By knowing clearly what her tafkid in life was and then fulfilling it-with profound happiness, humility and selflessness. Mrs. Rivka Meisels shared her husband's yblc"t mission of making Cleveland into an Ihr Hatorah. Rabbi Meisels was charged by his Rabbeim, the late Telzer Roshei Yeshiva Rabbi Elya Meyer Bloch Zt"l and Rabbi Muttel Katz Zt"l "to teach Jewish children in the Hebrew Academy of Cleveland and this he has been doing for over four decades and continues to do as teacher, principal and pioneering author of workbooks and study aids. Mrs. Meisels backed her husband on all of his projects. She was his sounding board, his critic, and his cheering squad-and she was also the one who reheated his suppers night after night, took every phone call and delivered every message patiently and accurately, and never made personal demands on his time. What she could do herself, she never asked her husband to help her with.

The Meisels mission was not limited to their professional duties as mechanchim. Together and individually, the Meisels were heavily involved in building and maintaining the Mikveh, in running a community day camp, in introducing Cholov Yisrael to Cleveland and in working for the Chevra Kadisha. But more than their serious commitment to all of these worthy endeavors, their entire life was pervaded by a consciousness that they represented Torah Judaism in Cleveland. Their home was well kept, people need to realize that Torah Jews are menschlich. The Meisels would make a point of patronizing non-religious tradesmen in order to have the opportunity of engaging them in conversation and showing them that a frum Jew can have "a good life." The obligation to spread Torah like Avrohom Avinu by lavishing attention and favors on non-religious neighbors and acquaintances and thereby impress them with the beauty of Yiddishkiet was a prime feature of their life. The children fondly remember the hustle and bustle of their parents packing up all eight of them for the long drive from Cleveland to New York to spend Pesach with Zaidy and Bubby, but the car did not pull out of driveway until Mrs. Meisels had wished all of the neighbors "Gut Yom Tov."

Mrs. Meisels took much pride in her children's accomplishments and a favorite family anecdote captures this sense: At a Simcha in Cleveland during the cold winter, Mrs. Meisels was standing among a group of fashionable ladies attired in fur coats. A good friend of the family approached and kidded her good naturedly, Nu, Rivkah, where's your mink? Without missing a beat, Mrs. Meisels answered, "I have one in Yerushalayim, one in Chicago, one in Cleveland, one in Silver Spring and several in Lakewood" ( referring to her children learning in kollelim in those cities).

While the children were growing up, they were unquestionably the focus of her life. She followed their educational progress assiduously and admonished them often: Whatever you do, you have to do well.

Much of Mrs. Meisels's hatzlocha in raising such a successful and a close-knit family can be attributed to her own sterling example of being a happily devoted full time mother and also an active, responsible, non glory-seeking participant in any and every worthy cause. But in addition to the healthy example she set by being so contented with her lot in life, Mrs. Meisels just naturally employed wonderful child-rearing methods: Mrs. Meisels never lectured her children-if she got upset at anybody or about something, she said her piece once, without mentioning it again. A child who spoke in an unacceptable way would be told: "That's not the way we talk," and that was the end of it. A natural part of the children's upbringing was to keep the needs of others in mind. The children knew that before they would take the last piece of cake, the last pickle in the jar or even the last drop of soda from the bottle, their mother admonish them, "Think of the next person." Included in Mrs. Meisels' unconditional love for her children was her love for her children's friends. A friend of a Meisels child became a part of the family and the Meisels home became their home. Mrs. Meisels loved having her children's friends visit and the years of friendship often culminated in her making them a Sheva Berachos.

Born in the era pre-dating the popularization of Shemiras Ha Lashon, one could learn a Torah Shleima about Shemiras HaLashon from observing Mrs. Meisels. First of all, her cardinal rule: "If you have nothing good to say, don't say it!" Between her and her husband's connections, they were privy to many school and communal matters, but she was so careful not to discuss "politics" and did not speak about people-except to help with shidduchim. She was tzenua bedibbur, saying less rather than more and keeping her feelings to herself. Co-teachers described how Mrs. Meisels, during her recess break, would greet everyone with a friendly "good morning" and then, rather than spend valuable time sharing the latest gossip, would go off to the side and say Tehillim. Yet when speaking would be productive and meaningful, she was unstinting, having plenty of words of advice and encouragement for the many who sought her counsel.

Mrs. Meisels davened two tefillos a day. She was not ma' arich b'tefillah in the early years, but even when her childen were infants and toddlers, she managed to daven Shacharis and Mincha faithfully. Yomim Noraim were always spent at Telshe Yeshiva and then, surrounded by her daughters, she would pour her heart out to HaKadosh Baruch Hu, begging and crying for Rachamim. As the children grew up, more and more time was spent davening, but never at the expense of her other obligations. Pirkei Tehillim were her constant companions and the pages of her Sefer were worn thin. Whenever she could, she would spend hours on her living room couch reciting Tehillim for those in need.

Along with her guarded tongue, incessant tefillos and Tehillim came a vast storehouse of patience, for, as she was wont to say: "Patience is a virtue." Especially for her special education students in the Resource Room, where she taught after her children were grown, Mrs. Meisels had an infinite supply of patience and only due to her persistence and encouragement did her charges learn to read Siddur or to recite the Mah Nishtana. A mother reported to one of the Meisels children that her son was nine years old when he said the Mah Nishtana for the first time at the Seder thanks to Mrs. Meisels' patience and encouragement. Similarly, for the various people who needed a sympathetic ear and for whom others didn't always have time or patience, Mrs. Meisels was the address. Many students, studying in high-school, seminary or local colleges in the Cleveland area, were invited to a Shabbos meal at the Meisels home.

In her last two years, the lofty middos and the staggering kochos hanefesh that had been veiled, as it were, under the guise of routine wifely and motherly duties shone forth, and as self-effacing as she was, she could not conceal the flame that burned within her soul. As she excelled all the years in fulfilling the tafkid of wife and mother, so too, she fulfilled her tafkid as a patient whom Hashem designated for a particular nisayon by being the best patient she could, by keeping her spirits up, not feeling sorry for herself, speaking in a strong, firm voice, smiling her beautiful smile and dispensing advice and encouragement to her children and grandchildren from her sickbed. Drawing from the reservoirs of quiet strength built over the first seventy years of her life, her home remained a happy, "normal" place even in times that might very well have been unhappy and abnormal. In the good years, her children never remember her complaining of aches and pains, and in her illness, too, a complaint was rarely heard. When, in the cycle of ups and downs during treatments, she would feel some "improvement", she would joyfully embrace it and never dwell on the loss of mobility that she had to endure. In the good years, her children hardly remember her shopping for herself or asking them to do chores and errands, and in her illness she continued to be as independent as possible and to put everyone else's needs ahead of her own, even to the point of telling the orderlies who asked her if she would prefer to be transported in a bed or sitting up in a wheel chair: "Whatever is best for you." Just as, in the good years, she would be so grateful for any gift or assistance and tell all her children who had given her the gift or the favor, so, too, was she particular to thank and compliment every single visitor, helper or nurse even when she was in such pain that she could hardly speak. Davening and Tehillim occupied much of her time and her well-worn Tehillim became ragged.

Mrs. Meisels was always a person who, having made a decision based on her best judgment, unclouded by prejudice or bad middos, stuck with her decision and didn't vacillate or agonize. Here, too, where there were so many decisions to make, those that she was able to make were made with intelligence and optimism and without remorse later on. She radiated quiet calm and control, keeping her priorities intact even in the worst of times, for, as she said: I am bemenucha because all of my children are what I wanted them to be.

Anybody who came into contact with her or the family marveled at the consideration and respect that prevailed among the family members as they took turns caring for their beloved mother when she was in the hospital. More than once hospital personnel were heard expressing amazement-and jealousy-at the steady stream of children, grandchildren and children-in-law who left behind large families and obligations to be at their mother's bedside. The hospital guard who escorted the children to and from the room after visiting hours, remarked, "When I am old and sick, I wish that my family would show me the care and respect that you show for your mother."

Rivkah Meisels' final ascent upon the Har HaShem was described by her second son, Rabbi Menechem Mendel: Her condition had become critical and the family had assembled in the hospital room. Rabbi Yosef Meisels, "Abba," told the family members that the sefarim say that one should learn and say Tehillim when the Yetzias HaNeshama is imminent, and since "learning" is stated before "Tehillim," they should learn. Thus, while the beloved wife and mother was slowly leaving this world for a higher one, they commenced to engage themselves fully in that which would be the greatest zechus for her. If one pictures the scene, one is awestruck by the Gevuras HaNefesh which was displayed at that heart-wrenching time. Mrs. Meisels' own Gevuras HaNefesh filled the room and distilled itself in the Gevurah of her loved ones. Ashrecha Yisrael Mi Kamocha.

When Mrs. Meisels, a seventh generation Yerushalmi, was brought to America as in infant, her Porush relatives saw the family off at the port with tears streaming down their faces. They were sure that the Brenners would assimilate in America and be lost to their glorious tradition. When the family patriarch came to visit in Williamsburg eighteen years later to see what was left of his poor children and grandchildren, he was dumbfounded at what he saw: "A house just like in Shaarei Chesed and Rivkaleh, the youngest, wears long sleeves, learns Chumash with Ramban and wants to marry a Ben-Torah!" In ways big and small, Rivkaleh clung to the values and customs of her parents and surely the fruits of her faithful labors are a source of pride to her forebearers in Gan Eden.

Yehi Zichra Baruch.