Reb Mordechai Liepler's son fell seriously ill and the doctors were not encouraging. "A virus appears to have infected his bone marrow and his bones are withering away," they diagnosed. "We know of no cure."
Reb Mordechai immediately dispatched a letter to the Mittler Rebbe explaining the desperate situation. He calculated that it would take five days for the letter to get to Lubavitch, and five days for the Rebbe's answer to return. Thus, he expected to receive an answer in ten days.
Ten days were up and Reb Mordechai stood outside waiting impatiently for the postman.
"Sorry, nothing for you today," called the postman as he passed by, shaking his head. Reb Mordechai met with the same disappointment on the following day as well.
However, on the third day, the postman had some news. "Yes, I have a letter for you, but I am in a terrible rush today and don't have time to look for it," he called hurrying on.
Reb Mordechai ran after him, pulled at his bag and searched frantically for the long-awaited letter.
"What's your rush today?" he asked as he fumbled through the envelopes.
"One of the Czar's relatives living in our district fell ill and a royal physician was summoned all the way from Austria. Today, he is scheduled to return to Vienna and it is my duty to arrange a carriage for his journey," explained the postman.
Just then, Reb Mordechai found the letter and opened it quickly as the postman busied himself straightening out his bag.
"I received your letter," the note from the Mittler Rebbe stated. "I see that help will come to you from far and near." Added on the bottom of the letter was a note of advice. "Do not stint on money."
The information I just received from the postman may be that very assistance the Rebbe foresaw, thought Reb Mordechai. "Where is that doctor now?" he asked the postman.
Upon receiving the address, Reb Mordechai set out immediately towards the house. Evidently, he was not the only one who had heard of the doctor's arrival. Many people were standing on line in the courtyard hoping to be allowed a consultation.
Being a prominent figure, Reb Mordechai was pushed through the crowd and managed to gain access to the doctor. Describing his son's severe condition, Reb Mordechai begged the doctor to treat him.
"I'm sorry, my time is very limited and I must be on my way back to Vienna," came the curt reply.
Reb Mordechai recalled the Rebbe's advice. "I will pay you 1,000 rubles for your trouble," he offered. This sum of money persuaded the doctor to delay his departure, and he accompanied Reb Mordechai to his home.
"Your son has an infection which has spread to his bone marrow. Though this disease is considered incurable here in Russia, a new medicine has recently been developed in Austria. I may by chance have a sample in the case of medication I brought along with me. If I do, summon a local doctor and I will instruct him regarding its application."
Sure enough, the medicine was found and in due time, Reb Mordechai's son recovered. Thus, the Rebbe's words proved exact. Help came "from near and from afar." The doctor arrived "from afar." The appropriate medication was found in his case, "from near," and were it not for the advice not to spare money, the doctor would not have come.
