Several months after Prime Minister Ariel Sharon had suffered a stroke, his son went to the leading doctor in Israel and asked if anyone had ever had such a condition and walked out on his two feet. After rummaging through many profiles, the doctor recalled only one such episode. “There was only one such patient who completely recovered from such a stroke, but no one else. Don’t waste your time looking for solutions. It doesn’t pay.”
But the Prime Minister’s son was determined. He had to find out how that one person recovered and try that one last avenue. He went down to the street, called for a taxi, and headed to the neighborhood of Geula in Yerushalayim enroute to the man’s house. He wasn’t going to leave any stone unturned. When the man opened the door, the Prime Minister’s son saw that he was a saintly tzaddik in his mid-70s. He asked the prestigious looking fellow if he could come in and have a talk, and the tzaddik welcomed him in and offered him a refreshing glass of water.
The Prime Minister’s son then relayed his father’s situation and the numerous attempts that were made to send his father back into office that all fell flat. All the strategies made no improvement in the Prime Minister’s situation whatsoever. The host nodded his head; he understood all about the prognosis and the many attempts that were made. The Prime Minister’s son finished the story in a nutshell and then asked the $1,000,000 question: “So how did you get out of it yourself? Which medication did you take? It must’ve been something better than what the hospital is offering my father. Please enlighten me.”
The small apartment in Geula filled with pin-drop silence. Not a sound erupted from either of their mouths. Then the man said, “Truth be told, and even with all that we did, it’s a neis. No one can explain it. It was a miracle.”
“But at least tell me the thing you did,” demanded the visitor. “Teach me what you have different than the hospital.”
“It’s something that you cannot do.”
“I can’t do?!” questioned the Prime Minister’s son, a grin across his face. “Whatever you did I will do for my father.”
“The idea is irrelevant for your father — I can’t assist you any further.”
“Don’t you understand with whom you are dealing with? The Prime Minister of the nation. We would do anything, and everything. We will fly him to any state-of-the-art facility, pay out-of-pocket for the best doctors. Don’t underestimate our determination and ability. Nothing is beyond our grasp.” With the pressure in the room mounting, the man decided to unveil his secret. With two hot tears trickling out of his eyes, he asked the Prime Minister’s son, “Tell me, does your father have 60 grandchildren who can plea to Hashem to spare him? I do. I have 60 grandchildren who, from the day I fell ill, did not stop davening on my behalf. That propelled such an open neis. That is the only solution. If you have that, then you might be able to pull off the very same recovery that I experienced.”
The Prime Minister’s son now understood what the man was conveying. He had something over the Prime Minister of Israel. The Prime Minister’s son thought he had everything, but indeed he didn’t. The Prime Minister’s son was glad to learn something new. He thanked his host, wished him well, and left.
So ends the story.
Back in the doctor’s office, Reb Yisrael Dovid then said to the doctor, “Now let me tell you my father’s story. My father has 130 grandchildren and great-grandchildren who have done the very same. They didn’t let go of davening ever since we learned of his condition. Time and again, they besieged Hashem that my father would return to his full health — and speedily.
“Why are you then declaring ‘Nitzachnu’? This is not your victory; it’s a miracle straight from Above. Credit should be given to the Almighty. He is the victorious One.”
The doctor stood up on his feet and declared: “Nitzachta! — This is your victory. It was your strategy — tefillah, Torah, and mitzvos — that brought your father back to good health.” The doctor humbly shook his “mentor’s” hand, and they departed while wishing each other well.
Reb Yisrael Dovid lived another nine years, outdoing any predictions the doctors laid out for him. He left this world with many more grandchildren and great-grandchildren who all follow in his legendary mehalech ha’chaim.
Reb Yisrael Dovid’s son left the doctor was the most valuable piece of information he had ever learned, something that had been omitted from his medical books. He taught him about a Power greater than all medicine, something that each of us can access. We have the ability, at any time of day, to consult Hashem for any need. Whether you’re big or small, or the request is big or small, you can ask it of Him. Everyone can ask for anything, anywhere.
Take advantage.
It’s free!
