The Story of Miriam the Washerwoman

Our story begins far away, in the Arab country of Kurdistan, where a woman named Miriam Mizrachi bas Mama, lived with her husband.

One day, her husband suddenly passed away, leaving her all alone. They had no children, and now, she had no husband.

With tears in her eyes, Miriam gathered some food and a few of her things and set out for Eretz Yisrael, where she hoped to live for the rest of her life.

She walked on foot, through sandy deserts, under the blazing hot sun, for many weeks, until she finally arrived in Yerushalayim.

Miriam was tired, hungry, and covered in sand. But where would she sleep?

Too proud to ask for tzedakah, Miriam began work as a washerwoman, cleaning houses and laundry for families who lived in Meah She’arim. She made just enough money pay for her food and her little, tiny house.

***
The sun rose over the small stone homes in Yerushalayim, shining a soft, warm light through the window. Miriam sat up and stretched. Today is going to be a good day.

She reached for a pail of water nearby to wash negel vasser, listening to the cool water splashing into the small bucket.

Miriam dried the last few drops off her hands and smiled. It was her favorite day of the week – the day she got to clean the home of the great Tzaddik, Reb Shlomke of Zevhil.
There were many stories about Reb Shlomke making great miracles happen. Miriam knew it was a big zechus to work in his home.

She lifted her eyes to Shamayim and thought, Hashem, I will start the day by davening to You the only way I know how.

“Shalom, Shechinah,” she said simply.
“Shalom Avraham Avinu, Shalom Moshe Rabbeinu…”

Miriam said “Shalom” to all the tzaddikim she knew about, trying to connect with each of them, even though they weren’t around anymore.

You see, she’d never gone to school when she was younger. She didn’t know how to read the Alef Beis, or even how to make a bracha. These simple words to Hashem were the best she could do – and she knew Hashem was listening.

After her short tefillah, Miriam cut a piece of bread and lifted her eyes up to Shamayim once more.

“Thank you Hashem,” she whispered, before biting into the bread. She then rushed out the door and through the narrow streets of the old city, until she reached Reb Shlomke’s home.

Miriam greeted everyone with a big smile. “Good morning,” she said, before getting to work. Leaving a large pot of water to boil, she gathered all the dirty clothes and set them aside in a big pile.

As the water boiled, she cleaned the house and swept the floors. Soon, the house was sparkling. She then took the clothes one by one, soaking them in the boiling water and rubbing them against a hard wooden board to get the stains out.

I’m so lucky to help out in the home of such a great tzaddik, she thought with a smile. I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.
Soon, all the stains were gone. Miriam poured out the dirty, brown water and filled the bucket with clean water to rinse off the clothes.

Finally, it was time for everything to dry. She squeezed out all the water and then hung the clothes around the courtyard to dry under the nice, warm Yerushlayim sun.

When she was done, Miriam’s hands were tired and her bones hurt from all the bending and rubbing and scrubbing. She said goodbye and walked back through the tiny streets of Meah She’arim, until she arrived back home.
It was dark and empty, as usual. Miriam sat down and sighed – she was tired. If only I had a child, – she thought. How much happier my life would be. After whispering a short tefilla to Hashem, one that came straight from her heart, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

***
Years passed. Week after week, Miriam dropped by the home of Reb Shlomke of Zevhil to clean and wash his laundry. But even though she greeted everyone with a smile, every day, she felt lonelier and lonelier. She really wished she had a child.

As she swished the clothes around the bucket with a big wooden stick, she couldn’t help but think: If I don’t have a child, who will remember me when I pass away?

One day, the pain became too much. After hanging all the clothing out to dry, she went back inside the house and walked, nervously, to the room where Reb Shlomke was learning.

The Tzaddik’s holy face made her step back in awe. A bright light shone around Reb Shlomke as he bent over his sefer, thinking about the Torah’s deepest secrets. For a few moments, Miriam just stood by quietly, until she finally said. “Rebbe, may I have a bracha for a child?”

For a second, it seemed like the Tzaddik hadn’t heard her. Miriam held her breath, wondering what to do.

Suddenly, Reb Shlomke looked up from his sefer and shook his head from side to side. “I can’t help you,” he said, sadly.

Miriam felt dizzy, like she might faint. If the Rebbe can’t help me – a Tzaddik directly connected to Hashem – if he can’t help me, then who can? She thought, her desperate eyes filling with tears.

Reb Shlomke thought for a moment, and then continued, “Even though I can’t help you, I can give you a bracha. A very special real bracha. In your zechus, many other people will be able to have children.”

Miriam stumbled out of the Rebbe’s house and back home to her little apartment. She sank down into a chair, her head in her hands, hot tears flowing down her cheeks. When she had no more tears left to cry, she straightened her shoulders and let herself calm down.

So I will never have children, she comforted herself, but I have the Rebbe’s bracha.

Someday, somehow, I’ll be able to help others have children. I won’t be forgotten.

She drifted off to sleep, wondering when the Rebbe’s bracha would come true.

***

Miriam tried to go back to her normal life, leaving her dream of having children behind her. Over time, she almost forgot about the bracha.

She hadn’t told anyone else about the Rebbe’s promise, either. She spent her free time doing chesed, helping others, and sewing beautiful Aron Kodesh Paroches covers for many nearby shuls. Her faith in Hashem stayed strong, and she continued davening to Him in her special way.

On Chof Daled Teves 1964, nineteen years after Reb Shlomke passed away, Miriam’s neshama returned to Shamayim.

Her levaya was small and quiet. Very few people showed up to say goodbye. She/d been an old, lonely washerwoman, and she’d had no family of her own. No one was left behind to say kaddish for her neshama.

She was buried in Har Hamenuchos cemetery, and on her kever are the words: “Miriam bas Mama is buried here.” No one ever knew her secret, that powerful bracha she’d been given by Reb Shlomke, The Rebbe of Zevhil.

***
Twenty-nine years passed. It was now the year 5753 (1993), the year for the Rebbe’s promise to come true.

One day, the town of Yerushalayim was buzzing with excitement.

“Did you hear?” the women whispered to each other. “Miriam the washerwoman visited her old neighbor in a dream!

She said Reb Shlomke once bentched her that, in her zechus, others will have children! Miriam gave directions to her kever and said that any woman who davens there on her yahrzeit will be blessed with children!”

News of the dream spread fast. Everyone seemed to be talking about it. Could the dream be true? Could such a simple, lonely woman truly carry such a powerful bracha from Reb Shlomke? Could she really bentch other women with children?

People wanted to find out. That year, on Chof Daled Teves 1993, the pathways of Har Hamenochos were crowded with many people. All people who needed children.

Buses came, one after another, filled with people heading to the kever of Miriam the Washerwoman.

A young man stood there, saying kaddish with tears in his eyes. “Amen,” everyone answered, whispering their private tefillos and davening for miracles.

They cried bitter tears, feeling so sad that they, themselves, didn’t have children.

Sure enough, their tefillos went straight up to Hashem. In that year alone, at least 32 childless women who davened at the kever became pregnant! Many of them had been praying for children for many, many years, and, shortly after going to the kever, they were finally blessed.

Ever since then, people from all over the world come to daven by Miriam’s kever on her yahrtzeit. The 24th day of Teves!

And each year, many of them experience a miracle.

People have shared all kinds of amazing stories.

One woman would visited Miriam after years of praying for children, and a year later, she’d had twins!

Miriam’s bracha was building families from all over. One woman struggling with medical issues was told she could never have a child.

She and her father visited Miriam’s kever, and a few days later, Miriam visited the woman in her dreams. Nine months later, she had a baby.

One lady shared her story: A while ago, I really wished for a baby. I asked many kind doctors for help and hoped for a little miracle. Every day, I would daven to Hashem for a baby. Then, one day, after 17 years, a friend told me about Miriam’s kever. She suggested, ‘Why don’t you go and say a prayer there for her help?’ So, I did! I went to Har Hamenuchos, davened, and even lit some candles for Miriam. Guess what? It worked! Soon, I had a little baby girl. And now, I have six wonderful children! All are miracles from the kever of Miriam bas Mama.
These miracles continue every year.

They didn’t happen many years ago, they happened to regular people like you and me.
A Tzaddik’s bracha is as strong as ever!

***

Miriam the Washerwoman lived her life simply, connecting with Hashem in whatever way she could. She scrubbed and rubbed and washed and soaked, humming to herself, grateful just to serve the great Tzaddik of Zevhil. And years later, she was zoche to bless hundreds of women with children.
To this day, every year on Chof Daled Teves, women from around the world visit her kever to daven for children. And each year, more and more miracles are born. Women with medical problems, women who’d waited many years for children, women who’d visited so many doctors… No matter their story, Miriam helped many of them have children, thanks to the Zevhiler Rebbe’s amazing bracha.

From Upcoming Book Amazing Miracle Stories for Kids #3