While we had been released from the hospital at eight o’clock that morning, we didn’t actually leave the children’s ward until eleven, three hours later. Throughout this time, people came to our room and stood in line to write a letter to the Rebbe in request of a bracha. An amazing story as told by the baalas ha’maaseh, Mrs. Ester Rochberger from Rishon L’Tziyon.
Translated by Michoel Leib Dobry
While more than twenty-five years have passed since the following story took place, each time Mrs. Ester Rochberger of Rishon L’Tziyon recalls the events, her emotions are rekindled. So it was when we asked to hear from her first-hand about the miracle experienced by her son, Shneur Zalman. Her voice filled with emotion as she told her story, recalling those days with the utmost clarity.
“I’ll never forget the look of total shock on the face of the head of the hospital’s children’s ward, Professor Yitzchak Winograd. For several long minutes he explained to the accompanying medical interns about my son’s serious condition and the lengthy period of rehabilitation still awaiting him. Yet, quite incredibly, when the moment came to examine him, the doctor was positively stunned. Everything had vanished as if it had never been there.”
IT WOULD BE PROPER TO CHECK THE MEZUZOS IN THEIR APARTMENT
For several months since his birth, Shneur Zalman had suffered from a troublesome case of bronchitis that never seemed to leave him. “Twenty-five years ago, they didn’t know how to treat this ailment as they do today,” recalled Mrs. Rochberger. “Every time that I came to see the pediatrician, she would write out a prescription for antibiotics. While the medications helped to improve his condition, they regrettably lasted only for a brief period and the illness ch”v returned. Thus, the child endured this disorder until the age of twenty-two months. He would cough incessantly and there didn’t appear to be any real solution on the horizon. As he reached the age of two, I considered registering him for nursery school. However, I knew that if his condition remained as it was, while he would be registered in nursery school, he would end up spending most of his time at home.
“As with all important matters in our lives, I wrote a letter to the Rebbe. This was in mid-5751, and I asked the Rebbe for a bracha that our son should become healthy and his coughing should stop. Several months later, in late Tammuz, my husband flew to Beis Chayeinu. I asked him that when he passed by the Rebbe for dollars distribution, he should request a blessing for our son as well, and so he did. My husband submitted the names of numerous people in need of personal salvation and a bracha, giving special mention to our son.
“The fact is that since my husband’s return to Eretz Yisroel, there had been a significant improvement in our child’s condition. In addition, three days before Rosh Hashanah we were privileged to find in our mailbox a reply from the Rebbe to a request for a bracha that I had sent:
Their PaN from June 19 has been received, and it will be read at an auspicious hour at the Tziyon of my holy and revered father-in-law, the Rebbe, of holy and righteous memory, his soul rests in the hidden treasures of Heaven, may his merit protect us.
“At the conclusion of the letter, the Rebbe’s secretary added in the Rebbe’s name: It would be proper to check the mezuzos in their apartment, to be certain that all of them are halachically fit if they haven’t been checked in the last twelve months.”
A SUDDEN AND SURPRISING INFECTION
“Due to the hectic holiday preparations, we read the letter once and placed it in the bundle of correspondences our family had been privileged to receive from the Rebbe over the years. Implementing the Rebbe’s instructions to check the mezuzos was postponed until after Yom tov.
“On the first night of Rosh Hashanah, our Shneur was happy and cheerful. We were overjoyed by the prospect that he would finally be able to enjoy his life as any normal child.
“However, this feeling didn’t last very long. On the morning of the second day of Rosh Hashanah, I heard him crying and I climbed the stairs leading to his room. My maternal instincts told me that this wasn’t just the standard cry of a small child. It sounded low and weak, and I realized that something was bothering him.
“It turned out that I wasn’t wrong. When I came over to his bed and touched his forehead, I felt that he was burning with fever. I quickly took his temperature and was stunned to see that it was over 104°F. I realized that this was a matter of pikuach nefesh. Wasting no time, I closed my T’hillim and rushed him to the special health clinic kept open on Yom tov for emergency situations. The clinic opened at ten o’clock in the morning, and I stood there with other people until the doctors and clinic staff arrived.
“When people noticed my son’s listless appearance and his rolling eyes, they allowed me to go in first to see the doctor, and she immediately did a blood test on him. The diagnosis was quick – there was an infectious inflammation that was causing the body temperature to rise. A brief examination revealed that the source of the infection was an open wound on one of his legs.
“I remembered that I had dressed my son in short pants the day before. When he took a nap that afternoon, I noticed a fly land on an open and unscabbed wound on his leg. I mentioned this to the doctor, and she agreed that this could be the source of the infection and inflammation.
“After another series of tests that confirmed the doctor’s initial diagnosis, I was sent that same day to the children’s emergency room at the Assaf HaRofe Hospital. On our way there, I recalled the letter that had come from the Rebbe three days earlier. I felt that by Divine Providence, the Rebbe had provided the cure prior to the calamity. This knowledge filled me with a sense of faith and confidence.
“The next morning, however, my feeling of concern and apprehension began to gnaw away at me again. It was when the head of the children’s ward, Professor Yitzchak Winograd, came into my son’s hospital room. He took a pen out of his pocket, marked the place of the inflammation, and then he showed me how in the span of one day, the inflammation had spread from the thigh to the ankle and was climbing higher. He explained to us the purpose of the medications our son was now receiving. He then laid out before us the worst and most frightful options available to the medical staff in the event that the inflammation continued to spread. ‘You can expect to be here for quite a while longer,’ the senior doctor informed us. His words both saddened and worried me.
“It was Wednesday, Tzom Gedalya, and one of our friends offered to watch our child at the hospital, while my husband and I traveled to Beit Shazar in Kfar Chabad to send a fax to the Rebbe’s mazkirus. I’ll never forget how I wrote a lengthy correspondence spelling out everything that had happened to us and our child, and I concluded the letter with our request for a bracha. In the meantime, my husband began the process of getting the mezuzos checked. He didn’t just handle the checking of the mezuzos in our home, he also took care of the mezuzos in the children’s ward at Assaf HaRofe. All of the mezuzos, without exception, were pasul. The hospital’s mezuzos were written on parchment sprayed with plaster, as had been customary in the past, and this caused the letters to split and crack. Even the mezuzos in our house had several problems, which required immediate correction.
“As soon as the new mezuzos were affixed, there was a certain improvement in our son’s condition. As a result, the medical staff agreed to release him for a period of twenty-four hours. This would allow us to make Shabbos at home, and we would return to the hospital ward as soon as Shabbos ended.
“Equipped with a list of medications and instructions, we made our way home. I immediately got to work on laundering and folding clothes, and we soon restored a semblance of normalcy in our house after a week of absence. We were ordered to bring our son back to his hospital bed no later than one hour after Shabbos.
“Just fifteen minutes before leaving for the hospital on Motzaei Shabbos, our home telephone rang. On the line was Rabbi Chaim Shalom Segal from Afula, and he had a message for us: You have received the Rebbe’s bracha. This news was a source of tremendous strength and allayed our fears.
“On Sunday morning, Professor Winograd came into Shneur’s room together with a staff of young interns, explaining to them about the inflammation infecting the boy’s leg. He told them what kind of inflammation had afflicted our son, as he described the expected several long weeks of hospitalization and treatment in the ward, optimistically speaking, before the medications would manage to make their healing effect. He also didn’t hesitate to present all available medical options in the event that the infection ch”v spread out of control. After the department head finished his presentation, he asked everyone to take a moment and view the afflicted leg for themselves.
“He rolled up Shneur’s pants and looked at his leg for a long while. Then, thinking that he had perhaps made a mistake, he asked to see the other leg. The discovery was amazing: the deep reddish inflammation had completely disappeared and the leg now appeared normal with no discoloration. Professor Winograd was speechless.
“When I realized the intensity of the miracle, I told the doctor, ‘You see, Professor, this is a miracle of the Lubavitcher Rebbe.’ He looked at me for a long while and then said: ‘There’s something to what you’re saying.’ He called the head nurse, and in a voice filled with excitement, he told her to prepare our son’s release papers. The leg was completely healthy and there was no need for us to stay any longer.
“When she heard this, she too was totally astounded. Within a few minutes, this miraculous story had spread rapidly to every room of the children’s ward, among both the patients and the hospital staff.”
EVERYONE WANTED TO WRITE TO THE LEADER OF THE GENERATION
“What happened during those moments was quite amazing, literally a case of ‘Who is like Your people Yisroel?’ While we had been released from the hospital at eight o’clock that morning, we didn’t actually leave the children’s ward until eleven, three hours later. Throughout this time, people came to the room and stood in line to write a letter to the Rebbe in request of a bracha,” Mrs. Ester Rochberger said as she concluded her fascinating story. “The bronchitis and the inflammation disappeared as if they had never existed.
“Today, my dear son is married with children, and we in our family always remember the amazing miracle we experienced with him.”