A Jew who visited Italy told this story. He heard the story from a tour guide there, about a group of Hassidic Jews who had been in Italy a week previously.
This Hassidic group was travelling on a private bus on the highway with many lanes, a highway that rarely has traffic. They intended to pray Mincha upon their return to the hotel. For whatever reason, there was suddenly a big traffic jam on their highway. The Hassidim knew that they would not be able to arrive at the hotel before sunset. They told their guide that they wanted to stop at the nearby gas station to wash their hands and pray Mincha properly.
The tour guide told them, “Just pray on the bus.”
They said, “What? On the bus? There is no chance! We want to pray standing up, we want to wash our hands first...”
The tour guide responded, “Are you insane? This is Italy! There is antisemitism around here! If people see you praying at the gas station, who knows what they will do to you!” But the Hassidim insisted. “Someone who beautifies a Mitzvah, nothing bad will happen to them!”
The guide stopped the bus. The Hassidim got off the bus, washed their hands, and got ready to pray, deciding who among them should be the Hazzan. Suddenly, they see a huge motorcycle pull up right next to them, with a very loud and obnoxious engine sound. The motor-biker had a ponytail and looked scary. He pulled off his helmet, and looked at the Hassidic group. “Mincha?” he asked.
They said, Yes. He said, Great. He prayed Mincha with them, and then said Kaddish. One of the guys approached him, and asked, “Excuse me. But the way you look, I would have never thought that you knew what Mincha or Kaddish is, or what it even means to be a Jew...”
The biker said, “I grew up in Jerusalem, in Beit Yisrael neighborhood, in a Hareidi home. I went to Chutz La-aretz (outside Israel), and I went down in my spirituality, and in my religious observance. My father died a few years ago. Shortly before he passed, when we knew that his days were limited, he asked to speak with me. He said, “I begged you, that you put on Tefillin and keep Shabbat; but it seems that I have no one to talk to. One thing I am asking from you, please say Kaddish for me!”
I said to my father, you want me to say Kaddish!?! Better that I should not say Kaddish! I eat pork with my mouth, and I use my mouth to speak inappropriate talk. My mouth won’t be able to help your soul with its Kaddish!!!
My father responded, “It seems that this is the Kaddish that I deserve... But all I am asking of you is to say Kaddish, once a year, on my Yahrzeit. That is it. Once a year!
O.k. No problem.
I said Kaddish each year on his yahrzeit. But today, I planned on travelling from my city in Italy, where I live, to Merce. 700 kilometers. As I was in the middle of my trip, I remembered that today is my father’s Yahrzeit. But as I was on the road, I realized that in all these small cities on the road, there are no minyanim, no Kaddish. As I road my bike, I turned to G-d and said, Master of the World! If you want me to say Kaddish for my father, please make it that I will have a minyan! This will be the sign. If my Kaddish is worth anything, I will find a minyan! But if my kaddish is not worth anything, I will not find a minyan!
I kept riding my bike, and the sun was setting. I understood that my Kaddish was not worth anything. Suddenly, I see a group of Hassidim at a gas station, out of nowhere, getting ready to pray. My heart jumped! G-d made it possible for me to say Kaddish for my father! G-d showed me that my Kaddish is worth something!
The Hassid told the man: G-d made this whole traffic jam, out of nowhere, in Italy, and a bunch of Hassidim who are not afraid of antisemitism, and who will do anything to pray the best Mincha they can, because there is nothing in the world that is precious to G-d, like your Kaddish!!! So why do you say Kaddish once a year?! Say it as often as you can!
Reprinted from an email of Shabbat Shalom from Cyberspace.
