agitated. He gave me a second dollar, said “this is for the children,” and I was on my way again.
I told my wife what had happened, and we hoped that it was all a good sign. Sure enough, my wife got pregnant that same year, and gave birth to our son, Yonasan Asher.
Yoni was born prematurely, however, so the hospital had to keep him in the NICU. Then it became apparent that he had some trouble eating — there was a problem with his esophagus, so that when he swallowed, the milk might go into his trachea, but it wouldn’t go all the way down into his stomach. Eventually, they had to put a tube through his nose, and feed him that way.
The doctors kept trying all sorts of methods to get his esophagus to work, and he ended up spending a month or so in the hospital. Finally, they said to my wife, “Look Mrs. Goldstein, we can’t keep him here anymore.” They explained that they would make a little slit by his stomach and put in a funnel type of instrument with a cap that could be flipped open. “We’ll send a therapist over to help get it working, and then you’ll feed him that way.”
Becky made a ruckus. “No. I’m not taking a sick baby out of this hospital, and that’s that!” she screamed. “He’s going to stay here until he gets well.”
Then she turned to me. “Jay, I want you to go back to the Rebbe and tell him what’s happening.”
When my father heard that I was returning to the Rebbe the next Sunday, he gave me a picture of Yoni in the NICU, suggesting I show it to the Rebbe.
I waited on line again, and then it was my turn. “I don’t know if you remember me,” I began, “but I was here a while back asking for a child. You gave me a bracha and thank you — Becky had a boy. But, there’s a problem. He was born prematurely and now he’s sick.”
I showed the picture of Yoni to the Rebbe. Without saying anything, he looked at the picture, and looked at me. Then he looked at the picture again, then at me, and finally he gave me a blessing.
“Thank you,” I said.
The very next morning, I went back to the hospital to see how my son and wife were doing. As I arrived, I saw that my son’s bassinet was surrounded by doctors, talking among themselves. Oh boy, now what? I said to myself nervously. I figured there was another emergency. “What’s the problem?” I asked one of the doctors.
“No, Mr. Goldstein, there’s no problem here. It’s just that your son has suddenly started swallowing. Everything’s working now — you can take him home.”
“The thing is,” he continued, “we’re wondering why he suddenly started swallowing. So we’re just exchanging notes, trying to figure it out.”
Of course, I knew what the answer was. But what am I going to do — tell the doctors about the Rebbe’s blessing? They would think I’m nuts.
But when we walked out of the hospital, I remembered how the Rebbe gave me that second dollar before Yoni was born. Perhaps that was because he spotted something unique in the son that we would have, maybe that he would need a little extra help, or that he was going to be a special person.
Today, my son is living in Florida with his wife and children. And I’m sure that the Rebbe’s blessing is the reason he is around.
I ended up going back to the Rebbe a few more times, and I continue to go to the Rebbe’s resting place today, to pray, to say some Tehillim, and to ask for a little help with anything troubling me.
After running a bookbinding business for twenty-two years, Mr. Jay Goldstein became a New York City public school teacher in the year 2000. His wife, Rebecca, passed away in November 2022, and he shared this story in her memory during his January 2023 interview.
