We were left floundering when the only mikvah in town closed. The next nearest mikvah was over four hours away. In bad weather, it meant an all-day affair, or sometimes even longer! Although we didn’t have the funds to build a mikvah, we knew it was of critical importance. With many miracles from Hashem, the money came together slowly, and we started construction.
It was Sukkos, and my father was in the sukkah, farbrenging with Leiby*. We’d known Leiby for a while. He was one of the many tourists who, during the yeshiva break, flocked to Maine for the breathtaking scenery and national parks. My father noticed that Leiby was taking more than his fair share of lechaims, and was downing them more with desperation than celebration. After most of the crowd had cleared, he sat beside Leiby and asked him what was wrong.
Leiby hung his head and tears dripped down his face. He told my father how his life was falling apart. Although he was a young man, he’d already suffered through two divorces.
My father tried to console him. “We’re in the middle of building our mikvah now,” he told Leiby. “The zechus of partaking in such a special mitzvah will surely bring bracha into your life! Even if you can’t help financially, maybe you can help us find contractors or supplies.”
Leiby eagerly agreed. A few weeks later, he managed to get some crucial materials donated to the cause, and even drove up to install them himself!
Since this was during Covid, other materials we’d ordered took a while to come, and Leiby promised to return when they arrived to install them as well. He was still struggling to find a shidduch, and my father encouraged him to have emunah and bitachon.
Over the next few months, he kept in touch with my father. A faint tinge of hope filled his voice as he shared that he’d met someone, and their shidduch was progressing nicely. Unfortunately, since she came from a different Chassidus, Leiby’s mother was adamantly against the match.
After a few months, the light fixtures arrived, and Leiby fulfilled his promise to install them personally. As he tightened the final screws, his mother called to tell him she’d changed her mind, and finally gave approval for the shidduch.
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Almost everything for the mikvah was ready. All we needed was rainfall to fill the tank. We watched the skies hopefully, but it was a while before rain fell. The day the mikvah gathered the proper amount of water was the day Leiby got engaged.
There were still a couple of fixtures that hadn’t arrived, and again, Leiby promised to take care of them personally. He held an afruf in our Chabad house, inviting his friends to join. While he was here, he took the opportunity to finish the mikvah’s final touches. As he was wrapping up, he received a call from a childhood friend’s father. The father told him his son still held a grudge against Leiby for the way he’d treated him back in elementary school.
“I know you’ve had trouble with shidduchim,” the father said. “Perhaps my son’s resentment was the reason why. I know you’re getting married soon, and I thought I’d call so you can ask my son forgiveness, and march to your chuppah with a clean conscience.”
With every step of the mikvah completion, Leiby’s load was lightened.
Meilich* couldn’t donate much, but he wanted to participate in the mikvah anyhow. He gave us his credit card information, but, for one reason or another, we never charged his card.
“Charge it!” he begged us.
We meant to; but it kept slipping our minds.
Finally, while placing a purchase, we remembered his card and put the charge through. An hour later, he called with good news.
“Mazal tov! My wife just had a baby boy!” He shared that, although she usually had difficult labors, this one went smoothly and easily. “I have no doubt it’s thanks to my participation in the mikvah’s construction!” he said.
*Names changed to protect privacy
