Uncanny Messages
Excitedly my friend concluded, “Amazing, isn’t it, to see the Rebbe’s love for us Chassidim? We can see how nothing is concealed from him. Without looking at where and what situation we are in — he always thinks about us, sees us, and feels our pain. The Rebbe simply saw what was happening at our home, which aroused in him great mercy upon us, sending you to reassure us, so we don’t experience the Purim meal in great sadness.”
Rabbi Zalman Chanin
Over the years countless letters and phone calls arrived at the Rebbe’s office, pleading for blessing, advice, help, or plain comfort. Yet answers could seemingly come out of nowhere, and not even for the asking. The Avner Institute presents charming accounts, two among many recorded from Rabbi Zalman Chanin, who merited for many decades to record the Rebbe’s teachings and whose frequent interactions with Rabbi Leibel Groner, of blessed memory — the Rebbe’s longtime secretary and, tragically, recent victim of the coronavirus — display the Rebbe’s otherworldly connection to his Chassidim; his foreknowledge of situations, happy and sad, and their outcomes.
“The Rebbe’s instructions are coming from above.”
From the personal notes of Rabbi Zalman Chanin:
In my memoirs, there are many stories about instructions I received from the Rebbe regarding my communal affairs, especially regarding the work at the Vaad L’Hafotzas Sichos, the office that disseminate the Rebbe’s discourses.
Yet, there are also stories of a different kind, stories that are not directly related to my communal affairs. One of those stories, aside for the fact that it combines clear prophetic vision and a medical miracle, shows the immense love and connection between the Rebbe and a Chassid, and the way the Rebbe feels the situation of a Chassid even before the latter writes to him: “…when they have not yet called, that I will respond” (Isaiah 65:24).
No hold on this world
It was in the early 1980s. I was at my home, enjoying the Purim meal with my family, when the phone rang. The Rebbe’s secretary, Rabbi Yehuda Leib Groner, was on the line, saying that he needed to pass on an instruction on behalf of the Rebbe, but that it shouldn’t be done over the phone. He asked me to come to his office as soon as possible.
He added, “It is an urgent matter that must be taken care of immediately. Please, do not delay – come by the Secretariat at once.”
I didn’t waste a moment. Although I had guests at the meal, my parents included, I apologized to everyone and grabbed my coat.
Truth be told, I was very nervous. I was not used to receiving messages like these. “It is an urgent matter” — Rabbi Groner’s words echoed in my head. What could be so urgent?
When I entered the Secretariat’s office, Rabbi Groner said: “Zalman, you won’t believe the instruction I received from the Rebbe to give over to you.”
I was already bursting with curiosity. The secretary continued:
“The Rebbe asked me to apologize on his behalf for interrupting your Purim meal. But this is a matter of great concern, a matter of ahavat Yisrael – love for a fellow Jew. Therefore, it is worthwhile to interrupt your meal to make two Jews happy, especially on Purim – where the commandment of the day is to be joyful.”
Well, after such an introduction, I was anxious to know the task at hand – and, the two Jews whom this task was supposed to make happy.
Rabbi Groner mentioned the name of one of my closest friends. “Please call him. I quote the Rebbe: ‘I’m sure he’s now sitting at a Purim meal with his wife. They’re staring at each other – by nature they are fretful — and thinking about things that have no hold on this world. Things that are so extreme that it’s ruining their holiday.
“`Tell them in my name that everything will be okay, that they shouldn’t think about it — because it’s nothing — and that they should rejoice with the holiday together with all the Jews. G-d will show them that everything will work out to the best. And with this, I hope you’ll be able to reassure them, and G-d will fulfill their heart’s desires for good and blessing.’
Rabbi Groner concluded, “At the end of his words, the Rebbe repeated: ‘Again, my apologies for the hassle – but everything is worthwhile to do good for Jews!’”
Overtime Worry
After hearing all this, I felt relaxed on the one hand, but on the other I felt intrigued. Why were my friend and his wife worried? What did they relate to the Rebbe?
Quickly I dialed my friend. After wishing him a hearty “Happy Purim,” I asked him as casually as possible, “How are you doing?”
Just as the Rebbe described, my friend answered in a heartbroken voice, “I’m afraid my Purim isn’t very happy.” He sighed. “As I talk to you, I am sitting across from my wife, but neither of us is able to rejoice. We both stare at each other, and the worrisome thoughts are working overtime.”
This is exactly how he described his situation, almost verbatim from the way the Rebbe described it. I didn’t wait for him to explain, but immediately told him about the task I had received this very moment from the Rebbe.
When he heard my words, his mood drastically changed. Over the phone I heard him give over to his wife the Rebbe’s reassurance, and I even heard him break out in a happy dance.
Feeling elated, I mock scolded him. “Don’t you think the Rebbe has nothing better to do than to think about your worries? What is the story?”
With great excitement, he told me the following:
“Shortly before Purim, my wife was not feeling well. When she went to doctor, he performed a series of x-rays, in which a tumor was found. The doctor expressed concern that it might be malignant and wanted to perform a biopsy to determine whether a simple surgery would be enough, or if a series of chemotherapy and radiation treatments were needed, G-d forbid.
“Of course, when we heard such news, we were shocked and frightened, especially since my wife and I are fretful by nature.”
Here I remembered the Rebbe’s description of the couple.
“So we sat at the Purim meal,” my friend continued, “staring at each other with broken hearts, worries rushing in – may G-d protect us from what we thought. The worst-case possible scenarios seemed as if they already happened, and they put us in a terrible state of sadness.”
Since I knew my friend as someone who wrote frequently to the Rebbe for advice and general doings, I asked, “When did you inform the Rebbe about this?”
To my surprise, he answered, “I didn’t inform the Rebbe at all. We hadn’t received the test results yet.”
Then he beamed. “The Rebbe’s instructions are coming from above.”
Excitedly my friend concluded, “Amazing, isn’t it, to see the Rebbe’s love for us Chassidim? We can see how nothing is concealed from him. Without looking at where and what situation we are in — he always thinks about us, sees us, and feels our pain.
“The Rebbe simply saw what was happening at our home, which aroused in him great mercy upon us, sending you to reassure us, so we don’t experience the Purim meal in great sadness.”
Faith negates concern
A few days later, my friend notified me that after the test results arrived, the doctor reassured them that the tumor was benign. Following a quick surgery, the problem was resolved, and everything fell into place.
Thank G-d, decades have passed, and the episode left zero impression, as if it had never existed. Nevertheless, both my friend and I will never forget the message: amid the holiday of Purim — whoever learned Chassidic teachings knows the special spiritual light on that day, even greater than Yom Kippur — the Rebbe stopped what he was doing, took care of a nervous couple, and reassured them that their Purim meal would be enjoyable, and not steeped in sadness and bitterness.
An interesting sequel. Shortly after the tumor was successfully removed, his wife remained concerned about the future.
As per her request, the husband wrote to the Rebbe that although her health had improved, her mood was poor, and her thoughts clouded with worry. Therefore, he asked for the Rebbe’s blessing.
To this, the Rebbe replied: “Regarding what you write about her mood, G-d’s commandment is to ‘Serve the L-rd with joy.’ Trust in G-d, which results in negation of concern, is a fundamental foundation of our faith.”
I am reminded of a rare answer my friend had received a few years earlier, when in a long letter to the Rebbe he poured his heart out about his own situation in matters of livelihood, health, and personal matters. Painting his condition in dark colors, he wrote, “Everything is upside down.” At the end of his letter he added, “Where is the good news the Rebbe blessed me with?”
Next to the words Where are the good news, the Rebbe wrote the following: “After G-d Almighty had shown him open miracles — by him, his wife, and his children, may they be well — if he doesn’t see [them] and still has complaints, a head cannot be installed.”
“And I wish him a happy Hanukkah.”
From the personal notes of Rabbi Zalman Chanin, continued:
Interestingly, there’s another miracle story which also began amid Purim, but ended on Hanukkah decades later.
Hidden Meaning?
It was the year 1986 or 1987. My aforementioned friend, who knew how the Rebbe happily received reports of his activities – sat down during Purim to write the latest: How many mishloach manot were distributed, how many places the Megillah was read, etc.
At the end, he wanted to wish the Rebbe “A Happy Purim,” but mistakenly wrote, “I wish the Rebbe a Happy Hanukkah!”
Usually my friend sent the reports to the Rebbe through me. So it was the same with this one, which was faxed to my office. I casually forwarded the report to the Rebbe’s secretariat. I didn’t bother to read it because, simply, it was none of my business.
Shortly afterward, following Mincha service, Rabbi Groner phoned me. “Did you read the report that your friend sent to the Rebbe?”
I said no, as it was private.
Rabbi Groner explained, “The Rebbe just read the letter, and asked me to find out if you knew what your friend meant when he wished the Rebbe ‘Happy Hanukkah’?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea.”
Rabbi Groner continued, “The Rebbe asked me to clarify the matter, saying he will be awaiting an answer from the writer of the report. He will not go home to eat the Purim meal until he knows what this was all about.”
He whispered, “Please, could you give your friend a call? The Rebbe is waiting in his study.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. What difference did it make if my friend wrote “Happy Purim” or “Happy Hanukkah”? Does one line in the letter impact the higher worlds so much that the Rebbe wouldn’t go home until he received an answer as to my friend’s intentions? Nevertheless, I called my friend right away and told him about the dialogue between me and Rabbi Groner.
Upset over causing the Rebbe possible unrest, my friend asked me to convey right away to the Rebbe his apologies.
“I was a bit tipsy,” he explained. “Purim, you know. Guess I got a bit confused and wrote ‘Happy Hanukkah’ instead of ‘Happy Purim.’” He made it clear, of course, that he had no hidden intentions.
I immediately called back the Rebbe’s secretariat and relayed my friend’s answer.
Rabbi Groner told me, “When the Rebbe heard the answer, he smiled and said that you should relay to your friend the following: ‘And I wish him a happy Hanukkah.’”
I informed my friend of the Rebbe’s response, and we were both surprised. Nevertheless, the whole thing was quickly forgotten.
Twenty years later, on the first day of Hanukkah, my friend suffered massive cardiac arrest and had to undergo open-heart surgery. The operation was complex, but it ended with unbelievable success. Before the end of Hanukkah, my friend was already back home safe and sound.
It is then that we both remembered the Rebbe’s answer, twenty years earlier: “And I wish him a happy Hanukkah.”
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When is a book coming out
This was incredible