By Chana Canterman – Shlucha in Talbiya-Mamilla, Jerusalem

A dollar bill.

These days, it hardly seems to mean very much; just a small piece of green paper, of ever diminishing value.

In these days following Lag Baomer Shavuos, the timing seems right to finally share this personal story and honor the legend of Ahavas Yisroel and Ahavas Hatorah, Bubby Riva Junik, and יבדלח״ט, her family.

This is the story of a single dollar from the Lubavitcher Rebbe that to most of us has tremendous worth, but the dollar that Bubby Junik received from the Rebbe, continued to transcend even that. It became magical.

Let’s step back a moment.

In February 2025, while the hostage families were struggling through excruciatingly difficult times, our Chabad Talbiya-Mamilla Women’s Circle was holding weekly Challah bakes with hostage mothers.

A small group of these women made a request that we organize a respite trip to the Rebbe’s Ohel and the Chabad Women’s ‘Shluchos Convention’ in New York. We responded instinctively with a yes.
My dedicated junior shlucha and daughter Mussia, came on board immediately. Mission triumphed over exhaustion. Plans went full steam ahead.

Our New York team, led by Shlucha Chani Baram, Sara Veron and my dear sister Goldie Barnett, organized a seamless schedule to ensure that the mothers would be showered endlessly with uplifting moments and exquisite daily gifts of every kind.

The goal was to give them a week of tefillah, chizzuk, and respite from their reality. Interwoven into the carefully planned itinerary were times for prayer, spirit, and relaxation. The mothers became immersed in a week of powerful experiences. There were visits to the Ohel, to 770 and to the Rebbe’s room and library. There were high-quality art workshops, food demos, participation in a joyous Chassidic wedding, Broadway shows and spa time.

***

Alongside the emotional and spiritual purpose of the trip, several of the mothers hoped for an additional mission: to secure a meeting with Morgan Ortagus, former U.S. State Department spokesperson and an advisor to Steve Witkoff. They understood that reaching Steve himself was unlikely, but even a brief meeting with Morgan, someone connected to hostage advocacy and a mother herself, would be comforting and meaningful for them.

From the outset of the trip, calls were placed, messages sent, and contacts explored to try to reach Morgan, but nothing materialized.

Then, a critical connection was made on the third day of our week-long trip.

Chabad of Columbia University, headed by Rabbi Yehuda and Rebbetzin Drizin, held a heartwarming exchange between the mothers and the students. The students shared their challenges surrounding antisemitism on campus, while the mothers shared their heart-wrenching stories.

By Divine Providence, Rabbi Yehuda Drizin had connections to Rich Goldberg, senior advisor at the Foundation for Defense of Democracies and former member of the White House National Security Council. Rabbi Drizin reached out to him to pursue arranging a meeting. From that moment on, Rich became deeply involved, responsive, thoughtful, and genuinely invested in trying to make this meeting happen.

***
The week culminated with an unforgettable Shabbos in Crown Heights. Hosted at the Junik and Barnett homes, the mothers were enveloped in a blanket of warmth and care. The Friday night table radiated light and comfort, while a designated table for the missing hostages, set with their names for tefillah, anchored the experience with quiet intensity. Shabbos day continued with uplifting energy, singing, words of chizzuk, and delicious cuisine.

As Shabbos came to a close, a deeply emotional musical havdalah filled Shani Junik’s dining room with song and longing, flowing directly into the Ohel Nosson Melave Malka, which ignited a powerful sense of emunah. It was there that the mothers encountered a regal woman, just shy of ninety, who introduced herself simply as Riva. Only later did they realize that this was the famous Bubby Junik, Rabbi Berel Junik’s mother.

The music, delicious buffet, and speeches arranged reflected the immense effort invested in creating this event. When it was time to dance, however, no one expected the mothers to participate.
Yet, Bubby Junik understood something deeper: the healing power of simcha that breaks through barriers.

With infectious enthusiasm, she danced and danced, drawing the mothers into the circle one by one, with boundless energy. She showered them with genuine love, encouragement, and hope. No one else could have achieved this but the living legend, Bubby Junik. She had filled their weary bones with rich marrow, a surge of life-giving energy.

Later that night, Bubby Junik approached me. In her hand was a dollar that she had received from the Lubavitcher Rebbe many decades ago. She placed it into my hand and said simply, “I’m sharing the blessings I received from the Rebbe with you. Use it for bracha and hatzlacha in your shlichus with these special neshamos. Use it in whatever way will bring comfort to the hostage families.”

I was completely taken aback by her pure selflessness and thanked her profusely.

A Rebbe’s dollar carries a mission. It represents the power of a small act of goodness to create something far beyond itself.

Holding the dollar in my hand that night, I prayed that this dollar would become a conduit for igniting a spark, guiding the work that still lay ahead.

***
The very next morning, that spark began to light up.

Messages from Rich Goldberg started coming in, updates, possibilities, shifting logistics. He was actively working behind the scenes, advocating, coordinating, and trying to push the meeting with Morgan forward, despite many obstacles.

“Hi Chanie,” he wrote. “I flagged the email for Morgan. She’ll let me know whether this visit can take place.”

Hope flickered.

Sunday, day 6, we all attended the long-awaited gala banquet. By then, the group of mothers on the trip had grown to sixteen mothers. In the midst of the carefully planned program, one mother turned to me with yet another plea:

“I would like for us moms to get up on that stage and “say and pray” the names of our sons so that no one forgets where they are, where they need to be, and how they’ll get there. The cries of 5,000 Chabad women and friends will surely break through the heavens.”

It was not a simple request. The program had been set in stone for months and at first I was unsuccessful. But the mothers persisted, and I soon found myself advocating and pleading alongside them.

And then, it happened. Thousands of women stood together as the mothers held up their children’s posters. Tears flowed freely. A powerful tefillah filled the room. It became an unforgettable Ani Maamin chorus.

As the banquet came to a close, my “respite trip” shlichut would inevitably come to an end as well. Or so I thought… But I was acutely reminded that there was still no update from Rich.
***
Late Sunday night, most of the group booked their tickets back to Israel for early the next morning, as no meeting seemed imminent. Only two remained behind, unwilling to give up on the possibility of a meeting with Morgan.

At 4:00AM, exhaustion set in, and we crashed to sleep.

At 5:48AM, the flash of my phone jarred me awake. I saw the long-awaited response from Morgan.

“Hi, I can meet at around 12:00PM today.” That meant we had six hours from this moment.

Within minutes, Rich was guiding us, sending instructions, outlining transportation options (train? flight? car?), helping us navigate the impossible timeline.

One of the remaining two moms got cold feet and decided to drop out of this new mission to avoid disappointment. This meant that Galit Kalfon and her daughter-in-law, Rotem, were the only remaining hostage family members prepared to brave the trip in cold, icy weather, and maximize the “hishtadlus” for her son and all the remaining hostages.

“We are down to one mom and her daughter-in-law,” I messaged Rich, “Would you still be willing to expend all that energy for the meeting?”
“If this meeting brings even a measure of comfort to this mother, then it is absolutely worth it,” he responded. The ripple effect of Bubby Junik’s kindness was in motion.

Rabbis Berel Junik and Yossi Katz promptly ordered a car for us and took care of the cost without batting an eyelid. We immediately set out for DC.
The journey was anything but straightforward.

At multiple points, Rich cautioned that the chances of success were slim. Logistical barriers mounted. Timing seemed impossible. At one point, we received another call from Rich. He advised that it might be best to turn back.

For a long moment, silence pervaded the van.

For a split second, I flinched. Every person and every place has its unique mission and time. This, was the time for Bubby Junik’s dollar. The memory of her words came rushing back: “Use this dollar in whichever way would help the hostage families.”

Holding that small piece of paper, colossal in value, I felt a quiet determination. Somehow, it carried the weight of possibility and positivity. Now was our time.

I told Rich that Galit and Rotem did not need a long meeting. Even five minutes would be enough. They only wanted to thank Morgan and present her with something deeply meaningful, a dollar from the Rebbe.

After a few brief moments that felt like decades, Rich came back with incredible news. Morgan would, in fact, be able to meet them and was much looking forward to receiving a holy dollar from the Lubavitcher Rebbe, especially since she sent her daughter to the Chabad Pre-School in her home town.

With renewed energy, we pressed on. Hours later, after a tense and grueling drive, the White House came into view. Finally.

“Hi Rich, we’re here, but not sure where to go.”

No answer. I called again. No response. I messaged again. Still, no response. At last, I saw my phone light up. It was Rich. Something was very wrong.

“Hi, friends, someone has torpedoed my efforts, along with the meeting. It seems he wasn’t happy about the arrangement and prefers that any meetings go through a central channel. I’m so sorry.”
Galit and Rotem turned ashen. I, too, was in disbelief.

I turned to the women, and I said, “You know more than I do what we need to do right now.”

Out came the Sifrei Tehillim. We sat quietly in the van, driver included, reciting the Tehillim corresponding to the ages of the hostages, praying that somehow the impossible might be made possible. With intention and intensity, we read the Psukim word for word. As we reached the last line of Segev Kalfon’s Perek, (28) “Hoshiah Et Amecha.”, my phone almost exploded. Rich again.
“G-d is with you all today and always. I don’t know how or why, but broken things got fixed. Look out of your window. Morgan has your license number and is waiting for you; she’s wearing a red coat. Do you see her?”

Indeed, waiting regally in a red coat, was Deputy Envoy, Morgan Ortagus, and with her came a double fudge surprise. Standing there was Steve Witkoff, together with his chief of staff, Juan Pablo Varela. What went on in that van before Galit, Rotem, and I tumbled out, was a combined cacophony of chaos, crying, and laughter.

After hearing about the emotional and physical rollercoaster that had taken place that day, Steve immediately ordered three hotel rooms (for three overtired travelers) at the Waldorf Astoria, welcomed us into a waiting car, and took us to dinner.

Morgan became my ally as I sat in a place very foreign to me and we quietly conversed back and forth about dishes for the guests to order that would reflect the Kosher standards of Am Yisrael. A giant bronzino fish and vegetables appeared on the table.

It still wasn’t easy for me to explain to Steve Witkoff why I limited myself to bottled water drunk from a paper cup!

The mothers began to speak.
Morgan, Steve, and Juan listened intently as the mother and daughter in- law shared their stories, riddled with pain, courage, and unshakable hope. Steve and his staff shed real, salty tears for the agony and anguish of the suffering families. The empathy was palpable.

And then, the moment of the dollar arrived.

Suddenly, another hurdle emerged. There was only one dollar, yet sitting across from me was the very person tasked with helping bring the hostages home. I turned to Morgan.
“Morgan,” I asked quietly.

“May I present you now with your precious Rebbe Dollar?”

Her response was immediate.

“Certainly not! Steve is here. He is the one making the main decisions right now. He needs the blessings more than I.”

It was a striking moment of unique selflessness, with another bolt of the same giving spirit that had begun with Bubby Junik.

With trembling hands, I presented the priceless dollar to Steve Witkoff (So focused on this prime moment, I missed photographing Steve with Bubby’s dollar, and hope to receive one from the
staff in the near future). The Junik family sent a message in Bubby Junik’s name and requested it be read aloud.

I began:

“There are presents of gratitude that could be bought and crafted by an artist. I wish to present to you today a nuclear power of blessings that cannot be bought for any money in the world nor crafted by any artist. This is a holy dollar that was hand-given by the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneersohn. It has energy and blessings. Sometimes they remain dormant until the need arises. Only then do those blessings of success develop and blossom into reality in the most miraculous ways.

This dollar was received by our dear mother, Riva, who was three years old during the famous Leningrad blockade, when the entire city was held hostage for almost three years. She has chosen to gift this dollar to you for the sole purpose of hastening the release of those hostages still held in captivity.

With divine providence, you are the “shliach”, the emissary chosen by President Trump to help release all hostages now. Please take this dollar with you on all important life-saving missions. The Rebbe will be there with you, holding your hand to success and victory! “!!!עם ישראל חי

There was an absolute stillness that followed. Steve was very visibly moved by this unexpected gift of chizzuk. He expressed profuse gratitude and asked about the history of the “Rebbe’s Dollars.”

Steve began reminiscing about his youth and involvement in Jewish programs in his childhood, and even sang one of his favorite Jewish songs from his youth.

Yet I was still struggling, with the need to present the Rebbe dollar I’d committed to Morgan. Spontaneously, I invited her to be guest of honor at a Chabad Talbiya-Mamilla Challah bake event the next time she would be in Israel with worry-free time on her hands.

“There, a Rebbe Dollar will finally be gifted to you, too.”

Morgan was more than pleased at this commitment.

I dropped Galit and Rotem off at the Waldorf Astoria and decided to make my way back to waiting family members in New York.

Bubby Junik’s small dollar had infinitely surpassed its mission. Simple in appearance, yet full of merit, it opened doors that only this Rebbe dollar was powerful enough to unlock. It carried many mothers to a moment of hope, emunah, and connection that felt nothing short of miraculous. It may well have also accelerated the release of the last ‘ Shvuyim’.

***
Eight months later, when finally all the hostages were returned home, a circle closed. With Hashem’s help, many of the hostage mothers could now be called mothers in healing. And those mothers who were tragically grieving would be able to have some sense of closure.

In early February 2026, a group of healing mothers joined me once again on a trip to New York to say thank you prayers at the Rebbe’s Ohel and to experience a week of respite and joy. On the Motzei Shabbos program, a celebratory Maleve Malka hosted by the Ohel Nosson congregation was yet again on the schedule, and the guest of honor this time was to be Bubby Junik.

Alas, Hashem decided otherwise. Ten days before the trip, Bubby Junik suffered a heart attack, and on the very Motzei Shabbos of the Melave Malka, I slipped away to attend the Levaya of this Mitzva fairy whose lofty soul had departed from us. Her passing came at a poignant and painful time.

Despite not physically being with us at the Melave Malka, Bubby Junik’s presence filled the hall. In her merit, families crushed by unimaginable pain were lifted into moments of connection, comfort, and hope, and through the selfless sharing of her Rebbe’s Dollar and blessings, these mothers found a closeness to HaShem that no distance, no darkness, and no loss could ever diminish. As the light of Rashbi and Rabbi Akiva shines, we say “Thank you, Bubby Junik. Thank you, Rebbe. Thank you, Hashem.” May we merit the imminent Geula and reunion with all of Am Yisrael’s priceless legends.

****

Chabad of Talbiya-Mamilla thanks the following people for their selfless kindness that they showed to the mothers on their Kinus-respite trip to New York.
Chanie Baram
Sara Veron
Rabbi Berel and Shani Junik
Rabbi Mendy and Goldie Barnett
Mussie Mangel
Mrs Shaindy Jacobson
Girls from Frisch High School
Top Fashion
Chanie Apfelbaum
Michoel Muchnik @
Muchnik Art
Rabbi Yossi Katz
Leonid from World Spa
Ohel Nosson Community
Mrs. Devorah Halberstam
JLI Institute
Esti Pruss
Rivky Lang
Bass and Bourbon
Israel Chessed Center
Perl Family
Mrs Chani Garelik
Bronia Shaffer
Shlucha Reizel Wolf
Blumie Gurevitz