Erev Shabbos in the home of the A. Family. The clock indicated that Shabbos was fast approaching. The food was already placed on the hotplate, filling the house with the aromas of Shabbos kodesh.
In the dining room, the father of the family sat at the table, which had already been set the day before, singing the pesukim of Shir Hashirim, joined by his older sons. In the kitchen, the mother of house was busy with last minute preparations for Shabbos.
The little ones were running about, dressed in their best. The candles were ready. Although there were still two hours until the siren would sound for candle-lighting, the A. family long had a custom of being ready early for Shabbos.
Everything looked so tranquil, until suddenly, a shriek was heard from the dining room. The mother ran towards the sound. The sight that met her eyes shocked her: Laying on the gleaming floor was the father of the family, deep in a faint. The children stood around him with mounting alarm.
She recovered first and called emergency services. In moments, Hatzolah paramedics entered the house to start administrating resuscitation.
Meanwhile, the children gathered in one of the rooms to say Tehillim. As they offered pleas for their fathers' wellbeing, the father woke from his faint, looking around him as if not understanding what the ruckus was about.
"It seems to be dehydration," the paramedic decided. He did some quick tests that confirmed his diagnosis. The father was placed on the couch in the living room, and he nodded weakly. Indeed, he'd returned home from a long shopping trip earlier in the day, under the burning sun, and for some reason, he'd forgotten to drink enough.
"The situation requires you to be taken to the hospital," the paramedic declared as he inserted an intravenous line. "We have to check him out and make sure no internal damage was caused, chalilah." The A. family's home was just a few minutes from Shaare Zedek Hospital in Yerushalayim, and within moments, the father and one of his sons were at the entrance to the emergency room.
And hour and a half passed. The worried family members could not reach them to get an update about his condition. Shabbos had already begun. The mother lit candles, and then davened tearfully for her husband's welfare. Right after that, she planned to go to the hospital to see how her husband was doing.
She packed up a package of Shabbos food – salads, fish, challah, wine and more – to take to the hospital. One of the neighbors volunteered to watch the younger children and the mother was about to leave the house. But then, her young daughter came over with a cup in her hand. She asked her mother, "Ima, please answer amen to my brachah!"
Before we continue let us note that the A. family is very strict to answer amen with kavanah, not only after Birchos Hashachar, but to every brachah that is said by one of the family members. The little children at home know that every amen creates an angel, and now, when their young hearts were so afraid for their father, this was even more important to them.
The girl made a Shehakol, and her mother answered amen with kavanah. Then the little girl decided that her mother also had to say amen after her Borei Nefashos...Then her brother also decided that his mother should answer amen to his brachos as well. Although she was pressed for time, and she had a long walk ahead, the mother decided to wait patiently and answer amen to her children's brachos.
"A few more ‘amen' angels will surely add merits for my husband's recovery," she thought to herself. "And in general, it's an opportunity to show my children the value of every single amen," she thought to herself.
Precious minutes passed before she left the house, holding the bag of food and accompanied by the angels created by amen.
Even before leaving the building, she was met with another surprise: She saw her husband and her son walking in, on their way back from the hospital!
"When I came into the emergency room, I had lots of tests done," Rabbi A. told his wife. "The results were satisfactory baruch Hashem, and the doctors decided to release me. I'm weak, but baruch Hashem, I feel better than before."
"When we were on the way home," he continued, "we decided to take a more roundabout route, to spare us the steep hill on the regular route."
"Another siyata diShmaya of amen!" his wife exclaimed with a smile.
Rabbi A. was not surprised. In the time that had passed since they had begun to strengthen the answering of amen in their home, they had gotten used to seeing miracles.
"What's this time?" he asked. "Did you say amen for my refuah?"
"This time, I saw immediate results from the answering of amen," she replied. "When you told me that you came on an indirect route, I thought to myself that if I would not have been delayed to answer amen after the children who asked me to, I would have found myself making the long walk to the hospital, with this heavy bag, only to hear that baruch Hashem you had been released and that I had to walk right back where I came from, in the dark, alone, to my family that would be waiting impatiently to start the seudah. I was spared so much aggravation in the merit of staying back to answer amen properly."
Tiv Hakehillah Tetzaveh 5776
