My Rebbe shlit”a expressed his desire that we, his chassidim, go to visit families who lost their loved ones during the terrible massacres of Simchas Torah, for nichum aveilim. I went to the homes of mourners who were sitting shivah in a yishuv near Ashdod. They lost a daughter, a son-in-law and three grandchildren from Kfar Aza. The pain is great and the gaping loss cries out.
“They were with us for the first days of Sukkos,” the bereft father related, “our daughter, son-in-law, and grandchildren. We were planning to get together again on Simchas Torah in their home.”
“Really?” I responded in astonishment. “This means you were saved from the massacre. Why didn’t you go? How were you saved from death?”
“Yes, yes, we were saved from death,” the father responded thoughtfully. “Being so busy with mourning, we haven’t noticed the chessed that Hashem did with us. We were supposed to be in their home and hide together with them in their sealed room.”
My eyes continued asking, and he went on. “We are extremely makpid on kashrus. The children, unfortunately, were much less makpid, and so when we go to them, my wife cooks all the meals. Since on Simchas Torah the mechutanim were also supposed to be coming, along with other guests from other yishuvim, my wife was supposed to cook thirty portions for each meal. On Hoshana Rabbah she said, ‘I don’t have the strength to cook so much. I can’t manage it now. I think we shouldn’t go to the kids in Kfar Aza.’ We wouldn’t have gone to them and eaten their food. We keep our standards of kashrus outside the home as well.
She called my daughter and told her, ‘I don’t feel up to cooking so much now. We’ll come another time.’” Here the father’s voice broke, knowing that there would never be another opportunity to visit.
I was amazed. Maintaining their standards of kashrus saved these parents from certain death.
