Author: Shifra Hendrie
St. Paul, Minnesota, February, 1979…
I sat in the hall waiting for the program to start. I felt alone
in a room filled with hundreds of people. I had missed my ride
to the country. Instead, I was here, in this hall full of
chassidic Jews – a stranger in a strange land…
A World that Was
I grew up like any other middle-class American. I went to
college, dated, had fun with my friends. Although I happened to
be Jewish – and was proud of it – my Judaism didn’t play a big
role in my life.
My mother grew up in Chicago in an observant home. Her father,
my beloved grandfather, passed away in 1973. When I was little
he held me on his lap and told me stories of his own childhood -
stories that seemed like fairy tales to me.
When he was six years old and his little brother only five,
their parents left Europe for America to build a better life for
the family. The two little boys – practically babies – were left
in the old country. There, they lived and studied full time in a
“yeshivah” — the kind of traditional Jewish school that didn’t
exist in America at that time.
The village they lived in was extremely poor, and their school
had no budget for feeding the kids. The villagers helped out by
opening their homes and sharing what little they had. Often that
little was almost nothing.
At night, the children slept on benches in the school. They
studied standing up so that they wouldn’t fall asleep over the
complex texts. All was for the purpose of passing the learning,
the tradition, to the next generation in a pure and unbroken
chain.
Although my grandfather’s stories told of a life of struggle and
sacrifice, when he spoke of his life in the old world it seemed
filled with magic and beauty.
My great-grandparents worked hard, and by the time my
grandfather was seventeen years old they were able to bring him
and his brother to America. When he saw his mother for the first
time in America, he was an adult. He didn’t recognize her.
Nonetheless, the foresight and self-sacrifice of his parents
saved the family’s lives. Some years later, when the Nazis
rolled into that very village, not one person was left alive.
The pictures of my grandfather’s lost village – Eisheshuk – now
cover the tower of the Holocaust Museum in Washington D.C. They
tell the story of a world that once was and is no more.
I loved my grandfather very, very much. But my grandparents had
passed away several years before, and whatever little bit of
connection to our Jewish roots my family still maintained was
eroding. I was no longer an adoring little child. I was a hip
college student, quite disinterested in tradition or religion.
And then, out of the blue, my fifteen-year-old brother suddenly
declared that he wanted to be observant. My reaction was…
huh??? That’s for grandparents, not for you! Judaism is
beautiful, yes – in its place. In the past.
My Journey Begins
But my brother persisted, eventually introducing me to the vast
mystical world of Kabbalah and Chassidus. Once I began to study,
I was exposed to a profound and fascinating wisdom that was
unlike anything I had seen or heard anywhere else. I sensed a
truth that I couldn’t deny. I began – tentatively – to eat
kosher food and observe the Sabbath. But it still didn’t seem to
feel right. The problem wasn’t with the observance itself. It
was me. I felt acutely and painfully out of place, caught
between two worlds without a solid foot in either one.
Hardly any of my friends were Jewish. In fact, I wasn’t even
sure that I believed in G-d – and I was sure that if there was a
G-d He wouldn’t particularly notice or care about me.
So when the opportunity came up to drive to the country that
Friday night with some friends I was tempted to go. But at the
last minute I decided to give the Shabbat one last try. I said
no.
So there I sat, that Saturday night, feeling that I had very
little in common with these odd people – but still curious to
get one final glimpse into their fascinating, mystical world.
The Rebbe’s Disciple
The white-bearded Chassidic rabbi at the dais was a disciple of
a Rebbe – a great Chassidic Master – whose passing, some 29
years before, was being commemorated this night. The Rebbe was
said to be a great tzaddik – a righteous and holy man on the
spiritual level of Moses himself. He was said to have the power
to do miracles and the Divine insight to see into a person’s
soul.
His successor, who was living in Brooklyn, was the spiritual
leader of the global Chabad Chassidic movement and was said to
have, if anything, even greater spiritual stature and powers
than his predecessor.
The visiting rabbi, whose home was in Chicago, was known as an
unusually talented speaker. Interestingly, the small chassidic
community of St. Paul, Minnesota had been trying to book him, on
and off, for the last ten years, but somehow it had never worked
out. But he was there that night. His talk began.
There are No Accidents
“It’s no accident that we’re all here together on this
particular night,” began the rabbi in a deep, sonorous voice.
“The Rebbe often quoted the Baal Shem Tov, first of the
chassidic masters, concerning the principle of Divine
Providence. He constantly emphasized that everything a person
sees, he’s meant to see, and everything that he hears, he’s
meant to hear. He taught that whenever something happens that
makes a particularly strong impression on a person, that person
needs to be aware that this experience was custom-created by G-d
specifically for him, in order to give him direction and insight
in fulfilling his Divine mission.
“The fact that I’m here tonight – together with all of you – is
surely significant.”
The rabbi continued speaking. He talked about the Rebbe, telling
stories of his life – stories that illuminated his greatness,
his genius, his holiness, his kindness.
Then he began a story that caught my attention. In fact, it
riveted me.
“In the months and years after the Holocaust,” he told, “we had
a fund. We collected money to distribute to the desperate
refugees left in Europe after the war.
“Among those who was there at the time was a man by the name of
Mr. Samuel Broida. He was the owner of a kosher meat packaging
company in Chicago. He was also the president of our fund.”
“Altogether we managed to collect $180,000; a great deal of
money at that time. Mr. Broida was delegated to take the money
to Europe, to help a group of refugees who had fled from Russia
to a suburb of Paris. When he returned home, he told us that
something had happened to him; something he would never forget.”
“‘When I was in Paris,’ said Mr. Broida, ‘I met a little boy
about eight years old. I asked him if there was something I
could do for him. I thought the poor little boy would ask me for
shoes, clothes, food, candy, a suit, a hat… but I was wrong.
He asked for none of those things. Instead, he said to me, ‘I
want to be able go to America and see the Lubavitcher Rebbe
someday.’
‘I myself,’ continued Mr. Broida, ‘am not a follower of the
Rebbe – not at all. I’ve heard stories of the Rebbe, of his
miracles, of the power of his blessings, of his holiness and
greatness. But I didn’t really believe them. I thought to
myself: How is this possible? How is it possible for any human
being to leave such a powerful impression on his followers, that
he is more real to them than their hunger, their devastation or
their poverty? And this was a small child! His answer was
completely spontaneous. How it is possible that a small child, a
poor child, a hungry child, wants nothing in the world but to
catch a glimpse of this holy man?’
‘If a Rebbe,” concluded Mr. Broida, ‘thirty years after leaving
a place, leaves this kind of impression, then it has to be
because he truly is the kind of human being that the world knows
nothing of. The kind of human being that I had assumed could not
exist. The kind of human being that is head and shoulders
greater than the rest of us. …’
The Rebbe’s Promise
“After this,” the rabbi said, “Mr. Broida asked me if I would
take him to New York to meet the Rebbe for himself. This was
1947, just a couple of years before the Rebbe’s passing. The
Rebbe’s health by this time was frail. He had been imprisoned
and severely tortured by the Russians who found his powerful
religious leadership a great threat to the communist regime. He
was able to see very few people each day and there was a long
waiting list – but I managed to get Mr. Broida an appointment.
And he told me afterwards that it was one of the most profound
and incredible experiences of his life.”
“But then,” continued the rabbi, “Something even more amazing
happened. A Rebbe, like any person who receives the confidence
of others, never repeats a word of what happens in a private
audience between him and any other person. If a lawyer or a
doctor is bound by confidentiality, how much more so a Rebbe!
Nevertheless, after Mr. Broida saw the Rebbe, the Rebbe called
me into his office to tell me about his meeting with Mr. Broida.
“‘Mr. Broida came in to me today,’ the Rebbe told me. ‘I asked
him about his business, his community work. We talked. And when
we were done talking, I asked him: ‘And what are your children
doing?’ He burst into tears and told me that of his six
children, none were observant anymore. I promised him,’
continued the Rebbe, “that he would have “nachas” from his
grandchildren – the joy of seeing his Judaism come alive again
one day in them.”
“I have often wondered since then,” concluded the rabbi, “what
happened to the Rebbe’s promise. Mr. Broida passed away years
ago and I don’t know what happened to his family. But one thing
I do know. The promise of a tzaddik, of a Rebbe, is never made
in vain.”
The speech was over. I sat in my seat with tears pouring down my
face.
I knew what had happened to the Rebbe’s promise.
Mr. Broida was my grandfather.
The Other Side of the Tapestry
The rabbi began that night his talk with a discussion of Divine
Providence. That was no accident. Nothing ever is.
Though he was only in his fifties, this rabbi — Rabbi Shlomo
Zalman Hecht of Chicago –unexpectedly passed a way a short few
months after that evening. If he had not been there at that
time, if I had taken the Friday night ride to the country, if he
had told a different story, if he had told this one and just not
mentioned my grandfather’s name… I would be living an entirely
different life. And you would not be reading these words today.
Our lives are like the reverse side of a great tapestry. From
the back, all we can see are the knots, the imperfections, some
bumps, some smears of color. It all looks random and chaotic.
Only from the front side of the tapestry is it possible to see
how it all fits together. From the front you can see that every
stitch and every knot forms an integral part of a vast,
magnificent picture.
In life, for the most part, we only see the back of the
tapestry. We have to use our intuition, our knowledge, our
wisdom, to try to fit the parts together, to guess at the
picture that might be on the other side.
But on that night, I, the agnostic, was granted a rare
privilege. I was given an open glimpse of it.
In that glimpse I saw many things. I saw the complex and awesome
power of Divine Providence and the infinite care with which G-d
weaves together the events of every person’s unique and personal
life. I saw the awesome power of a true tzaddik, his ability to
see beyond time and beyond worlds, to reach into the reservoir
of souls and empower a specific soul to fulfill its destiny, to
make a promise and keep it.
And finally, I saw that G-d plants messages for us all, and
those messages, if we allow them to, can change our lives.
Sometimes they’re big and blatant, sometimes small and subtle.
But they are always there if we want to see them.
When I stumbled over my destiny I wasn’t expecting it. In fact,
it was the furthest thing from my mind. I wasn’t even sure that
I believed in G-d. But when I ran headlong into an alternate
plane of reality, I saw clearly that it was vaster, deeper and
far more compelling than anything I had believed possible
before.
Racing Toward Destiny
That was 27 years ago. Since then, more than my own life has
changed. During the past 27 years, the train of history has
traveled many stops en route to its ultimate destination. And
its speed is accelerating day by day.
We are living today in the times spoken of by sages and
prophets. This is a time of transition between the old order and
the new. It is a time of crisis and of awesome possibility. The
potential of these times is unprecedented – both for good and
ill. During these times we can choose to remain small, confused
and helpless – or, instead, to embrace the G-d-given power that
each of us has been given to change the world for good.
If we choose to turn our backs on our messages, we remain like
wanderers in the dark, confused, isolated and disempowered. But
if we choose instead to open our eyes, to see and hear those
messages, to put the pieces of the puzzle together and see the
picture as it actually is, it can make all the difference – not
only for us personally, but for the world at large.
You Have the Power
The Torah teaches us to view the entire world as hanging
perfectly balanced between good and bad, deserving or
undeserving. That means that your one act, no matter how small,
can literally tip the scales. It can make all the difference in
the world.
If you choose, you can use your power to reach out to heal a
broken relationship or soothe a wounded heart, to share your
time or money with someone who needs it, to say some sincere
words of prayer, or to do an extra mitzvah and bring more Divine
light into the world. Any of these things are intrinsically good
and will almost certainly change your life and the lives of
those around you.
But it goes even farther than that. By watching for your
opportunities, listening for your messages, reading between the
lines, and embracing your authentic power, you can help bring us
all safely home.
About the author:
Shifra Hendrie specializes in helping talented, spiritually-minded people create breakthrough results in their lives, businesses and relationships through a unique combination of deep spiritual wisdom and cutting-edge coaching tools.
To read more of her articles, listen to audio classes or download her fascinating free ecourse, “Seven Kabbalah Secrets, visit her site Kabbalahof Transformations.com
