“But what are we to do?” they cried. He replied simply (nothing that issued forth from his mouth could be called “simply”), “Go to the Kosel and pray – one never knows from where the yeshuah, salvation, can come.”
The young man went to the Kosel to pour out his heart. He had no idea how this would change his predicament, but, when Rav Elyashiv spoke, one listened. When people saw the intensity of his tefillah and the bitter sobbing that accompanied it, they, too began to pray. Soon, many supplicants who had come for their own needs were praying for this young man to have a yeshuah. Suddenly, an elderly chasid who spoke no English went over to the young man and said to him, Gei tzu dein Tatteh! Gei tzu dein Tatteh! “Go to your father.”
Someone translated the phrase to the young man. When he looked around, the elderly chasid was gone. Now what? His father was lying terminally ill in Dallas, Texas. Their relationship the last few years had, at best, been strained. He felt that, regardless of the situation, he must do his part. He flew to Dallas that night. His father knew that the end was near, and he figured that, if his son was here, he might as well come to terms and reconcile with him. His father asked why his wife had not come. He explained about the divorce, his voice breaking with every sentence.
He explained about the divorce, the halachah, the pregnancy and the fact that he was a Kohen precluded him from remarrying his wife. His father lay there soaking up everything, his eyes moist. After all, he was a father, and he realized that his son was suffering. He loved him, despite his choice to adopt a different lifestyle than the one in which he was raised. He may have fought him on it, but at the moment, it was about reconciliation, not conflict. He lay there, sunken into his bed, his body frail and trembling with weakness.
Yet, with visible effort, he lifted his head slightly, his parched lips began to move as he summoned the strength to speak to his son. "You can dance! You can go back to your wife and together raise your future child. I never told you that your mother and I were unable to have children. Because of my foolish pride, we never let anyone know that we had adopted you and raised you as our own son. You are not a Kohen!"
It all became clear. Rav Elyashiv had advised him to go to the Kosel and daven - which he did. It was there that he was answered. Horav Chaim Kanievsky, zl, (quoted by Rabbi Paysach Krohn), said (with regard to another situation), "At times, Hashem puts words in a tzadik's mouth and only later does he realize why he said them."
Reprinted from the Parshas Vayishlach email of Peninim on the Torah, a publication of the Hebrew Academy of Cleveland, edited by Rabbi L. Scheinbaum.
