[vc_row][vc_column][vc_tta_accordion active_section=”-1″ collapsible_all=”true”][vc_tta_section title=”“You Must Keep Shabbat”” tab_id=”1624966232619-d34fa254-bfdc”][vc_column_text]David Solomon was what you would call a self-made man. He lived in Manhattan and had built himself up from almost nothing. Now he was a multi-millionaire with several factories, had substantial holdings on Wall Street and knew exactly how loud money talks.
Of course, there was no place in his life for Judaism and no time for anything except business and family.
The most precious of all to him was his 18-year-old daughter, Sarah. Her picture was on his desk and every wall of his office. He dreamed of the day that she would marry and he would see grandchildren. He even had a special fund saved up to buy her a new house and whatever she needed.
He was sitting in his office one day when the phone rang. “Mr. Solomon?” asked an official-sounding voice on the other end of the line.
“Yes.”
“Have you got a daughter by the name of Sarah Solomon?”
Again he answered yes.
“This is a police officer speaking from County Hospital. You’d better get down here fast, Mr. Solomon. Your daughter has been in a pretty severe automobile accident.”
Mr. Solomon raced out of the office.
It was a nightmare. She was in critical condition. In a coma. Wires and instruments were attached to every part of her body. The doctors said that it was impossible to operate until her condition stabilized.
Mr. Solomon stood there weeping. What could he do? His wife arrived and she too burst out in tears.
The next few days were almost without sleep. They waited in the hall for some news from the doctors. Perhaps she opened her eyes? Perhaps there would be some improvement?
But the only message of hope he received was his father’s suggestion that he consult with the Lubavitcher Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita.
“He’s the only one who can help,” his father said. “I have friends who have experienced great miracles with him. If anyone can help you, he can. Just go, get an appointment and get to see him.”
David’s emotions began flipping. At first, he was excited; there was hope! But suddenly he was afraid. “I don’t keep any commandments. I don’t even own a yarmulke! How can I go to this Rabbi? I’ll be so ashamed.”
But then his confidence returned. He remembered his money. “I’ll give a big donation and the Rabbi will certainly hear what I have to say.”
David got directions, jumped in his car and drove down to the Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita’s headquarters in Brooklyn to arrange a private meeting (called “Yechidus”). There he learned that usually, people had to wait for months, but because of the urgency, he was given precedence. That evening, many hours later, he was standing before the King Moshiach Shlita in Moshiach’s office room.
“Moshiach!” He began to cry. “My daughter had a terrible accident. She is in critical condition. Moshiach, can you save her? Here, here is a check for 50 thousand dollars! For your institutions.”
Moshiach just looked at him without seeming to notice the check and said, “If you want to save your daughter, you must begin to observe Shabbos.”
Shabbos? You mean not drive or turn on lights and those things on Saturday?
“Moshiach,” David replied, “I can’t promise such a thing. I’m a very busy man and I’m not a religious Jew. Here!” He took out his checkbook, put it on Moshiach’s desk and began writing.
“Here. One hundred thousand dollars! Please, Moshiach, please add this to the first check. Just save my daughter.”
Moshiach looked at him even more intently and said, “Mr. Solomon, I am here to help you. That money might help my institutions, but if you want to help your daughter, you must keep Shabbos.”
“Moshiach, here!” said Mr. Solomon as he signed his name to another check and placed it before Moshiach. “It’s an open check. Write what you want. Take what you need, just save her!”
“G-d is responsible for her healing,” Moshiach replied. “You must appeal to Him. I can help with prayer, but you must also do your part. At least keep Shabbos. Then your daughter will be healthy and you will even see grandchildren from her.”
Mr. Solomon gathered up his checks. He said he would think about it, shook Moshiach’s hand and left, closing the door after him.
That night he couldn’t sleep. The meeting with Moshiach had made a deep impression on him. Moshiach’s face danced before his eyes, saying, “I am here to help you. Keep Shabbos.” It was the first time in his life he met a man that was not interested in his own personal profit.
Meanwhile, Sarah’s condition deteriorated.
“Fine,” he said to his wife. “This Shabbos we won’t drive or turn on any lights. I mean, we’ll be staying in the hospital anyway, so we have nowhere to go. And I think I remember how my father used to make Kiddush; we can at least begin to do what Rabbi Schneerson, the King Moshiach Shlita said.”
That Sunday there was some improvement, and the next Sunday Sarah opened her eyes for the first time in a month.
Mr. Solomon became a Shomer Shabbos Jew and his daughter Sarah not only became completely healed, she eventually got married and had several children. Just as Moshiach said.[/vc_column_text][/vc_tta_section][vc_tta_section title=”A New Life” tab_id=”1624966232628-da408ac8-677e”][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 Answer in the Book” tab_id=”1624972362054-6695a372-c2ec”][vc_column_text]by Refoel Avraham Dobkin
Each Friday, I would go out to a public place on Mivtzoim, the Lubavitcher Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita’s mitzvah campaigns, to persuade fellow Jews to perform Mitzvos.
I went out on my regular weekly route with my friend, Yisroel Noach Friedman, to Merkaz Giora, a main shopping and business center in Safed. After about an hour of helping fellow Jews put on tefillin, a middle-aged man passed by our stand. We asked him if he would like to put on tefillin, but he declined with a rejecting wave of his hand. I noticed that his refusal was somewhat hesitant, so I tried to get into conversation with him and explain the great value in putting on tefillin.
As he listened to my pitch, he softened up a bit, introducing himself as Moshe E., who had recently undergone some major upheavals. According to his story, he had five complicated heart operations during the last year alone, and his doctors saw no hope for his recovery. I sympathized totally with him and his plight. As we spoke, he rolled up his sleeve and asked to put on tefillin.
After he removed the tefillin, he continued to tell me his story with a heavy heart. It turned out that not only did he have five heart surgeries recently, but his doctors had informed him that he would have to go through another one even more complicated than the others. If that wasn’t enough, his wife had decided that she wanted a divorce, and he had just heard from the courts that she was suing him for half of all his possessions, including a demand for sole ownership of their house.
Due to his health problems, he also found himself out of a job. He had just been fired from work, and therefore, was forced to accept help from friends and acquaintances, something he never believed he would ever do. Because of all these events, his troubled soul found no rest.
We suggested that he write to the Lubavitcher Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita for advice and a blessing, and place the letter into a volume of Igrot Kodesh, the King Moshiach Shlita’s published letters. At first, the man had doubts about the effectiveness of writing to Moshiach, but after a little explanation, he accepted the idea.
He sat on the side and with the utmost solemnity, wrote about all that he had gone through over the past few years. The answer that he received appears in Vol. 14, p. 426:
“I happily received his letter from 7 Adar I, in which he writes about the improvement of his health and that they have already settled in an apartment. May it be G-d’s will that the general state of order, in connection with matters of livelihood, will also be realized very soon, as he desires…
“Awaiting good news in all the aforementioned, and may it be G-d’s will that just as he and his wife have seen the kindnesses of G-d Alm-ghty up until now, so they will find only goodness and kindness in their current place in proper order with health and broadening knowledge.”
There was no need to explain the answer to him, as the words were absolutely clear. Moshiach addressed every one of his difficulties: health, his relationship with his wife, and their financial situation.
This fellow was stunned. “How can it be that I write a letter to a book, and my answer is right there?” he cried.
A few months went by when suddenly one day we met him again on the street. He recognized us first and rushed to greet us.
“You won’t believe it,” he called out excitedly, “The Lubavitcher Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita is a giant among giants! Everything worked out so quickly, I’m still in shock and sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure that it’s for real!
“My wife suddenly decided to drop the case against me, and has returned home to me. Two weeks ago, still puzzled over what had brought her to change her mind, I arrived at the hospital for my sixth operation. A few days earlier, I had already made all the mental and physical preparations for the medical procedure. Yet, to my amazement, after undergoing a series of pre-surgery x-rays, the doctors informed me that based on the results, they saw no need for an operation…”
“Moshiach’s words were fulfilled, one by one,” he concluded. “Even our financial issues have been totally solved. A few days ago, I was accepted to a position at one of the precincts of the police department.”[/vc_column_text][/vc_tta_section][vc_tta_section title=”The Right Fit” tab_id=”1624972398639-1cb46a7b-f735″][vc_column_text]Rivka Gal
(A pseudonym)
I come from a Bucharian background. About twenty years ago, my parents made aliya. They were not religiously observant, but because of the following miracle that took place at my birth, they started becoming religious.
Before I was born, my parents had three children, one of whom had special needs. His therapy demanded great amounts of energy from my mother. Then my mother became pregnant with me. In an ultrasound test in her seventh month, the doctors saw a serious problem with the fetus. When my mother heard the doctors’ bleak pronouncements, she nearly collapsed. She could not think about bearing another child who would present many challenges.
Furthermore, in a situation where the family needs to arrange treatments for two ill children, finances would be a serious problem. The doctors recommended an abortion, but my mother refused. When she went into labor she was very apprehensive, but lo and behold, I was born healthy. In gratitude to G-d for this miracle, my parents came closer to their Jewish roots and adopted more religious practices.
The years passed, we grew up and it was time for my older brother to marry. He had been looking for a match for a long time but faced repeated obstacles. Whenever he would get very close to finalizing a match, something unexpected would come up which ruined it. This went on for years, and the repeated disappointments caused him to despair of ever getting married. Of course, my parents were very upset by this. They spoke to all kinds of rabbis and asked for advice, but nothing helped.
Since I had been helped in the past by blessings from the Rebbe King Moshiach Shlita’s published letters (Igrot Kodesh) and had seen miracles, I advised my brother to ask King Moshiach Shlita for a blessing. My older brothers learned in non-Chabad yeshivas, and when they heard my suggestion, they scoffed at it. My brother said, “Why do you think Moshiach can help? We have already gone to all the big rabbis. Besides, what is the source for this weird practice of opening books at random? There’s no way this practice is going to help me.”
I pleaded with him to try it. What did he have to lose? He finally gave in to my incessant entreaties. He wrote to Moshiach and put the letter into a volume of Igrot Kodesh. The answer he opened said to check his tefillin and mezuzos right away. He laughed at this and said, “You see how Moshiach’s answer has nothing to do with what I asked? We asked for a blessing for a match for me and got an answer to check tefillin and mezuzot …”
I explained to him that the vessel for receiving the blessing depended on listening to Moshiach’s instructions, but he refused to listen.
At home I would always prepare breakfast for my brothers. One morning, I told my brother that if he wanted me to continue making him breakfast, he had to listen to Moshiach. At first, he thought I was joking, but after a few days, when he saw that I was serious, he reluctantly took his tefillin to a Judaica store. The sofer took the tefillin, opened them in front of my brother, and showed him that they were unfit for use!
When my brother saw this, he realized how Moshiach sees what we do not see.
The tefillin were repaired, and as my brother left the store his phone rang; it was a matchmaker on the line with a new suggestion of a girl for my brother. They arranged for the couple to meet the following week.
My brother returned from that shidduch meeting very happy. He said, “I feel that this is the one.” Two months later, the couple was engaged.[/vc_column_text][/vc_tta_section][/vc_tta_accordion][/vc_column][/vc_row]