LAURIE’S STORY

PART I

There is a good feeling that lingers with me till today, 17 years later, every time I remember my conversation with R’ Moshe Stern.

There are people who are fascinating to listen to. If you are standing, you remain standing until the end of the conversation; if you are sitting, you are glued to your place. That’s the way it goes.

R’ Moshe Stern used to live in Ft. Lauderdale. In his later years, he lived in Eretz Yisroel. He was a special person with a warm heart and a Chassidic soul. I remember that when I asked him on the phone to tell me a story about the Rebbe, he asked me to wait a minute. “If I’m going to speak about the holy Rebbe, then I want to wash my hands first.”

That’s when I knew that I was speaking to a Chassid.

PART II

I was born in Eretz Yisroel. Before I married my wife Tzippora, a sixth-generation descendant of Rebbetzin Menucha Rochel, I went to the United States, since my parents were living there at the time on a mission from the Israeli government.

In 1969, I served as the principal of a religious Jewish school in Plainfield, New Jersey. About 350 children attended the school and I enjoyed my job very much. I didn’t work in the formal style of a principal who is found mostly in his office; rather, I enjoyed meeting the children in the hallways, classrooms, and lunchroom and talking to them. That is how I gained their trust. I got to know them well, and we got along, far better than the usual relationship that a principal has with his students.

I did many things with them. One of the important projects I did was to host students in my home for Shabbos. Every week, I chose a few students and we would spend Shabbos together, sing Chabad niggunim at the table, and tell stories of tzaddikim.

The students vied to be chosen to be my guest. It was a privilege to be picked. Not only they, but I too greatly enjoyed having them.

As I said, I got to know the children well. One day, I made a note for myself to remember and call the parents of a little girl named Laurie. Whenever I saw her in school, it seemed to me that her blond hair was falling out at an alarming rate. When I said this to her parents, they were surprised. They hadn’t noticed, but they promised to take her to a doctor and check it out.

Two days later the parents appeared in my office, agitated and shell-shocked. After extensive testing, the doctor told them the shocking news. Laurie had leukemia and it was at a late stage. I felt their pain. When Laurie came back to school she was wearing a kerchief because almost all her hair had fallen out. Soon after she stopped coming altogether.

Laurie was treated for a long time at various hospitals and time after time, her parents were told by the doctors: if you had come earlier, we could have treated her more effectively; now, it’s too late.

The parents begged the doctors to do a bone marrow transplant, but the doctors refused, claiming it was pointless in her condition and it would not be successful. The parents came to my office and cried. The father put his face in his hands and sobbed. “I am going to bury Laurie!” her mother wailed. “Bury her! Rabbi Stern, the doctors give us no hope. What do you suggest we do?”

I looked at them compassionately. I had an idea, but I didn’t know how they would take it. They weren’t religious and the fact that Laurie was in our school was thanks to their knowing that a religious education is the best, and not necessarily because of any ideology on their part.

“I have an idea for you,” I said quietly, “an idea that you did not think of until now. I hope you will consider it seriously.”

They looked at me in astonishment and the father asked, “That we didn’t think of? We have been to everyone, literally everyone, doctors, homeopaths …”

I put my hand on his shoulder and said, “I have something else in mind, Mr. Lorenstein.” They continued looking at me in surprise and then I said, “You should ask for a blessing from the Lubavitcher Rebbe.”

They looked at me as though I was crazy. “A blessing from a rabbi? He should heal Laurie? Have you lost your mind?”

I felt myself being overcome with pain, frustration, and some annoyance too. I explained that a blessing from a tzaddik definitely can help where medicine fails, but they maintained: How would a blessing help?

In my anguish, I raised my voice and said, “You are telling me you are going to bury Laurie. Now I’ve given you some hope and you refuse it?!”

They were quiet for a moment and I felt bad for raising my voice. I saw shame in their eyes and I spoke more gently. “The Rebbe loves everyone and works on behalf of every son and daughter of the Jewish people. He is a holy man. Let him pray for Laurie.”

After a brief discussion between themselves, they agreed to ask for a blessing from the Rebbe for Laurie. That was the first obstacle I overcame.

PART III

I called R’ Chadakov and told him the situation. After a very short time, while the parents were still in my office, he called me back and read the Rebbe’s answer: Tell the parents three things: 1) light Shabbos candles, 2) be particular about the laws of family purity, 3) make kiddush.

Oy, I thought. Not this … I couldn’t find what to say to the parents who were waiting anxiously for their daughter’s salvation. I apologized to them and quickly left the room to call Rabbi Rokeach who was a rav in one of the shuls in the city.

After a brief explanation about the girl’s condition, I told him my problem. “Rabbi Rokeach, you know me. I am barely 30 and just got married a few years ago. I have no idea how to explain to an irreligious couple that they have to start keeping mitzvos, Shabbos candles, kiddush and family purity. Could you come to my office? You would know how to talk to them about this …”

Rabbi Rokeach declined. “Rabbi Stern, I know your Rebbe. If the answer came through you, it means the Rebbe made you the shliach, not me.”

“But I can’t do it!”

“Yes you can. You are the shliach of the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Always remember that.”

I hung up the phone. I was alone and confused. The life of the child was hanging in the balance. Who could I turn to?

I suddenly knew. I called my wife and she immediately came to the office. Together, we explained to the parents what the Rebbe’s instructions were. To my surprise, what bothered Mrs. Lorenstein was, of all things, the lighting of Shabbos candles.

“How will lighting candles help my daughter Laurie? If Laurie would light, I would understand it, but that I should light?”

My wife brought a set of candlesticks from the house and gave them to Laurie’s mother. “What’s the problem?” she asked gently. “It’s so simple. You put two candles in the candlesticks, light a match, say the blessing, and light them.”

“And if I make a mistake with the Hebrew?” asked Mrs. Lorenstein hesitantly. “I don’t read Hebrew well, as you know.”

My wife wrote down the transliteration of the bracha and reassured her that even if she made mistakes at first, Hashem would still accept the mitzva.

The parents were stunned by the suggestions. I brought them cups of water and they slowly relaxed. They left while promising they would think it over.

That evening, my wife went to their house and spoke to them again about Laurie and mitzvos connected to the Jewish mother. The following Thursday, I went to their house and said I was waiting for their answer. Would they accept the Rebbe’s instructions?

“Why are you asking?” they wondered. “Why is it so important for you to know?”

I explained that I wanted to report their answer to the Rebbe. That night, the husband called. “We are willing to do everything for Laurie. We’ve tried everything and now we are willing to start observing mitzvos.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I had passed this obstacle too.

PART IV

At eleven o’clock that night, I called R’ Chadakov with the parents’ answer and asked him to inform the Rebbe.

Laurie was in the hospital which was an hour’s drive from our city. We went once a week on a minibus and donated blood for her. We also arranged shifts with ten students from the highest class in our school to sit at her bedside and say T’hillim 24 hours a day for her. Her condition was critical. We went to visit the little girl but she looked more like a skeleton. She was only ten and had suffered so much already.

That Shabbos, after the mother lit candles for the first time and the couple committed to the laws of family purity, and made kiddush in shul, Laurie’s condition improved tremendously. Only two months later, she returned to school. She was very weak, but she attended class. A year later, she was playing jump rope like every other healthy girl her age. Her blond hair grew back. She was completely healthy and the miracle story spread throughout the state.

About two years after Laurie’s miraculous recovery, I left my position as principal and moved to sunny Florida. I decided to leave the field of education and with the Rebbe’s bracha I opened a Judaica store in Palm Beach.

PART V

Fifteen years passed and one day, I was sitting in my bookstore in Boca Raton. The location was considered an exclusive one. The store was in a fancy mall where very wealthy people shopped. I remember sitting near the books when the doorbell rang and I got up to greet the potential customer. It was a young woman pushing a baby carriage.

“Can I help you?” I asked politely.

She exclaimed, “Rabbi Stern?”

I stared at her, trying to remember where I knew her from and then it hit me, “Laurie!”

Boruch Hashem, she had grown up, had married, and had a beautiful family. She was happy to see me, and I was moved upon seeing her, healthy and a mother. Her eyes sparkled, and I knew that someone who has experienced suffering knows how to appreciate life.

I have other stories about people who nearly died, or who experienced miracles in their recoveries, but I think Laurie’s story is the most special. I feel that it’s a great z’chus to have known her and to have had a part in the miracle.