By Havdalah
One day, Reb Shraga Faitel Levin was learning with Reb Shmuel Berhzin, the local shochet, in the shul (synagogue) of Nevel, when the shochet's son suddenly arrived, searching for his father. Reb Shmuel's son was a wealthy butcher who lived in a different town.
"I'm just passing through," his son explained. "The Rebbe Rashab (Rabbi Sholom Dovber, the fifth Chabad Rebbe) is close by at his place of vacation and I am on my way to visit him."
"Wonderful!" exclaimed Reb Shmuel. "I wish I could also go!"
His son did not miss a beat. "I will buy you a ticket," he said.
Reb Faitel promptly seized the opportunity to express his overwhelming desire to see the Rebbe, and to his pleasant surprise, the young man bought him a ticket as well. The group set out on their journey.
The Rebbe Rashab was staying at a resort location not far from the Black Sea. The trio reached the closest port on Friday morning. It was a few-mile walk to the village where the Rebbe was staying, with other small villages in between.
Before they began their walk, they decided to immerse in the Black Sea. Reb Faitel and the shochet immediately emerged from the water, but the son continued to swim around for quite a while. When he finished swimming, he rejoined the others to walk to the Rebbe's home.
Suddenly, the son dropped to the ground and lay there motionless. All his father's efforts to arouse him were to no avail; the young man was unconscious. Reb Faitel helped the distraught father carry his son to the nearest Jewish home, and as the son lay immobile in bed, their hosts ran out to fetch the closest doctor.
When the doctor finally arrived, he examined the patient. "I can't understand what happened," the father explained. "We were just swimming in the Black Sea and my son was healthy. When we continued walking, he collapsed to the ground, and he's been lying like that ever since."
The doctor looked at them in astonishment. "The Black Sea?" he repeated. "You swam in that water?"
"We didn't stay too long," the shochet said. "My son was there longer than us. He probably swam for a few minutes."
"A few minutes!" the doctor shook his head in dismay. "I'm sorry, but there is little I can do. That water is contaminated and prolonged contact has always proved fatal. Your son is in a coma, far beyond human help!"
The doctor packed his bag, and ignoring their protests, headed out the door. The shochet turned to Reb Faitel in desperation. "Only the Rebbe can help us," he said. "We must go straight to him!"
They left the invalid in the house and continued walking to the resort, arriving at the Rebbe Rashab's residence on Friday night at midnight. When they arrived, the shochet immediately asked the assistant of the Rebbe Rashab to grant him a private audience, but he was refused.
"The Rebbe is not seeing anyone now," explained the assistant. "However, if you really must speak with the Rebbe, wait outside his room, because the Rebbe always goes from one room to the next between three and four in the morning. Then you will be able to ask him whatever you want."
The shochet and Reb Faitel waited outside the Rebbe's room for hours. Suddenly, at 3:30 a.m., the door opened and the Rebbe came out.
"What do you want?" the Rebbe asked.
Reb Shmuel burst into tears and quickly related what had occurred. When he finished, the Rebbe made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "He will be here for Havdala (the ceremony marking the end of Shabbat on Saturday night)," he said. With that, the Rebbe went to a different room.
The pair looked at one another in amazement: Reb Shmuel's son was stretched out in bed, practically lifeless, and yet the Rebbe expected him to walk five miles to the resort in time for Havdala! However, being true Chasidim, they did not question the Rebbe's words. In fact, the shochet was so overjoyed by the Rebbe's words that he decided to stay there until after Shabbat, for if the Rebbe promised his son would recuperate, then returning to the village would be a futile waste of time.
A little while later, back in the village, the young man suddenly awoke to find strangers looking at him. "What am I doing here?" he said. "Where is my father?" The son tried to get up, but fell back, exhausted by the effort.
"Watch yourself!" said the woman of the house. "You are very ill and the doctor said you will die soon! Don't move or you might make it worse!"
The family tried all they could to get him to stay in bed, but he resisted. "What do you mean?" he said indignantly. "I came here to see the Rebbe, not to stay in bed!"
Gradually, he mustered enough strength to sit up. Then he stood up and walked around. After eating something, he left the house, against the strong exhortations of his hosts to remain and gather his strength. When he arrived at the house of the Rebbe Rashab, he opened the door to find the Rebbe standing at the table with the cup of wine in his hand, just ready to begin Havdala. He had arrived in time.
Decades later, one of Reb Faitel's sons related this story to his children. "This story," he observed, "illustrates the incredible faith of the Chasidim. This man had 16 left his son on a deathbed with the doctor saying there was no hope for him, yet when the Rebbe said he would be fine, the Chasid did not return to check to see if the son had returned to heath. The Rebbe had spoken; his word was enough!"
by E. Lesches, reprinted from Beis Moshiach Magazine
