
I was privileged to meet Rabbi Avishai Yehezkel - oh, how difficult and strange it is to write this - when we entered as young men to study at the 'Yakiri Yerushalayim' yeshiva.
In a very short time, his name was already known in the gates. The entire yeshiva recognized the diligent and sharp young man with the sweet smile.
Over the years, we also established a friendship in one of the orders, and were even roommates, and so I was privileged to get to know more of a man of high stature, who knows how to incorporate into his personality what is required of a son of Torah, a servant of God.
Avishai was a learned young man who never gave up on a clear and lucid understanding of the issue. He would not be satisfied with half-baked explanations or unfounded excuses, but would delve deeper and strive to understand exactly the simplicity of things, the intent of the Gemara and the commentators.
And yet, his mind was always involved with people, he always had a bright face and a smile, he knew how to say the right thing to make them happy, to lift their spirits. He knew how to see if someone needed help, if he needed to lend a hand. But in one moment he would sink into the depths of the issue with all seriousness.
Later, each of us went on to other meetings, but he made sure to continue to stay in touch.
From time to time, he would call and happily tell about another initiative to increase Torah, to strengthen Torah: sometimes it was a yeshiva between times, sometimes dozens of tractate endings, sometimes some group on a 'Friday night'.
He was always consulting to see if there was another idea, something else to do for the Torah people. That was what was foremost in his mind, to elevate and cherish the Torah people, and at the same time to bring together every Jew wherever he was.
I feel sorry for you, my brother Avishai, I am very pleased.