(The following has been taken from R’ Eliezer Parkoff’s Weekly Chizuk Letter)
On Tisha B’Av we sit and mourn the destruction of the Beis HaMikdosh. It is very difficult for us to really appreciate the loss of our holy Temple, having happened so distant in the past. The great Yerushalmi Maggid Rav Shabsai Yudelevitz, zt”l, once told over a marvelous moshol from the Dubno Maggid, which will help us comprehend a bit our loss.
There was a wonderful Yid who lived in a small town. He was a talmid chochom as well as a successful businessman. He had a wonderful life. They were baale tzedakah, and very respected people. They had everything that one could wish for, except for one thing: they had no children. They did whatever they could. They went to all the tzaddikim for berachos. They davened. And Hakodosh Boruch Hu was good to them in everything. The more they davened the more they were successful in all areas of life, in their business, in their wealth. And everything was going so good for them. Except for the one thing they wanted more than anything else in the world: for reasons known only to the Ribbono Shel Olam, they had no children. His wife wanted this so desperately. She wanted to hold a baby in her arms. He wanted so deeply to have a son that he could teach Torah to, who would say kaddish for him after 120.
But the gates of Heaven were sealed shut, and they were getting on and on in their years, and their optimism was fading. They were at the age where people lose hope of having children and they were about to plummet into despair.
And then like a miracle, the wife found out that she was expecting a baby. You can’t imagine the simcha, you can’t imagine the joy and excitement that now filled their home. They were counting the days and the weeks. They went out to buy a crib and a baby carriage and baby furniture and baby clothing and all the paraphernalia needed to take care of a newborn. The house was alive with excitement that finally Hashem blessed them. Now their life would truly be filled with meaning and hope and they would have someone to continue their legacy to the generations. As the due date approached, the excitement grew greater and greater.
One day she realized this is it, the baby was arriving. She told her husband to immediately call in the midwife. The midwife came, but after a little while she came out to inform the husband that things weren’t going smoothly. There are difficulties, it’s not going well. Your wife and baby are both in great danger and I’m not equipped or skilled to deal with such a situation. You had better quickly call the doctor.
So, he quickly ran to call the town doctor. But he was a wealthy man and didn’t want to take any risks, so he sent a telegram to the big city and wrote that the best and most knowledgeable doctor should come. Don’t worry about money, I will pay for anything, just come quickly.
Before going home, he ran to give tzedokah. He went to the Beis Medrash and asked the talmiday chachomim to please daven and say Tehillim. My wife and baby, their lives are in danger.
He came back to his home and found the town doctor talking to a strange man. This was the professor from the big city. They looked very concerned and tense. The doctor turned to him with a grieved face and he said, Things aren’t going well. I don’t know what to do. We’re faced with a terrible, terrible dilemma. We should never hear of such a difficult problem.
We can save the baby. We can operate on your wife and we can take out this baby boy. But she is so weak from the ordeal it is very doubtful if she will survive. Or we can save her life at the expense of the life of the baby. So, we have to choose between the two. It is impossible that both will survive.
He was in shock. You mean I have to sit here and choose between life and death. How am I even supposed to think about such a decision. I don’t know what to say. It’s not my decision.
So, he decided he’s going to go ask the Rav. He ran to the Rav of the town and explained the situation. With tears in his eyes he asked, Rebbe, what should I do?
The Rav sat there a few minutes in silence and then turned to the husband. “I don’t know what to tell you. But it’s not a decision that you or I can make. The only one who is entitled to make such a decision is your wife. You have to tell her what’s at stake and she is the only one who can decide.”
He went back home and went into his wife. She was suffering terribly and was very weak from the ordeal. And he said, the doctors tell us that you are faced now with a terrible choice. Only you or our baby can survive. And it’s up to you to make the decision.
It didn’t take her long to give an answer. She said, “What kind of life will I have if I have no continuation for the generations. There is no question. I will gladly give up my life for the life of my baby. But I have one request of you, my dear husband. When this little baby grows up and is old enough to understand, you will take him to my grave and you will tell him what his momma did for him. You will explain to him how I gave away my life so that he should live, and that he should grow to become great in Torah and mitzvos. I want him to understand this. And I want that you should describe to him what I was like, so that he has a memory of me. I want you to promise me that.”
The husband gave his promise to his wife and with tears in his eyes he went out to tell the doctors his wife’s decision. They should save the baby.
The doctor operated, and he took out a newborn healthy baby boy. Everyone yelled out Mazal Tov! A baby born after so many years of anxious anticipation.
That very night the husband escorted his wife to her final resting place in the cemetery. A week later there was the celebration of the bris milah. But it was lonely as his wife was not at his side to enjoy the simcha. The father had no one with whom to share the simcha.
The years went on, and he raised the child himself with tremendous love and devotion. He gave his son anything the child needed or wanted for his growth.
When he became old enough to understand, on the yahrzeit of his mother he said, come my child, I want to take you somewhere. He took the little boy by the hand and he took him to the cemetery and brought him to the grave of his mother. “You see this matzeiva, this is the burial place of your mother and I want to tell you story of your birth.” He told his child the story, and he told his son that his mother didn’t hesitate to make the decision to give her life, to sacrifice her own life, so that he could live.
