“ומן התכלת והארגמן ותולעת השני עשו בגדי שרד”
The beautiful clothes of the Kohen Gadol all had a special power, a segulah, to effect change and save from harm.
The miraculous quality of the clothing, according to our tradition, has been mystically passed over to the leaders of our time, the special tzadikim in every generation.
Reuven couldn’t bear staying in this room of sorrow. His young child had taken ill with high fevers and was seemingly struggling to breathe his last breath. It was already three o’clock in the morning, and the famed Dr. Krauss of Cracow had been at the boy’s side for nearly four hours, with no help in sight. Reuven’s son’s painful moans pierced his heart as he opened the door.
The dark cold air of the Polish night stung his face, but he walked on.
The lights of the city’s houses were dark, except for that of R’ Shimon Sofer, the rav of Cracow. The Hissorerus HaTeshuvah, famed grandson of the holy Chasam Sofer, was up learning, the candlelight burning in his study.
Reuven entered and proceeded to pour his heart out to the sympathetic shepherd of his people.
“Please take my scarf,” the Rav said, “and wrap it around your son’s neck, and with Hashem’s help, you will see a yeshua. But I have two conditions. One, please return it before dawn, and the second, you must not tell anyone this story.”
Reuven was back at his house in what seemed like mere moments and proceeded to wrap the scarf around his son’s neck. Within minutes, the fever subsided, and his breathing returned to normal. The danger had passed, the doctor informed him in amazement!
By dawn, Reuven was back at the Grand Rabbi’s door.
The eternally grateful bearer of good news thanked the rav, his face filled with hot tears.
“I did not do anything,” said Harav Shimon Sofer.
“It was the koach HaTorah, all the Torah learned while wearing this scarf throughout the years, that healed your son.”
Curious as to the reason behind the two requests, he asked the Rav. The Rav answered, “I asked for it back right away because I only have one scarf, and I needed it.”
“As to why I asked you to keep it a secret: Since I am responsible for the big city here, my obligations run from early morning to late at night. The only chance that I have to actually learn is in the wee hours of the morning. If word gets out that I see people at three o’clock, I might have no time to learn at all. Then, how will my scarf heal anyone?”
And now for an updated story of the power of a tzaddik’s holy clothing that took place right here in Monsey about 20 years ago:
Every year, on Purim night, I had a gathering in my house of friends and co-workers. One of my workmates was the erstwhile gabbai of the Holy Rimnitzer, and he brought the Rebbe’s white bekeshe to the mesiba.
Late that night, I called up a friend of mine who had long since fallen far away from observance, asking him to come to the get-together. Even though he had always refused my invitations, for some reason, he agreed to step out on this cold evening and made the trip to my house.
When he settled in, feeling obviously different from the other Yidden there, someone asked him jokingly to try on the Rebbe’s bekeshe.
To our surprise, he agreed. Everyone watched as his face glowed with pride and holiness, looking as if he were in a generational haze.
Something life-changing had taken place in the room when he put on that bekeshe.
It didn’t surprise me when my friend came back to full observance, becoming a member of the frum community again after being on the outside for close to 40 years!
Never underestimate the power of that which clothes our holy neshama!
RABBI ELI MANSOUR
RABBI BEN ZION SNEH
Written by R’ Avrohom Hillel Reich based on a lesson and story by Harav Ben Zion Sneh
