Rabbi Shmuel's younger brother, Moshe Yehudah Leib, the ritual slaughterer of Tiberias, also cleaved with all his soul to the Rebbe of Avritch. He would often visit him in Tzfat. Out of love for the mitzvah, he did not travel by animal, but would walk the entire long way from Tiberias, up the mountain to Tzfat, on foot.
Every Yom Kippur eve, after intense work slaughtering the kaparot chickens the night before, Moshe Yehudah Leib would nonetheless maintain his custom and walk on foot from Tiberias to Tzfat to spend the holy day of Yom Kippur with his rebbe. One year, he lost his way and arrived in Tzfat in the late afternoon. When he entered Rabbi Avraham Dov’s house, the Rebbe was already finishing the final meal before the fast. "Moshe Leib!” he said to him. “Here, have some leftovers!" And he gave him a few spoonfuls of soup to swallow. Reb Moshe Leib later related that despite his severe exhaustion from his wanderings all that day without food, his physical and spiritual feeling on that Yom Kippur was more elevated than it had ever been before.
Reb Moshe Leib passed away in Tzfat in the year 5630 (1870), on the 13th of Tevet, which fell that year on Shabbat eve. Shortly after his passing, he came to his brother in a dream and told him: "When I ascended to the upper world immediately after my passing, Shabbat was approaching, and because of its holiness, they did not summon me to the heavenly court for that entire 24-hour period. At the end of Shabbat, a messenger from the heavenly court came to me and invited me to come before them to give an account of my deeds in this world. I said to the messenger: 'I never did anything without first consulting my Rebbe, Rabbi Avraham Dov of Avritch, and therefore I ask you to bring me to him - to seek his advice.' The messenger granted my request and brought me to him. I entered the Rebbe's presence while the messenger remained outside waiting for me, and I told him about my summons to the heavenly court as mentioned above, and he said to me: 'Stay here with me!' And since then, I have been in his presence..."
During the earthquake in Tzfat, Rabbi Avraham Dov was in his study hall, praying the afternoon prayer. When he reached the Tachanun part of the prayer, the tremors of the earthquake began. He immediately prostrated himself flat on the floor of the study hall, praying and pleading with God, and called for the worshippers to crowd around him. The tremors intensified, the main dome of the study hall and its walls collapsed, but the small area where the Rebbe and the worshippers had gathered remained unharmed and miraculously stood intact.
Agitated panic gripped the survivors, but Rabbi Avraham Dov did not allow the chaos and helplessness to overtake them. He declared: "This is not a time for weeping and eulogizing! We must quickly provide aid to those in need, and save what we can." Instantly, rescue teams were organized to clear the rubble from above the people buried beneath it. They hurriedly sent messengers to the nearby cities, to inform them of their terrible disaster and request their assistance. Together they labored to save lives and bury the dead. They worked day and night, but the task was beyond their capabilities and continued for many months.
Some of the chasidim claimed that Tzfat had no future, and demanded to follow the path of the non-chasidic Jews and abandon the city. This was the third earthquake to destroy Tzfat that century. In 1837, the city was destroyed twice by earthquakes. But the Rebbe exerted the full weight of his influence and authority to thwart this hasty counsel. He assured them that this blow would not visit them again in the future, basing this promise on the Talmudic statement: "Rabbi Yosi ben Kisma's students asked him: When will the son of David (Mashiach) come? He said to them: When this gate falls and is rebuilt, and falls and is rebuilt, and falls a third time." Expounding on these wondrous words, he explained that the word "gate" has the same numerical value as "Tzfat", and the letters of the word "gate," when read in reverse order, spell the word for "earthquake". In other words, "the gate", Tzfat, will fall due to earthquake only three times, and no more, until the coming of Mashiach.
This solemn promise worked wonders: it breathed new life into the dry bones, magically dispelled the despair that had enveloped them, and encouraged them to begin the work of reconstruction with faith and confidence in their future. Indeed, when the traveler Robinson visited Tzfat in the year after the earthquake, the reconstruction was already in full force, and he writes: "In the Jewish quarter, many houses have been rebuilt and signs of life have begun to reappear much more than could be expected given the terrible disaster.”
The recurring theme in the stories about the "Bat Ayin" is the love and veneration with which the members of the Tzfat community regarded him. Particularly striking is the fact that these sentiments were born out of the tzaddik's exceptional self-sacrifice—he passed away without sons but invested his devotion and love in his chasidim and the Torah teachings he wrote. Just as in the first story, he saved his chasid from the heavenly court, so too in the second story, he saved his students from the earthquake and the panic that followed.
Rabbi Avraham Dov’s self-sacrifice continued even after the earthquake: he confronted the pogroms against the Jews (in 1838, for example, the tzaddik was captured by Druze assailants and miraculously escaped), and he suffered through plagues and poverty, as well. In all these cases, he supported the members of the community materially and spiritually, sent requests for aid, and encouraged the survivors. Even his own passing is accompanied by such a story: in the year 5601 (1841), a plague broke out in Tzfat and claimed many victims. Rabbi Avraham Dov promised that he would be the final victim of the plague. And indeed, on the 12th of Kislev 5601 (1841), the tzaddik departed from this world due to his illness, and the plague ended.
