On Erev Yud Alef Nissan, my sister and I drove down the 405 freeway to Los Angeles in our little red Prius with high hopes of making it in time for our first class.
As we drove along, a friend had texted me, “I’m at the Ohel with you in mind while davening for brachos.”
I replied, “Thank you so much! If you can, please ask the Rebbe to bentch my family with good health, hatzlacha bigashmius uberuchnius and to be able to enjoy this Pesach bigeulah.”
I pressed “send text message” hoping that she received my wish list of brochas while she was still at the Rebbe’s Ohel.
About 20 minutes later, as we were driving down LaCienega Boulevard, a gold Jaguar sped up out of nowhere and came speeding in our direction. Screeching tires and crunching metal could be heard all around the town.
“Gam zu letova…” were the words that my sister chose to whisper with tightly shut eyes. “Gam zu letova!”
Our little red Prius was totaled and the left wheel was swinging off its hinge. Above the area where the gold Jaguar had forcefully throttled into us, was a small window that held a pocket sized picture of the Rebbe, smiling from ear to ear.
Our car ended up on the sidewalk next to a Burger King. Without a single broken bone, we stepped outside the car.
I guess the Rebbe had received my text message with the wish list of brochas after all…