Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv
Dovid A. tells this fascinating story:
When I was studying in yeshiva, my younger brother spent the year learning in a yeshiva in Eretz Yisroel. During bein hazmanim, my parents bought a ticket for me to go visit my brother in Eretz Yisroel (it was cheaper for me to go than to buy two tickets for them). I enjoyed a wonderful week in yeshiva, learning and spending time with my brother.
The trouble started on the way home. My mother had bought for me a return ticket on a Thursday evening. Keep in mind that this was in the winter, when Shabbos starts around 4:30.
“Don’t worry,” my mother reassured me. “You’re scheduled to land in New York early Friday morning, so you won’t have any problems.”
The plane had a scheduled stopover in Ireland, to refuel, and since we landed in Ireland in the middle of the night, I was fast asleep. Therefore, I didn’t notice that we had been on the ground there for a few hours, instead of the brief stopover that was scheduled. I was awakened by an announcement from the captain, who said:
“Ladies and gentlemen, unfortunately we seem to be having engine problems. This plane will not be able to take off. Everyone needs to disembark. You will be brought to a hotel where you will be given a free breakfast. Then, when a new flight has been arranged for you, you will be brought back to the airport.”
All of the non‐Jews on the plane cheered: “Yay! Free breakfast!” And all of the frum Jews on the plane groaned: “Oh, no! Shabbos!”
I didn’t know what to do, so I decided that I’ll just stick with all of the other frum Jews, and do whatever they do. We got off the plane and went to the parking lot. There wasn’t enough space for everyone at one hotel, so we were sent to two different hotels. Everyone was given a card indicating which bus they should get onto. As it turned out, all of the frum Jews had one color card, and I had the other one. An airline employee said to me: “Sir, this is the wrong bus. You need to get on the other bus.”
“I’m getting on this bus, with these people,” I insisted. It could have gotten uncomfortable, but, Baruch Hashem, at that moment, someone appeared and said: “I have the other color card. I don’t mind switching with you.”
This was the first of a series of clear indications that Hashem was watching out for me. At the hotel, all the non‐Jews went to have breakfast. All of the frum Jews made a minyan for Shacharis. After davening, they informed us that they had a new flight for us. It would arrive in New York a half hour before Shabbos. If we didn’t take this flight, then we’d have to make our own arrangements, and potentially pay for a new ticket. Then they gave everyone one phone call (this was in the days before cell phones).
I used my call to call my parents and tell them where I was (and thereby caused them to panic for the rest of the day). There was a guy there who took the lead of our group. He used his call to call a relative in Eretz Yisroel to get him to ask Rav Elyashiv if it was muttar for us to take this flight that would be landing so close to Shabbos. After a little bit, his relative called him back with the answer:
Rav Elyashiv said to go for it, and he gives us his brachah!
Most of us lived too far from the airport to get home with only half an hour, but this man said he had an aunt who lived near the airport, and we could all stay with her for Shabbos. So, we got back on the buses, and went back to the airport.
When we arrived, we discovered that they didn’t really have a new plane for us. Instead, it was a preexisting flight that had some free seats, but there weren’t enough seats for everybody.
We still had to stand on line at the ticket agent to get a new ticket. Before I knew what happened, I found myself standing all the way in the back of a very long line. By the time I got to the front, there were no more tickets left to New York. They had some tickets to Chicago, but that would land after Shabbos started already. Then they said they also had some tickets to Boston.
Perfect! I’m originally from Boston, and my parents still live there. Plus, the plane would land an hour and a half before Shabbos. Plenty of time to get home! Once I was on the plane, I looked around to find any other frum Jews who had gotten on the plane. I found two people, and offered them that they could stay at my parents’ house for Shabbos. However, they said they had a friend in Boston, and would stay there.
Everything went fine until we arrived in Boston. For some reason, the plane wasn’t landing. It was just going around in circles around the airport. The captain announced: “Ladies and gentlemen. There is a snow storm in Boston right now, and we can’t land. This may be a while, so we’re going to put on a video while you wait.”
Now I started panicking again. A stewardess noticed that I looked distressed, and asked what was wrong. I explained the situation. She allowed me to sit in a first‐class seat in the front, so I could be first to get off the plane.
When we finally landed, about a half hour before Shabbos, I was standing there waiting as they opened the door. There was an airline employee standing there, waiting to greet the disembarking passengers. She seemed surprised when I immediately dashed right past her, and she had to run to keep up with me.
The luggage wasn’t coming out immediately, so I just ran out without my suitcase. I hooked up with the other two frum people, and we asked the people if they minded if he cut the line for a taxi. We then prepaid the driver some money, and told him to drive as fast as he could.
Unfortunately, there was rush hour traffic. Plus, it was the middle of a snowstorm, so he couldn’t go very fast. When it was shkiah, we told him to pull over, and we got out. The other two people said their friend lived nearby, so they said goodbye. Then I walked in a snowstorm for about an hour and a half to my parents’ home. But it was all worth it when I saw the look on my mother’s face when she opened the door (she thought I might be in Ireland for Shabbos, but hadn’t heard anything from me since the morning)! I said to her, “Good Shabbos. I had a rough day today. How was your day?”
We had a very enjoyable time that Shabbos. After Shabbos, the question was if we could get any of my luggage back. We drove to the airport to look for my suitcase. The terminal was empty and dark, however, in the back there was an office with the light on. We went to that office, and nobody was there, but my suitcase was sitting right there! We called out, and someone came out from another room, and was happy to give me my suitcase back. Everything worked out perfectly, Hashem watched over me every step of the way! And the bracha of Rav Elyashiv was fulfilled!
Reprinted from the Parshas Vayeira 5785 email of Shabbos Chayeinu as compiled by Tzvi Schulz.
