It states (16:6), מפניה ותברח שרה ותענה, "Sarah harrassed Hagar, and she fled from her." The Ramban writes, "The affliction that our mother caused Hagar was a sin, and it was Avraham's sin, too, because he allowed Sarah to harass Hagar. Hashem heard Hagar's pain and gave her a wild son [Yishmael] to afflict Avraham and Sarah's descendants in so many ways."
Until today, we suffer from Yishmael's descendants, and as it appears from the Ramban, the origin of this suffering can be traced back to when Sarah tormented Hagar. We can't understand the ways of the holy avos and imahos, but we learn from this to be cautious to follow the path of chesed and to avoid harming any human being. Unfortunately, for this one error, we suffer until today.
Reb Yeshaya Weisberg Shlita from Beitar told the following personal story in public:
A few years ago, I fell into very deep debt, and that wasn't my only problem. I also had two older children who weren't finding their shidduchim, and several other struggles and challenges. I felt the midas hadin on me, and I didn't know why.
My friends advised me to go to America to collect money, to alleviate my financial burden. One friend, a Stoliner chassid, told me that if I'm already going to America, I should make a stopover in Frankfurt, Germany, to visit the kever of Reb Yisrael Frankfurter (of Stolin) zt'l, as many people merited salvation by davening at this holy kever.
I bought a ticket for a connecting flight from Eretz Yisrael to Germany, with a few hours layover before continuing to New York. My friend ordered a driver for me; someone who knows where Reb Yisrael Frankfurter's kever is located, so when I arrive in Frankfurt Germany, this taxi driver will drive me straight to the kever.
I disembarked in Frankfurt, but I didn't know where I should go. Thousands of people were streaming in all directions, and I couldn't ask anyone, as I don't speak German or English. So, I followed where the majority of people were headed, until I found myself on the sidewalk outside the airport.
Now I had to find the driver that was arranged for me. I called, but the call didn't go through. What do I do now? Taxis were lined up, but I didn't know how to communicate with them. I approached the first cab. It was an Arab. I don't speak Arabic. So I went to the next cab, and amazingly, this taxi driver was a Yid from Eretz Yisrael and spoke fluent Hebrew. He told me that he knows where Reb Yisrael Frankfurter is buried and could take me there.
I was shocked at my good fortune. Hashem was helping me. The miracle wasn't lost on the taxi driver either. As we rode to my destination, he told me that there are only a handful of Israeli taxi drivers in Frankfurt, and the chances of me finding one was almost impossible. Furthermore, he told me that he doesn't usually work in the airport. "But today, by hashgachah pratis, I came here..."
We both saw Hashem's hand, and this roused the taxi driver to teshuvah. He told me that he doesn't keep any mitzvos in Germany, and when he lived in Eretz Yisrael, he was more religious. He spoke to me about this for a long time. May Hashem help him do a teshuvah sheleimah.
We arrived at the kever, and I was able to daven there for forty-five minutes. I davened for parnassah, to pay off my debts, for shidduchim for my two older children, and primarily, I davened that Hashem reveal to me why I am being punished so that I can rectify my ways. When I finished my tefillos, I sang ה"י אכסוף, the renowned holy, Stolin-Karlin nigun, and I returned to the taxi that was waiting for me.
The taxi driver brought me back to the airport, and he explained where I needed to go to catch my flight.
I have relatives in Monroe, New York, and I stayed in their home. On my first morning in America, I went to a large Satmar beis medresh to daven Shacharis, and there I met someone who looked very familiar.
Thirty years earlier, in yeshiva, I had a classmate who had a speech impediment. I used to mock him. My friends laughed when I copied the way he spoke, but I'm sure it tore that poor boy's heart. Could it be that this is the same person? Years ago, I asked him mechilah, but he refused to forgive me. I forgot about the entire episode, but now that I saw him, everything came back.
Thirty years is a long time, and I wanted to make sure it was the same person. He was collecting for hachnasas kallah, and I approached him to hear his speech better. But this man spoke fluently. There wasn't any sign of a speech impediment. I asked him, "Do you perhaps have a brother..."
"No, I recognize you. It's me, the same boy as back in yeshiva. You're probably wondering how I'm able to speak so well. It's because I went to many professionals. Now I can speak regularly. It's even possible that the shame you caused me encouraged me to put in a lot of effort until I could speak well. Nevertheless, I don't forgive you. I still feel the shame in my heart and all of my limbs. I'm sorry. I can't forgive you."
I took three hundred dollars out of my pocket and gave it to him, and I pleaded with him to forgive me. He told me that he forgives me.
It seems that this was the sin blocking my shefa, because everything improved after I got his forgiveness. That day, I met a relative in Monroe (whom I'd never met before), and he helped me raise a lot of money. It was evident that the forgiveness I received opened up the heavens for me.
There was still a long way to go until my debts were paid off, but things were improving. I returned to Eretz Yisrael filled with hope. I felt in my bones that now my situation would improve. The hope gave me the courage to attempt once again to end my financial struggles. So, after a few weeks in Eretz Yisrael, I returned to America.
This time I stayed with relatives in Williamsburg. In the Zlotchever beis medresh, I met a very special yungerman named Reb Yoel. He listened attentively as I told him about my financial hardships, and he, together with a few of his friends, went all out to help me. They spent nights and days raising money for me (and they continue to help me until today.)
My debts weren't paid up yet, but we were getting there. Some months later, I was in Eretz Yisrael, and I received a call from Reb Yoel. His oldest child was getting married, and he wanted to buy me a ticket, so I can come to the chasunah.
I told him that I'd be happy to participate in his simcha after all that he did for me. But I told him that I needed to sleep in an apartment by myself, not together with a group of meshulachim. I explained to him that I snore loudly, and people can't sleep in the same room as me.
I came to America and followed directions to the address Yoel arranged for me, but I discovered that I wouldn't be there alone. There were many people in the apartment; they were Reb Yoel's guests for the chasunah. It was too late at night to seek another place to stay, so I slept there and hoped for the best.
In the morning, with trepidation, I asked someone in my room how he slept. He replied, "There was a lot of thunder in the room, but baruch Hashem, I was able to fall asleep." I can't express to you how I felt when he said that. It was so embarrassing.
The following night, I woke up in middle of the night and heard snoring sounds that sounded exactly like me! Was I dreaming and hearing myself? I looked in the next room. One of the guests was mocking me! Apparently, he did this because I was disturbing his sleep.
