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Hundreds of chasidim stood in awe and love, watching
their Rebbe, Rebbe Avraham of Slonim, as he stood in front of the
Chanukah menorah. The Rebbe stared at the wicks, meditating and contemplating,
for an unknown reason not yet ready to kindle the Chanukah lights.
Minutes, which seemed like hours, passed and then the Rebbe
began chanting the blessings. He infused each word with kabbalistic intentions,
and each chasid drew inspiration from the holiness of the moment
according to his own level.
Suddenly, an impassioned cry tore through the hearts of all
those gathered there and awakened each person from his reverie.
"Help me! Save me!"
Everyone looked in the direction of the voice.
The Rebbe, his face aflame with the holiness of the moment, also
turned his head toward the back of the synagogue. There stood a women with her
hands outstretched, crying bitterly.  | | " The distraught woman was the wife of a wealthy and well-respected businessman...." | | |
It became clear that this woman was not one of the wives of the
chasidim gathered there. In fact, she had no connection to the Rebbe or
the Chasidic lifestyle. "Who is she?" people murmured.
It turned out that the distraught woman was the wife of a
wealthy and well-respected businessman who never in his life had entered the
Slonimer synagogue. He and his friends were among those who laughed at the
Chasidic lifestyle and customs.
For many years this couple had not been blessed with children.
When their son was finally born they were already much older. Their happiness
knew no bounds. He was always given the best of everything, though they did
their best not to spoil him.
On the eve of Chanukah the young boy fell ill. Different doctors
came to his bedside and cared for him with devotion, but they could not help
him. To everyone's horror his fever rose from day to day. This night, his
situation worsened. The boy had lost consciousness, and the doctors who were
standing around his bed turned their palms up in hopelessness. | | " 'Tell her not to worry,' the Rebbe said quietly...." | | |
The father of the child was pacing around the house in agony and
bitterness. But his mother could not stand seeing her son's suffering any longer
and suddenly darted out the door. She began walking quickly. Toward what or
where or whom she knew not. But her feet seemed to have a mind of their own, and
before she knew it she found herself in front of the Slonimer synagogue, just as
the Rebbe was preparing to kindle the Chanukah lights.
"Rebbe, help me," cried the woman in a voice that echoed
throughout the entire synagogue.
"Tell her not to worry," the Rebbe said quietly to someone. "She
should go and return home. She should ask her husband to add to her son's name
the name "Matitiyahu". And in the merit of that great tzadik - the father
of the Macabbees - who gave up his life for the Jewish people and the Holy One,
the sick child's life will be lengthened.
"Also tell her that when the child is fully recovered, his
father should bring a 'pidyon nefesh', a 'soul redemption' of 18 coins
(the numerical value of chai, which means 'life'), which will be given
for charity in the Holy Land."
The following day, at about the time when the Chanukah candles
were being lit, a new face was seen in the Slonimer synagogue. It was the father
of Matitiyahu, who happily brought to the Rebbe 18 rubles, the pidyon nefesh
for his son who was now fully recovered.
[Adapted from the rendition in "L'Chaim" #247.]
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