[vc_row][vc_column][vc_tta_accordion active_section=”-1″ collapsible_all=”true”][vc_tta_section title=”THE REBBETZIN’S SHAWL” tab_id=”1624966232619-d34fa254-bfdc”][vc_column_text]Mrs. Orit Greenberg, Beit Shemesh, Israel
Since I was a small child, I always knew what I wanted to be when I grew up: a mother to many children. I waited impatiently for four long years after my wedding until our oldest daughter, Chaya Mushka, was born.
Shortly after she was born, the Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita appeared to me in a dream. He smiled at me and thanked me warmly for naming my daughter after his wife, the Rebbetzin. He also gave me some items that belonged to the Rebbetzin. I noticed one that was beige-pink in color.
After Chaya Mushka we had a few more children, but then we went through a period in which I was unable to conceive. This really bothered me. I yearned for more children.
Four years ago, at a women’s event in honor of 22 Shvat, the Rebbetzin’s yahrtzeit, there was an auction. The prize was a shawl that was made out of a garment belonging to the Rebbetzin. The money would go towards Hachnasas Kallah, a fund to help needy couples with their wedding expenses.
When I saw the shawl I immediately recognized it as the one the King Moshiach Shlita had given me in the dream. I felt it was my opportunity and decided I had to get that shawl.
I joined the bidding, ignoring my apprehensions about how we would be able to afford it. The price went up and up until finally, at 9000 shekels, the shawl was mine.
Daniela Golan, the head of the Ohr Chaya organization that hosted the event, blessed me that I should have a son, a tzadik. I called my husband and told him that I had bought the Rebbetzin’s shawl. I told him how much it cost, and we committed to making ten monthly payments for it.
We began paying if off and saw blessings right away. First, my in-laws decided to give us 11,000 shekels without even knowing the story. Then I was accepted into a computer course, which soon landed me a job. Third, my husband also had special blessing in his earnings that year. But the blessing I wanted the most, for additional children, still eluded us.
We thought maybe we had to finish paying all the installments on the shawl I had bought. When Shvat rolled around once again and the last payment was made, I felt that we had earned the merit. I put the shawl on my shoulders and prayed with tears and great concentration that I have a son. Then I opened the Igros Kodesh, a volume of Moshiach’s published letters, and opened the page at random. The letter printed on that page was beautiful and had special relevance to my situation.
First, Moshiach wrote about yeshivas Tomchei Tmimim, to make sure that there were good students so they wouldn’t have to leave the yeshiva. Children need to receive a good education so they would be Tmimim, sincere ones, a term that applies to those who attend the Tomchei Tmimim yeshivah. Second, there was a blessing that referred a passage in the Talmudic tractate of Erchin, which talks about the dispute between the sages about a leap year, whether the purpose of it is to fill the lack of that year or of the previous years. The letter ended with the words: this is the inyan of the month of ibur (the significance being that ibur means both leap year and pregnancy).
It was on the 22nd of Shvat that I got the good news—with G-d’s help, I was expecting a child. The pregnancy was neither easy nor simple, but we knew it was blessed. Our son Dovber was born on 18 Cheshvan, 5768.[/vc_column_text][/vc_tta_section][vc_tta_section title=”Never-Ending Hope” tab_id=”1624966232628-da408ac8-677e”][vc_column_text]Aharon Bleich
I was born in Paris, and grew up in a home that was completely free of Torah observance. A visit with one of my relatives, Rabbi Eliyahu Turgeman (who today lives in Netanya), changed my life completely. I learned Tanya and Chassidus with him, and I felt that I had found the answers to all my questions. He told me about the Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita and his miraculous abilities, and at the first opportunity, I traveled to New York to meet the King Moshiach Shlita. In 5748 (1988), I met my wife, Chaya Ora, and we were married soon afterwards.
We established our residence in Safed, Israel, and I joined a kollel, a Torah study program for married men. In Tishrei 5749 and 5750 (1989-90), we were in New York and went by Moshiach to receive the customary blessing and dollar for charity. We asked Moshiach for a blessing, and merited to receive the standard blessing he gives to all those who come to him. At that point we still were not stressed over the fact that we hadn’t become parents yet. We were certain that everything would work out fine with the passage of time.
However, as the months and years passed, we realized that we had not merited to have things go smoothly in this matter. We spent much time going around to all the doctors and we went through numerous treatments. We didn’t give up, although we were often disappointed. Every failed treatment brought with it a deep sense of frustration.
One year during the 1990s, we took advantage of a visit with Moshiach to ask him for his blessing that we should have children. It wasn’t easy for my wife to get up her nerve to ask, but she did, and Moshiach blessed her.
Moshiach’s words were a source of tremendous encouragement and strength for us during the years that followed. Later, we sent a letter to Moshiach asking for a blessing on a variety of issues, including a blessing for children, and Moshiach replied, “Bracha v’hatzlacha. Blessings and success. I’ll mention it at the Tzion [the gravesite of his father-in-law].” These clear blessings were what gave us hope.
What also helped us a great deal were the Chassidic gatherings in our neighborhood in Kiryat Chabad, Safed. Anyone who is familiar with our marvelous community of chassidim knows how much love flows through their veins. At every gathering, people would give us their heartfelt blessings that we should merit to have children. I felt that my friends and neighbors in the Chabad community were partners in my efforts, and they helped me to remain buoyant in my faith.
In all the years that passed, we were privileged to receive much spiritual strength and clear blessings from Moshiach via Igros Kodesh, Moshiach’s published letters. Every time we opened the book at random, we would come upon a page with the most marvelous blessings that were also relevant to our situation. These letters encouraged us and instilled us with hope.
It is interesting to note that in many of these letters, Moshiach expressed his support for conventional medicine, preferring it to naturalistic healing approaches.
The chassidic outlook on faith despite everything, the understanding that G-d runs the world regardless of the hiding and concealment, is what brought me to the teachings of Chassidus, strengthening me and getting me back on my feet time after time.
Before the year began, we knew that it was a special year – the Year of 770 in the Hebrew calendar, which is not only the address of Moshiach’s synagogue but also the numerical value of “Beis Moshiach,”—the House of Moshiach, as well as the word u’faratzta—You shall burst forth. This was a year that required no acronyms, as the number itself was sufficient to establish it for a blessing.
We were filled with hope that this would be the year when we would merit the long-awaited miracle, and when it came, our joy and happiness knew no bounds. This is the year of Redemption. We experienced our own personal redemption, when, after 22 years of marriage, my wife and I merited the birth of our first child, a daughter Rivka. And with G-d’s help, it will be a year of overall redemption for the Jewish People.[/vc_column_text][/vc_tta_section][vc_tta_section title=”Still Involved” tab_id=”1624970821086-62d3f70c-caf5″][vc_column_text]Robert Abrams is a distinguished public figure who served four terms as attorney general of the state of New York. During this period he developed a close relationship with the Lubavitcher Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita and consulted with him on both personal and communal matters. His respect for the Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita and his leadership, as he puts it, knows no bounds.
When he wanted to withdraw from public life, the King Moshiach Shlita encouraged him to continue and take on other public roles. He confesses that there was only one time that he felt inadequate to take up a challenge that Moshiach had advised him. That was when Moshiach suggested that he run for mayor of New York. “I felt that role was greater than I could handle,” he admits.
Robert Abrams’ wife, Diane, also developed a close relationship with Moshiach. The two first met Moshiach before their wedding, when a friend suggested that they get Moshiach’s blessing. The friend also arranged an appointment, and they were finally ushered in to see Moshiach – at 3 a.m.!
From then on he was a regular guest of Moshiach, for personal audiences as well as at public gatherings (Farbrengens) of Moshiach. Whenever he came to a Farbrengen, Moshiach would inquire if his wife had come as well. During their private talks Moshiach would ask her opinion about a broad range of topics.
Every year the couple would come to Moshiach during Sukkos, on Hoshana Rabbah, when Moshiach distributes Lekach, honey cake, along with his blessings for a sweet year. Most of the time they would bring along their daughter, Rachel, to receive Moshiach’s blessing. Once, when Rachel was three, Moshiach handed her a slice of honey cake and she said that she prefers chocolate. Moshiach responded with a broad smile…
On one occasion, when the couple had not brought their daughter Rachel along for Lekach, Moshiach turned to Mrs. Abrams and, after handing her a piece of honey cake, he gave her a second piece and said, “A blessing for a new addition to your family.”
Until then, Robert and Diane had not dared to tell anyone how much they longed for another child. Since the passing of Mr. Abrams’ father a short time before, their desire for another child had intensified, to carry on the grandfather’s name. The problem was that Mrs. Abrams was not young, and when the couple had broached the topic with their doctors, they had been strongly discouraged from pursuing the matter.
However, they did not give up hope. In their hearts they still held out hope that maybe a miracle would happen. Nevertheless, the couple had not shared their dream with anyone, and they were sure nobody else knew their secret…
A month later, Mrs. Abrams became pregnant. Despite all the warnings of the doctors, the pregnancy went smoothly and the child was born with no health issues. She was named Binyamina, after Mr. Abrams’ father, Benjamin. The family called her Becky.
On Hoshana Rabbah of the following year, the Abrams family once again came to receive Moshiach’s blessings for a new year. When Moshiach saw them, he turned to them saying, “I see that you have brought with you an addition to your family…”
Mr. Abrams was astonished at Moshiach’s memory. After a full year during which Moshiach had seen tens of thousands of people, he used almost the exact words with which he had blessed them a year earlier…
“Thank you, Moshiach,” said Mr. Abrams with great feeling.
Moshiach shook his head “no,” while pointing to the heavens, as if to say, It was G-d’s blessing.
“In any case, we call Binyamina Moshiach’s daughter,” the proud parents told Moshiach.
Several years after her encounter with Moshiach Mrs. Abrams experienced a curious event, which showed her that her special connection to Moshiach had not ended. She was on a flight to Israel to visit her daughter Rachel. Seated next to her on the plane was a young Chabad Chossid, and she related to him several stories of her family’s special connection to Moshiach. Naturally, she also included the story of Becky’s miraculous birth. When she finished she expressed her sorrow at the concealment of Moshiach to our physical eyes.
The Chossid explained to her that even now, Moshiach continues to lead the Chabad movement and gives blessings and advice to those who turn to him. However, Mrs. Abrams was skeptical.
The conversation ended and the young man busied himself with his own matters. On his headphones he began to listen to a recording of one of Moshiach’s talks. Suddenly he heard the voice of someone approaching Moshiach, “I am Attorney General Robert Abrams, and I am honored to be here tonight…”
The amazed young man offered his headset to Mrs. Abrams to listen to what she just heard, and she was overwhelmed. For her it was sufficient evidence that Moshiach continues to be involved in her life.[/vc_column_text][/vc_tta_section][vc_tta_section title=”Miracles Times Five” tab_id=”1624970862886-3c0cbcc3-316f”][vc_column_text]Dovid Segal
I was born in Petersburg, Russia to a Jewish but non-observant family. I knew nothing about Judaism except that my father once told me that our grandfather’s grandfather was a great and important rav among the Chabad Chassidim.
I met my wife at a Jewish Agency camp in Israel, and we married in a civil service in Petersburg. We used to spend our summer vacations in Israel as part of a group under the Jewish Agency. The group leader, a Lubavitcher Chassid, began acquainting us with the world of Judaism. When we went back to Petersburg, we decided to have a Jewish marriage.
Two years passed since our chuppa and we still didn’t have children. We felt we had to deepen our connection with Judaism.
One summer, when we visited Israel as we did each year, we met the Friedland family of Nachalat Har Chabad. Among other things, we told them about our desire for children, and they suggested we ask the Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita for a blessing. We agreed, and Avrohom Friedland opened a volume of the King Moshiach Shlita’s letters. On the page he opened, Moshiach had written a blessing for children and even asked that the child be called by a certain name. With a blessing like that we knew we would have children, despite the fact that the doctors said we wouldn’t.
We went back to Russia and continued our involvement with Chabad. In Petersburg, we met a gentile doctor. Right after the first treatment, we found out my wife was expecting. A few weeks later when my wife went for a check-up, she phoned me and said we were expecting twins. A few minutes later she called back to say it was triplets. I was thrilled. When the phone rang a third time, I didn’t know what to think – she told me it was quads!
She began to cry, because she told me that the doctor said quadruplets are risky. I calmed her and said that if G-d sent us four, everything would be fine. The doctor wanted to reduce the number of fetuses. I consulted with Rabbi Pevsner, who consulted with experts in Israel. There were differing opinions.
At some point we decided to open Moshiach’s letters and ask Moshiach about this complicated matter. We put the question in the volume of Moshiach’s letters, and the answer spoke about preserving even the physicality of a person and not to give in. We understood from this that Moshiach was opposed to reducing the number of babies, that we had to protect all of them, and that with G-d’s help everything would be fine.
We were still afraid to take the responsibility for this decision, but we decided to “go for the gold.” We wrote to Moshiach again and said we had decided not to reduce the number of babies, and asked for a blessing that everything would be fine.
The answer we opened to was in Volume 10, p. 120. ‘Regarding your writing about your wife’s condition: I double my blessings that G-d complete the days of her pregnancy properly and easily, and she should give birth to living, thriving children in the right time, properly and easily.’
After such a clear answer, I knew we would be all right. We told the doctor of our decision and he advised us to go to Israel, where we would get better care. Immediately, we left to Israel. I studied in the kollel, and my wife was homebound until the twentieth week. That’s when the problems began. For example, until that time we thought we were having quadruplets, and in Israel they saw it was quintuplets!
The doctors were pessimistic and said there was no way Esther would make it through this pregnancy. They begged us to reduce the number of babies, but we refused. Moshiach had given us his blessing!
The doctors set a date for a Cesarean operation in the 27th week, but again there were miracles and my wife held on until the 31st week, which amazed the doctors.
Moshiach’s blessings accompanied us throughout the entire pregnancy. At 2:00 a.m., 2 Elul 5761 (2001), the quintuplets were born. The doctors were unanimous that this was a medical miracle. One of the doctors even said, “The likelihood of the babies’ survival was nil.”
Moshiach’s blessings accompanied us the whole time. We saw miracles. Even somebody who doesn’t believe in miracles had to agree there were miracles here.[/vc_column_text][/vc_tta_section][vc_tta_section title=”A New Life” tab_id=”1624970909349-e0d0b666-696f”][vc_column_text]Yitzchak Meir’s life story begins in Sofia, the capital city of Bulgaria. Yitzchak was less than a year old when his parents made aliyah to Israel in 1949, shortly after the founding of the Jewish state.
Yitzchak spent his childhood in the towns of Rechovot and Yaffo. The Bulgarian Jews tried to stick together, and both those cities had large Bulgarian populations.
During the Six-Day War, Yitzchak served in a Golani brigade and fought the Syrian army on the northern front. After completing his tour of duty, he decided to seek his fortune outside of Israel. He settled in the wealthy African country of Nigeria, where he invested in the hotel business.
Then came the revolution, and all the tycoons fled the country, including those that Yitzchak was working for. Yitzchak had a friend in New York named Mordechai, who persuaded him to move to Brooklyn and go into business with him.
And so, Yitzchak found himself living in the heavily Chassidic neighborhood of Boro Park. For the next few years, Yitzchak lived alongside his neighbors but never felt part of their world.
After a few years of living a good life in the U.S., Yitzchak began to feel emptiness inside. He began to seriously consider moving back to Israel and starting his own family. However, earning a good living was important to him and he thought he’d never be able to achieve his goals in Israel.
One day, while walking down the street he met three yeshiva students. At the time he was not familiar with Chabad. They asked him if he was Jewish and if he’d like to put on tefillin. One of them was more direct: “I can see on your face that something is bothering you. Why not go to the Lubavitcher Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita? He can help you.”
The confident way the yeshiva students spoke about the Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita made an impression on Yitzchak. Not enough, however, to convince him to get up and go to the King Moshiach Shlita. He was very far from a Jewish lifestyle, and the thought of asking a rabbi for advice was weird to him.
A few days after meeting them, Yitzchak sat down and thought it over. He decided that if he would meet those yeshiva students again, it would be a sign from heaven to take their advice and meet with Moshiach. Indeed, two weeks later he met them again on the street.
At the time Moshiach would receive people for yechidut–private meetings in his office. The students helped Yitzchak make an appointment for a meeting with Moshiach, and guided him in writing up a list of questions and requests to present to Moshiach. “We will wait for you in the hallway,” they reassured him.
As soon as Yitzchak entered Moshiach’s room, he was unable to say a word. He felt a radiance coming from Moshiach that struck him into silence. Moshiach spoke Hebrew with an Ashkenazi accent, which Yitzchak struggled to understand. He was not quite sure what Moshiach said to him. But when he left the room, the students told him that undoubtedly Moshiach had blessed him and soon he would feel those blessings in his life.
Under the spell of his meeting with Moshiach, Yitzchak became a frequent visitor at Moshiach’s headquarters at 770 Eastern Parkway. Rarely did two days pass without him stopping by. He enjoyed participating in Moshiach’s Farbrengens (gathering) that lasted hours, even though he didn’t understand a word of Yiddish.
Almost without realizing it, Yitzchak began picking up more and more elements of Jewish observance. He began to pray and put on tefillin regularly, and keep Shabbos and kosher. His Chabad friends invited him to their homes for Shabbos and holidays and he developed strong, close ties with them.
At the age of 35, after many disappointing attempts to find his match, Yitzchak decided that it was time to ask Moshiach for a blessing to get married. One Sunday, when Moshiach distributes dollars for charity and blessings, he stood in line. But when his turn came, once again he was struck dumb and couldn’t utter a word.
Moshiach came to his aid, though. Anticipating his need, Moshiach blessed him to get married soon.
Three weeks later, Yitzchak was introduced to his future wife. Like him, she was Israeli and the daughter of Holocaust survivors. Four months later, they were married, and all his Chabad friends were there to rejoice with him on his wedding day.
Yitzchak and his wife hoped to start a family right away. But when a few years passed without children, they once again stood on the dollar line to ask for Moshiach’s blessing. This time Yitzchak was able to express his desire.
Moshiach gave Yitzchak a fatherly look and blessed him. He advised him to study carefully the laws of family purity, which regulate Jewish family life. Yitzchak’s wife arranged to immerse in the same mikvah that Moshiach used, shortly after he used it. Ten months later, Yitzchak and his wife became proud parents to a daughter, whom they named Rivka, after Yitzchak’s mother.[/vc_column_text][/vc_tta_section][vc_tta_section title=”The Positive Side of Chmelnitzki” tab_id=”1624970946181-e25c44b4-fc07″][vc_column_text]Chmelnitzki is a name that evokes horror among Jews who remember a bit of Eastern European Jewish history. During the infamous years of tach v’tat (1648-49), hordes of Cossacks led by Bogdan Chmelnitzki ravaged Eastern Europe, slaughtering thousands of Jews in their wake.
There is a town in Ukraine that still bears the name of this notorious murderer, and in recent years it has become a bastion of authentic Jewish life, thanks to the efforts of the local Chabad emissary, Rabbi Yehoshua Raskin. A sweet revenge.
It was not easy for Rabbi Raskin and his wife to take up a post in that town. “The thought that I would be known as the rabbi of Chmelnitzki was not exactly heartwarming,” Rabbi Raskin admits. “We hesitated a great deal before accepting this position.”
Rabbi Raskin and his wife first flew from Israel to visit the place before deciding on a permanent move. Their first impression was positive, but they still could not get around the thought of living in a place by that name. Imagine living in a town called Hitler, may his name be obliterated!
What finally tipped the balance was the response they received to a letter they placed in a volume of Igrot Kodesh, the Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita’s published letters. As is customary by many Chassidim, they direct questions to the King Moshiach Shlita by inserting a letter at random into one of the volumes of the Moshiach’s published letters and follow the advice written on that page.
On this occasion, the page they opened to contained a letter in which Moshiach quoted from Ethics of Our Fathers: “In a place where there is no man, strive to be a man.” In other words, if there is nobody to do the job, take it upon yourself to do it. Moshiach then added that since he was the only one who could carry out the task in a pleasant manner, he should go there. “G-d has granted him the necessary talents, and if he will not do it nobody else will.”
The letter concluded with Moshiach’s wish of mazel tov for the birth of a son. At that time, Rabbi Raskin and his wife had not yet been blessed with children. The message was clear: Take the job upon yourselves, and the blessing will come.
From the moment they accepted this mission upon themselves, the Raskins threw themselves energetically into the task. Within a month they had sold all their furniture in Israel and packed their remaining belongings for the move to Chmelnitzki. They still did not know exactly where they would live, how they would learn the local language, or how they would acclimate to life in a place where there was no readily available kosher food or established community with friends and relatives. But like all emissaries of Moshiach, they believed that his blessings would stand them by and enable them to overcome all challenges.
What was especially difficult for them was that due to their move to Ukraine, they were forced to interrupt their treatments with fertility specialists, which they hoped would enable them to have a child. But Rabbi Raskin and his wife believed in Moshiach’s blessing more than in the treatment!
That summer, after several months of intense work in Ukraine, Rabbi Raskin and his wife visited Israel. After a short visit Rabbi Raskin returned to Chmelnitzki, leaving his wife in Israel for several more weeks to undergo some treatments.
One evening, after speaking on the phone to his wife in Israel, Rabbi Raskin was overcome with despondent thoughts. Because of his duties in Chmelnitzki, he had been forced to leave his wife in Israel to undergo the difficult treatments alone…
That night, Rabbi Raskin had a dream. He was in Moshiach’s synagogue attending a Chassidic gathering, a farbrengen, with Moshiach. Suddenly he found himself at Moshiach’s table, seated at Moshiach’s right side. Moshiach appeared young, with a dark beard. “What is happening in your town?” Moshiach asked.
“There are some problems,” Rabbi Raskin answered. He hoped that Moshiach would ask about his wife. But Moshiach questioned him repeatedly about what was happening in Chmelnitzki. Rabbi Raskin burst into tears.
In his dream, Moshiach hugged Rabbi Raskin, and he felt that Moshiach was crying together with him.
When Rabbi Raskin awoke he remembered all the details of his dream and felt as though Moshiach had lifted the burden off his shoulders. Now he was sure that good news awaited them.
Several months after that wonderful dream, Rabbi Raskin and his wife visited Haditch, where the Alter Rebbe, founder of Chabad, was buried. It was 20 degrees below zero that day, yet they remained there and read the entire book of Psalms. There they decided that when G-d would bless them with a son, they would name him Schneur Zalmen, after the Alter Rebbe.
Schneur Zalmen Raskin, the firstborn son of the Rebbe’s emissaries to Chmelnitzki, was born later that year.[/vc_column_text][/vc_tta_section][vc_tta_section title=”Five for Five” tab_id=”1624970990447-aae80c0a-eaf5″][vc_column_text]Shimon and Yael Spitzer of Florida were married for many years without children. They went through rounds of treatment and much tears and prayer and were finally granted their desire, not once but five times over. Yael gave birth to quintuplets.
Before the birth of the quintuplets, the Spitzers lived modestly. However, the birth of the quints threw them into a financial crisis. A woman in the community, Mrs. Gordon, heard of their plight and contributed generously to support the newly expanded family.
One day Mrs. Gordon decided to visit the beneficiaries of her generosity. When she entered the Spitzers’ home, her gaze fell on the portrait of a woman hanging on the wall. Suddenly she collapsed in a faint. An ambulance was called and Mrs. Gordon was rushed to the hospital.
Naturally, Mrs. Spitzer was concerned for the welfare of her benefactress. The next day she went to visit Mrs. Gordon in the hospital. She could not understand why Mrs. Gordon was so affected by seeing the portrait of her mother.
When Mrs. Spitzer came to visit, Mrs. Gordon was very moved, even more so when she heard that the portrait she saw was that of Mrs. Spitzer’s mother. “I owe your mother my life,” she explained and began to relate her tale.
“I am a Holocaust survivor and I was in the Bergen-Belsen death camp. I was part of a group of teenage girls who tried to keep mitzvot as best as we could, despite the horrors all around us.
“It was a few days before Chanukah. We saved up our tiny margarine ration for days, to have enough fat to light the Chanukah candles. We tore threads out of our clothes and fashioned them into wicks. All we were lacking were cups to hold the margarine and wicks.
“The most practical solution was to use potato peels. But acquiring the peels was a feat requiring much ingenuity and courage. We needed to sneak out of our barracks at night into the kitchen, and steal the potato peels.
“Our investigations revealed that the kitchen was unguarded for exactly five minutes each night, from midnight until 12:05 a.m. Five of us decided to take our lives into our hands by sneaking into the kitchen to get the peels. I was among the five.
“We crept up to the door of the kitchen, but to our horror, the guard spotted us. He grabbed us and recorded our names and numbers, and ominously told us that the next day we’d be taken out and hanged publicly, as a warning to all the other inmates.
“There was a Jewish girl in the camp who lived separately from the rest of us. She was fluent in many languages and the officers in the camp used her as an interpreter. She’d listen to foreign radio broadcasts and report their content to the camp’s commander. Due to her work, she was given a hut of her own and several other special privileges.
“We decided that we would turn to her and beg her to intercede with the camp’s commander to save our lives. We snuck out of our barrack and made our way over to her private hut. The hut was dark, but we heard hushed singing coming from inside. Putting our ears close to the door, we heard her making a blessing over the Chanukah candles and singing ‘Maoz Tzur.’
“We entered her hut and begged her to intervene on our behalf, as we were going to be publicly hanged the next day. However, she refused to listen to us. She yelled at us and angrily chased us out of her hut.
“Heartbroken, we returned to our barracks to await our fate. The next day the five of us were taken to the central square of the camp. All the prisoners were gathered around to watch. Five gallows were set up for us, and the noose placed around our necks. Our terror knew no bounds. At any moment the commandant would give his signal and the chairs we were standing on would be kicked away, leaving us to our horrible fate.
“With only moments left to live, we prayed to G-d in our hearts. Suddenly there was a commotion. The girl we had spoken to the night before came flying into the square, went over to the commander and whispered in his ear. She gesticulated wildly and seemed to be very overwrought. We do not know what she told the commander, but he didn’t look very happy about what she was saying. In any event, he gave word to remove the nooses from our necks and ordered us to disperse.”
Mrs. Gordon took a deep breath and wiped the tears coursing down her cheeks. “Shortly after our Chanukah miracle, the Bergen-Belsen camp was liberated. The war ended, and I never had a chance to thank the girl who saved my life. I carry her image in my heart; I have never forgotten her. Suddenly I saw a picture of her on the wall of your house…”
Now it was the turn of Mrs. Spitzer to say a few words.
“The night before I gave birth, my mother came to me in a dream and said in Yiddish, ‘Finf far finf,’ five for five. I asked my mother what she meant, but she did not answer.
“The next day, my quintuplets were born. I assumed my mother was alluding to their birth, but I did not know in exchange for which five my babies were born. Now I know.”[/vc_column_text][/vc_tta_section][vc_tta_section title=”Before and After” tab_id=”1624971050815-029cf972-8ab8″][vc_column_text]Yehuda Ben-Zion, the son of immigrants from Tehran, was born in Kiryat Malachi when it was but a small transit camp, before it became a major city in Israel. After his military service, he met Sarah, a young woman from a background similar to his own, and both decided to settle in Kiryat Malachi, where he grew up..
Not long after their marriage, Sarah became pregnant, but sadly the pregnancy did not last. Sarah conceived twice more, once with twins, but none of the pregnancies concluded successfully. The grief of Yehuda and Sarah were unimaginable. As traditional Jews, they turned to many rabbis and asked them for blessings, which did not bear fruit.
This was in 1982. A friend of theirs, Avraham Aligolashvili, a Chabad Chossid, suggested that they write a letter to the Lubavitcher Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita and ask for his blessing. It was during the month of Elul, a time of preparation for the Jewish new year. Avraham explained to them that this was a very busy period for the King Moshiach Shlita during which he received thousands of letters from around the world, so it was unlikely that they would receive a response. “But I’m sure Moshiach will send his blessing nevertheless, and you will soon merit a child of your own.”
Yehuda remembers, “Of course I agreed to his suggestion. I sat down and with a sense of great awe, I composed a letter to Moshiach detailing all the anguish we had been through in trying to have a child, with all the traumatic miscarriages my wife had suffered. With all my heart, I asked Moshiach to bless me as our situation had become desperate.
“As soon as I finished writing, I felt an inexplicable sense of peace, security and tranquility. I felt sure that Moshiach’s blessing had already been granted.”
Rabbi Avraham Aligolashvili traveled to New York with the letter, and Yehuda and his wife went through the holiday season with a sense of hope and anticipation for the long-awaited miracle.
Yehuda continues: “One day, when I returned from work, I found in the mailbox a personal letter that had come to me from Moshiach. I was stunned. I remembered my friend telling me not to expect an answer due to Moshiach’s tremendous workload, so I could not believe my eyes.
“With great excitement, I opened the envelope and read Moshiach’s blessing. “I confirm that I have received his letter with a request for a blessing… for the date of the 3rd of Elul,” Moshiach wrote. “I will mention it at the gravesite of my father-in-law” (Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak, the previous Lubavitcher Rebbe).
“I immediately called Rabbi Avraham, who had already returned from New York, and told him about the letter. He found it hard to believe and hurried over to my house. Together we went to Rabbi Yitzchak Yehuda Yaroslavsky, the rabbi of Nachalat Har Chabad, the Chabad neighborhood in Kiryat Malachi, who helped me decipher Moshiach’s letter.
“Shortly afterward we were informed of good news. Sarah became pregnant again. This time we were able to get an appointment with a fertility specialist at Hadassah Ein Kerem Medical Center. He discovered the problem that had caused the previous miscarriages and explained how to treat it.
“From that point on it was obvious that Moshiach was guiding our path. Throughout the nine months of pregnancy, Moshiach’s letter was never far from our reach.”
On Rosh Chodesh Tammuz, 10 months since Yehuda wrote to Moshiach, Sarah gave birth to twins. Their happiness knew no bounds. “We felt that Moshiach was ‘compensating’ us for all we had been through since our marriage.”
Yehuda and Sarah named their daughters Liraz and Liat, and of course held a public thanksgiving ceremony. They informed Moshiach that his blessing had borne fruit, and they merited to receive an answer from Moshiach blessing them on the birth of their daughters. The letter was dated the 15th of Tammuz. “In response to the announcement that they had twins in a fortuitous hour, may it be G-d’s will that they grow up to Torah, to marriage and to good deeds.”
Many years have passed since then and then twins are grown women. After experiencing such a great miracle, Yehuda made sure to keep Moshiach’s instructions to attend Torah classes and always carry a charity box and a book of Chumash, Psalms and Tanya in his car for protection. When people ask him if he’s a Chabad chassid, he simply tells them the story of the miraculous birth of his daughters.[/vc_column_text][/vc_tta_section][vc_tta_section title=”Healthy Children, At Last ” tab_id=”1624971092409-9f5facc3-f946″][vc_column_text]Shimon Ben-Chai
Queens, New York
Healthy Children, At Last
My wife Nava and I were married 35 years ago. Shortly after our wedding, we found out that we were expecting our first child.
At the end of the sixth month, complications arose and Nava had to go to the hospital. The baby, a girl, was born, but lived for only an hour.
We returned to our empty home and tried to deal with the loss. We decided to try again for a healthy child.
The next time around, the pregnancy seemed to go normally. After nine months, we found ourselves traveling once again to the hospital, our lips uttering words of prayer that things should just go well.
The doctor came out of the delivery room with a solemn expression on his face. “Not again,” I thought to myself despairingly.
The doctor informed me that I had a baby boy, alive but with many health problems. The joy that the baby was alive made me forget the complications for the moment – a very brief moment.
My wife sat near the baby in the hospital, day and night. For four harrowing months, she hardly came home. It’s difficult for me even to recall that horrible time.
In the physical sense, our prayers didn’t help. After four months, my wife returned home without the child. He did not make it.
This was much harder than the first time. I felt that I was about to explode. Friends and neighbors looked at me with absolute pity. I could read their minds: “Look at that poor man; he has already lost two children.”
My wife traveled to the Lubavitcher Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita to receive his blessing. She burst into tears and asked the King Moshiach Shlita for a blessing to have children. She said that she couldn’t take it anymore, and she wanted a living and healthy child.
The King Moshiach Shlita merely looked at her with kindly eyes, but said nothing.
The third pregnancy was a repeat of the previous ones. The hopes, the prayers, the expectations, and the great disappointment. This time, the baby lived for six months before passing away. The baby was interred next to his other siblings.
From then on, it had already become a grim routine. My wife would become pregnant, go to the hospital… and give birth to an unviable child. We would go back home and recuperate, but we remained unbroken – until the next time. Five, yes, five more agonizing times – our hopes and anticipation ended in grief and bitter frustration.
My wife wrote many times to the King Moshiach Shlita requesting a blessing, yet the King Moshiach Shlita did not respond.
During Nava’s ninth pregnancy, the doctors revealed that she was carrying twins. This led them to draw two conclusions: First, it was imperative for Nava to remain under observation from the fourth month, and second, in light of her previous history, she must abort one of the fetuses, as giving birth to twins would endanger her life.
It was 1993, after the King Moshiach Shlita had suffered a stroke, and the King Moshiach Shlita no longer spoke nor responded to letters personally. The new rule was that the secretary went in and asked the King Moshiach Shlita to reply with a nod or a shake of his head.
Nava wrote to the King Moshiach Shlita–again. We are believing Jews who know the power of a tzaddik. Two days later, we received a call from the secretary. The King Moshiach Shlita had indicated that she should not go to the hospital for observation; rather, she should arrange for a personal attendant to help her until the birth. After a few days, we received a letter in the mail. The King Moshiach Shlita had sent Nava three dollars, apparently for her and the twins.
The doctor at Long Island Jewish Hospital, an observant Jew, widened his eyes in shock when we informed him that Nava wanted to check out of the hospital and spend the pregnancy at home. “Do you understand what you’re about to do? Do you understand that you’re endangering your wife because of the advice of some rabbi? What does a rabbi know about this?”
Of course, they wouldn’t release us from the hospital until we signed a form declaring that we accept all responsibility for whatever happens. Only after we signed did the doctors agree to release Nava.
Today, I have two children in their 20s, a son and a daughter, alive and well – and it is all in the merit of the King Moshiach Shlita’s blessing.[/vc_column_text][/vc_tta_section][/vc_tta_accordion][/vc_column][/vc_row]