Continuing the conversation

A certain mekurav related the followins story:

“When our family was living in Flint, Michigan we started to gradually become closer to Yiddishkeit. One by one, new mitzvos became a part of our lifestyle.

“At that time some of the shluchim in the region spoke to me about visiting the Rebbe (= as part of the machaneh Yisroel development fund). I was, as yet, completely unfamiliar with Lubavitch or the Lubavitcher Rebbe, and I thought that Rebbe was another term for Rabbi, and that just like every Synagogue had its’ Rabbi (some who I was getting to know), there was a Rabbi for the Chabad Lubavitch movement who is called Rebbe.

“Primarily because of my fondness for the shliach who was encouraging me to do so, and in an effort to please him, I acquiesced.

“The first time I was in 770, I was near the front, and when the Rebbe passed by me he looked at me. Suddenly, I realized with absolute clarity why he’s referred to as the Rebbe. This is not another Rabbi; - this is the Rebbe!

“When my turn came to pass by the Rebbe the first time, the Rebbe spoke with me for a few moments. Then, to my utter surprise, he stopped. It was in the middle of a topic, – in the middle of a sentence, and he just stopped! It was sudden and abrupt, and – in my mind – there was no rhyme or reason for him to stop there. But my turn was over, and I had to move on.

“Some 6 months later, I had the next opportunity to visit the Rebbe, and my turn came to approach, my amazement was much greater. Despite the time that had passed, and the thousands of people that he had met in the interim, he began his conversation at exactly the point at which he had left off all those months before!”

REBBE, HELP!

A chossid belonging to a different chassidic group went to Los Angeles and met a childhood friend who had become a Lubavitcher. He asked him: Why did you become a Lubavitcher? The man said, I’ll tell you what happened and you tell me what kind of Chassid I ought to be.

This is what the man said:

Shortly after I moved to California, my wife did not feel well. Tests were done and they discovered she has cancer. The doctors said she had a few months left to live. I was shaken up and I began to say T’hillim in tears. In the middle of praying, I cried out: Rebbe, help!

Naturally, I was referring to my own Rebbe, but a short while later I received a phone call from New York. The man on the line said he was R’ Chadakov and he said: The Rebbe said you should remove your wife from the hospital and take her to a certain doctor.

I was so shaken up that I did not pay sufficient attention to what he said. After I recovered from the initial shock, I began to wonder who this R’ Chadakov was and what connection he had to me.

When I met R’ Shmuel Dovid Raichik, I asked him whether he knew a R’ Chadakov. He told me this was the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s secretary. I asked R’ Shmuel Dovid for R’ Chadakov’s phone number. When I reached him, I asked: What is this about? I didn’t ask the Rebbe anything.

He said: I don’t know anything about it. I just did what the Rebbe told me to do. R’ Chadakov warned me that if I wanted it to work out well, I should do as the Rebbe said.

Considering this is a Baal-Shemsker story, I went to the hospital and took my wife out against the doctors’ orders. Then I called the doctor whom the Rebbe had recommended and asked for an appointment. The secretary told me that I should come back in a year.

As I didn’t have a year to wait, I simply went to the doctor’s office and knocked on the door and said that I needed an appointment. After the doctor tried sending me back to the secretary, I said: I want to tell you something incredible. I told him what happened. After hearing this he said: If that’s the situation, bring her in tomorrow. I brought my wife and he treated her and she was cured.

Concluded the Chassid: Years have gone by and my wife and I and my children are Boruch Hashem all well. Now tell me, whose Chassid should I be?

From Beis Moshiach Magazine

Merkos Shlichus

A couple from Kelowna, who are fine and well-to-do yidden.  The first Shabbos that they came to the local Chabad house Friday night for davening and seudas Shabbos, for some reason, the wife was asked to share an inspiring story and this was it:

4 years ago, 2 bochurim came to Kelowna on Merkos Shlichus and (presumably because this couple is wealthy and influential) the bochurim stayed by them for the 2 weeks that they were there. So, of course she told how they made Shabbos at their home, and bought new dishes and about how shetoiveled them in the lake (the dishes, that is, not the bochurim) etc. They had a great experience, they made kiddush, had a seudas shabbos with guests . . all of it was amazing. She even told about how they would come home at night and tell over their success stories from their Merkos Shlichus, and how she and her husband would love hearing them!

But, what was the most amazing thing that she remembered, and what really made the strongest impression on her (she continued), was when she woke up Shabbos morning . . and she heard loud noises from outside screaming. She listened closer, and hears that 2 people are in a deep heated argument (or discussion). The noise is coming from very close to her house, and as she pays closer attention, she realizes that the source of the sounds is on her own back porch.  It is none other than her guests, the 2 bochurim!

She doesn't really understand but it seems that the boys are discussing the portion of the week, and they’re all into it like it’s such a big deal! She couldn't believe it! She was so impressed that this is what was important to them, and so early in the morning, to boot. She was so impressed at their enthusiasm for the torah portion. (They were actually probably learning chassidus before davenen but) more than anything else this is what really stuck out in her memory, and that she wanted to share).

This was the couple’s first positive experience with Chabad, and it had such an impact on them that it ultimately led to the fact that BH they partnered with the shluchim in a significant way, and they are very close with them now. Before this they would never had thought that they could join Chabad.

He is home and He has what to give

Berel was a chossid of the Chozeh of Lublin. He was the local batlan - he would spend his entire day in shul davening and learning. He was able to survive because once in a while, his rich brother, Shmuel, would give him some money to cover his basic expenses. As time went on, his 3 daughters reached marriageable age and his wife started pleading with him that he should ask Shmuel for some money to be able to marry them off. After refusing for a long time, he eventually gave in.

Leaving his poor neighborhood, on the way to his brother’s house, which was located on the other side of town, where the affluent people lived, Berel had plenty of time to think. Different doubts started to rise in his mind: “Maybe Shmuel’s not home, and if he is home, maybe he doesn’t have the money to give me, and even if he does, maybe he’s not going to want to give me…” After all, Shmuel was not tremendously supportive of Berel's life choices.

With these thoughts, he approached Shmuel's house. Walking up the steps to the house, he was thinking “But there is Someone Who is always home, Who has what to give, and Who wants to give, why am I coming here?”

Berel turned around and went straight home. Coming home, to his surprise, he found the house empty. A few hours later, his wife came home with a large sum of money, and told him the following story:

“Right after you left on your way to Shmuel’s house, a fancy carriage pulled up in front of our house and a few noble looking people started to knock on our door. When I opened it, they told me that the Poritz had gone mad, and being that the regular doctors weren’t able to help, they wanted me to come and to heal him. I tried to tell them that I am not a miracle worker, all I do is upshprech ayin horas, but they didn’t listen

“Having no choice, I went along. When I came to the Poritz, I did what I know how to do, and to my great surprise, he regained his senses. Thanking me for my work, he rewarded me with this large amount of money. Now we can marry off our daughters and support ourselves for a long time”

Berel decided to travel to his Rebbe and tell him the whole story. As soon as he walked in to have his private audience, the Chozeh told him “He’s home, He has and He wants to give.”

Coming to chassidus on time

The following anecdote was once related by R’ Mendel Futerfas:

Once, on Simchas Torah, the celebrated chosid R’ Itche der masmid asked two elder Chassidim to join him in the formation of a beis din. The two were both old and respected – one was a chosid by the name of R’ Meir Markowitz who was a chosid of the Tzemach Tzedek and was at that time over 1oo years old, and the other, a chosid from the times of the Rebbe Maharash, was in his 80’s – but R’ Itche der masmid was held in the highest esteem by all, and they complied.

As soon as the beis din was formed, R’ Itche announced that the beis din is hereby ruling that – for the upcoming year - every member of anash must attend a shiur chassidus from 6:00 a.m. until 7:00, followed by shacharis (R’ Itche would give a shiur in Torah Ohr and Likkutei Torah during that hour throughout tha year).

He added, in the name of the beis din, that anyone who would not obey would not be motzie shnosoi(i.e., would not make it through the year alive)!

There were Chassidim in the group who worked the night shift, and only got home early in the morning, and there were others who were struggling in their livelihood and had no time at all to spare. But no-one, and I mean no-one, missed that shiur throughout that year. In fact, if anyone would even consider sleeping in, his wife would forcibly drag him out of bed, knowing what the consequences would be to her if her husband would ch”v be on the receiving end of the beis din’s ruling!

Iskafia

Rabbi Mendel Aronow related the following story:
‘As a child in Russia, I had a friend, a very chassidisher boy, by the name of Leizer Mishulovin. One day, as I was returning to school after the afternoon break, I saw Leizer in a state of great excitement. ‘Mendel’, he called to me as soon as he saw me, ‘I just experienced a great miracle!’ And he proceeded to share with me the following:

In Russia, at that time, there were no refrigerators. They used an icebox, in which perishable foods could be kept fresh for a time. Not everyone was able to afford even those; - it was only the wealthier families that were able to have their own icebox. The Mishulovin family was one of these families.

On this particular day, young Leizer came home in the afternoon famished. He immediately went to the icebox, to see what he could find to sooth his hunger pangs. To his delight, he saw some fresh cutlett’en (chicken patties), with a mouth-watering aroma. Leizer took one in his hand, and prepared to make a brocho . . .

. . . when suddenly he recalled being taught that a chosid needs to subjugate his desires, and when he realizes that wants something very badly, then he shouldn’t do it. Leizer was in a quandary. On the one hand, the delicious-looking cutlets beckoned to him temptingly, but on the other hand his education and his desire to work on being a chosid drew him in the opposite direction.

Leizer fought a brief – but fierce – inner battle, and in the end his Chassidic upbringing prevailed, and he returned the cutlets to the icebox.

Just then his mother returned home. When she saw her son near the ice box, she became alarmed. “Leizer”, she called to him, “I hope you didn’t eat the cuttlett’en”

“Why not?” he asked his mother. So, she explained that their gentile neighbor, not being in possession of his own icebox, had asked her permission to store some food in hers, which she granted. The cutlets belonged to him, and they were, as you can understand, pure treif!!’

Check Your Tefillin

There was a couple that had been childless for seventeen years. The woman had already been treated by the best doctors and professors in Israel. She had tried all the remedies, natural and supernatural. She spared no effort, but nothing helped. The couple visited various rabbis and sages, asking for a blessing for children. They had even discussed starting new lives, separately. In fact they had been at the point of requesting a divorce.

A friend advised them to write a letter to the Rebbe before they took this last, drastic step. They rushed a letter to the Rebbe, pouring out their bitterness and begging him for a blessing for children. With nervous anticipation they awaited the response. Ten days later, the hoped-for letter arrived from New York. With trembling hands and pounding hearts they opened it and pored over every word. A glimmer of light shone in their eyes. "The Rebbe instructs me to check my tefilin," the man said to his wife.

The man took his tefilin, and he and his wife went straight to a scribe who lived nearby. They followed the scribe's work with great anxiety. Nervous silence filled the workroom. Not two minutes passed before the scribe jumped from his seat as if bitten by a snake. He held his head in his hands and shouted, "Look what I see!"

The couple were amazed at what they saw. "Look at that! An entire word is missing! An entire word. And look at which word--rechem." He repeated the word slowly, emphasizing each letter.

The man turned pale. In the very first verse of the section beginning with the words "Sanctify for me the firstborn--peter rechem--of your animals." The word "rechem," which means "womb" was missing. Trepidation was soon replaced with joy. It appeared that this was the solution to the mystery of their years of childlessness.

He told the scribe to prepare new tefilin parchment for him on the spot. Then he sent a thank you letter to the Rebbe, describing what had happened. A second letter quickly came from the Rebbe, containing a blessing for children. The Rebbe wrote that he was now sure that the couple would be able to fulfill the words of the verse fully.

A short time later, the woman joyously informed her husband that she was pregnant.

A few months ago, a baby boy was born to the happy couple.

News of this wonder quickly spread through Jerusalem and made a deep impression in many circles. People began bringing in their tefilin for inspection, and scribes were willing to check tefilin free of charge. In fact, those who were involved in the campaignhad said that many tefilin were found to be missing letters, or words, or to have extra letters. In one case, they even found a pair of tefilin that had photocopies inside. They have now been replaced with tefilin written by hand on parchment as required by Jewish law.