IDO TO THE RESCUE

A wondrous story of Divine Providence involving a series of well-timed meetings, enabling the shluchim of the Rebbe MH”M in the North Tel Aviv neighborhood of Ne’ot Afeka to save a Jewish girl from the depths of spiritual destruction.

It has already been a month since the small Chabad community in the North Tel Aviv neighborhoods of Ne’ot Afeka and Tzahala, headed by the shliach Rabbi Ido Rahav, was deeply stirred by the remarkable and moving story of Divine Providence that occurred on Shabbos, Hey Teves. “This was the finger of G-d,” community members declared, describing the incredible sequence of events that took place.

The central character in our story is a young girl, a former member of Yerushalayim’s ultra-Orthodox Mea Sh’arim community, who had left the path of Torah and mitzvos. She became involved in a relationship with a smuggler of illegal imports. He was an African Gentile living in one of the unsafe neighborhoods in south Tel Aviv.

“There wasn’t a dry eye among the large number of participants at the newborn baby’s bris mila ceremony. Our community includes members of the military and businessmen who have gone through a thing or two in their lifetimes,” said the shliach, Rabbi Rahav. Throughout the years of his shlichus and his many activities, he had never encountered such a story. “This is a story of Divine Providence taken straight out of the pages of the holy Baal Shem Tov, the type that we generally read about in s’farim.”

GIVING A LIFT TO TEL AVIV

We heard this thrilling story from Rabbi Rahav after he finished giving over a chassidus class for his extended community, one of many that he teaches during the week.

“It all started on a Friday about a month ago,” said Rabbi Rahav, as he began his account with emotion clearly evident in his voice. “One of our supporters had invited me to celebrate his son’s Bar Mitzvah at the Western Wall. I had been quite busy that day and I left Tel Aviv at a relatively late hour.

“Heading back toward Tel Aviv, I got stuck in some lengthy traffic jams, and as a result, I only got back into town at around a quarter to four in the afternoon and headed straight to the mikveh to get ready for Shabbos. I did this as quickly as possible, aware of the fact that Shabbos was due to begin very soon. As I left the mikveh, I glanced at my cell phone and noticed that my friend returning from Yerushalayim had tried several times to reach me. When I got back to him, he had a most interesting story to tell me.

“While the family was at the Kosel, they got directions from a young ultra-Orthodox man whom they happened to meet. They eventually parted from one another, and the extended family headed for the parking lot of Teddy Stadium, where they had all left their cars when they arrived in Yerushalayim for the Bar Mitzvah.

“The municipal bus brought them to the location, and soon everyone said goodbye to one another and began their respective trips home. My friend got into the family jeep and started the journey towards Tel Aviv.

“As he passed by one of the intersections within the Yerushalayim city limits, he noticed the young man who he had met at the Kosel, trying to hitch a ride. He stopped his car and gladly offered to take him straight to his house. The two began a lively discussion during which the young man said that he lived in Mea Sh’arim. When my friend the driver told him that he was going home to Tel Aviv, the young man asked if he could help him with a family matter.

“‘I have a sister in Tel Aviv with whom we have had no contact for the past year,’” the bachur said. “‘She has veered off the path of Torah and mitzvos, and has gotten involved with a foreign worker from Africa living in the heart of south Tel Aviv, where she is r”l wasting her life away with him. I recently got in touch with her, and at the end of our conversation, she said that she was prepared to spend a Shabbos meal with a religious family in Tel Aviv. Do you know such a family?’” he asked.

“‘Of course,’” my friend said. “‘My rabbi is a shliach of the Lubavitcher Rebbe.’” The young man gave him his sister’s phone number, and my friend quickly called me to ask if we could host this girl in our home for Shabbos. ‘With pleasure,’ I replied.

“When I got back home from the mikveh, I saw my friend arriving, followed by a taxi with a young female passenger in a very advanced state of pregnancy. My wife warmly and very happily welcomed her into our home. This is exactly what our shlichus is all about. Her family apparently didn’t even know that she was expecting and about to give birth any day.

“I quickly went to shul to daven Kabbalas Shabbos, while my wife respectfully attended to our guest. When I returned home from shul, the young woman was already gone. She had gone into labor, and my wife had ordered a taxi to take her to Ichilov Hospital.

“It turned out that a few minutes before I came home, she went into labor. On Motzaei Shabbos, we were informed that she had given birth the night before to a baby boy.

“On Monday, my friend and I went to the hospital to visit her. We could see right away that she was very depressed. No one from her family was in contact with her, and she was all alone. She had no one to turn to; we had to help her.

“One of the first questions I asked her was: ‘What about the bris?’ It was clear that she hadn’t given much consideration to the subject. At this low point in her life, she was concerned with nothing more than her own survival. She told me that since she has no money and doesn’t even know a mohel in Tel Aviv or anywhere else in the central part of the country, she was thinking about not having the child circumcised at all…

“I was shocked to hear such indifference. I promised to get back to her as soon as possible. I immediately contacted a mohel in B’nei Brak, who agreed to walk over to our shul the following Shabbos. I organized a seuda; I spoke with the shul members, in addition with those people who don’t daven regularly in our minyanim. After they heard the story, they all promised to come and participate in the simcha. I called the young woman, told her that we had found a mohel, and everything would be arranged for a beautiful and kosher bris ceremony.

“On Erev Shabbos, she arrived with the baby at a special apartment that we had prepared for her near the synagogue. With the young woman’s consent, we notified her mother about the birth of her new grandson, and she arrived together with her other daughter and her son, who had made the first contact between us.”

WHAT WILL 
WE CALL THE BABY?

“On Erev Shabbos, the atmosphere was most joyful. The participants in the Friday night minyan spoke among themselves about the circumstances leading to the bris that would take place the following day. They were also outraged over what was happening right under the nose of the Jewish state, and how it could even affect those raised in Torah observant homes. Everyone agreed that something must be done to prevent such incidents in the future.

“When we asked the mother what name to give the child, it turned out that she hadn’t given much thought to it. We suggested the name Menachem Mendel and she gladly agreed.

“After the bris mila ceremony had concluded, everyone stayed for the seudas mitzvah. Seated at the head table along with myself and the mohel were her brother, who had made the initial contact, and my friend who first heard the story about his sister. We felt like the mechutanim (in-laws) at a wedding. Also in attendance were her sister and her mother, the baby’s grandmother.

“The baby’s uncle asked to say a few words, and the joyous expression on his face was undisguised. He brought everyone’s attention to the shul’s memorial wall, most of which was dedicated to Jews killed in the Holocaust or their loved ones who had founded the shul. In a central location on the wall, there appeared a dedication with the name Menachem Mendel, the only one whose yahrtzait was on, of all days, Hey Teves, the date when the bris had taken place.

“Above this dedication, there appeared another marker: ‘In memory of my sister Miriam, my wife Tova, and my brother Shimon.’ The baby’s mother was named Miriam Tova, and the brother who made the connection between us and her sister was named Shimon. The Divine Providence was simply incredible.”

EVEN MORE DIVINE PROVIDENCE

The few weeks that have elapsed since the story took place have not diminished Rabbi Rahav’s feeling of exhilaration. “Just think about it!” he said, as he sharpened the message of Divine Providence. “How realistic is it that my friend would meet the person who had helped him at the Kosel, waiting at an intersection in Yerushalayim for a ride home, and then the young man would choose to tell him about his sister? Yet, despite the fact that it was Erev Shabbos and he was exhausted from everything connected with his son’s Bar Mitzvah, he made the extra effort to get in touch with her, then with me, and the young woman gave birth that night! It’s quite clear that Heaven looked for someone to make certain that this new Jewish soul would come into the world and have a proper bris mila, while the afflicted soul of his mother who had lost her way would eventually, with G-d’s help, return home as well.”

In fact, on that Sunday, the day after the bris, the community got together on behalf of the young destitute mother. They bought a large quantity of clothes for the baby, along with diapers, a carriage, and a beautiful little crib.

Thirty days after the birth, the Chabad House held a Pidyon HaBen ceremony for the child with one of the community’s prominent members, businessman Ezra Gad HaKohen.

“We are continually in touch with the young mother, and we hope to hear good news regarding her return to a proper life filled with Yiddishkait very soon.”

Following that Shabbos, after their first personal encounter with the tragedy of assimilation and the involvement between Jewish girls and foreign workers, Rabbi Rahav and the members of his community decided to establish a “cozy corner” for young Jewish women in distress experiencing similar stories. Regrettably, such cases occur far more often than one can imagine.

FLASH: THE HAPPY ENDING

By a further case of Divine Providence, this story remained in Beis Moshiach’s inbox for about three weeks until it was finally publicized.

Then, just before the Hebrew text was about to go to print, the shliach Rabbi Ido Rahav called the magazine’s editorial offices and told us in a voice filled with emotion that the baby’s mother had just informed him that she had returned to her parents’ home in Mea Sh’arim and to a life of Torah and mitzvos.