Chapter 57

We approached the child and stood over him. We saw that there had been a slight change for the better: the breath of life was in him and his neshama was still within him. Yet he remained critically ill, requiring abundant mercy beyond the natural order. We agreed not to create an uproar among the congregation or make our calamity known, Heaven forbid, but only to do our part by pleading for mercy; at the same time, however, we would inform trusted friends so that they too would plead for mercy from Hashem, blessed be He. There was already a change for the better in that we saw the breath of life within him, but he remained critically ill and continued purging and vomiting.

We thought that perhaps it would be better to take the child into the courtyard, where there was air, unlike the building, which contained many people. I took the child upon my shoulder, went out with him into the courtyard, and walked around with him for a long time. My heart was anguished and filled with a cry to Hashem, blessed be He: ‘Have pity, show compassion, and have mercy.’

My heart ached and was anguished: was this my purpose—to walk around the courtyard on this holy Shabbos, the eve of Lag BaOmer, the holy hillula, when every year I had been accustomed to increase my service of Hashem beside the holy tziyun? Now my joy had ceased entirely. I walked around while my wife followed me, and we did not know how to devise counsel for ourselves—what to do with this dangerously ill child on Shabbos, in such a wilderness and amid the tumult of so many people. (It is always our nature that, whatever happens to us, everything remains private; we do not create an uproar so that everyone should know, and we greatly detest making an uproar.) There was a first-aid station in the courtyard operated by Hadassah Hospital, and we did not know how to advise ourselves whether to enter there with the child. I feared that they would create an uproar about it and take him to the hospital in Tzfas, and so forth.

In sum, we agreed that my wife would enter there with the child, tell them nothing whatsoever about his illness, and merely request a little hot tea to revive him. She did so. She entered the Hadassah room with the child and laid him upon the bed. They lit the stove, prepared hot tea, and gave the child approximately a cup of tea. We took the child and left. We rejoiced that they had created no confusion and had not sought to keep the child with them. I took him upon my shoulder and walked around with him in the courtyard for another long while. He remained critically ill, purging and vomiting as stated above. The inward experience and the bitter, embittering taste that I felt throughout that entire time cannot be estimated at all.

In sum, this Shabbos was altogether extinguished for me. I experienced bitterness and embitterment of every kind throughout Shabbos and the Lag BaOmer that followed it, and for many days afterward, until the situation improved somewhat. Afterward I took the child and returned him to his mother, so that she could walk around with him and lay him down in whatever manner she considered best. I strengthened my heart and adopted the counsel brought by Rabbainu, of blessed memory, in Sichos HaRan: ‘Az es iz gor shlekht, git men zikh iber in gantsn’ [‘When matters are very bad, one surrenders oneself entirely to Hashem, blessed be He, that He should do as He wills’]. (That is, when, Heaven forbid, matters are very bad, one entrusts everything to Hashem, blessed be He, that He should do as He wills.)

Rabbainu, of blessed memory, likewise teaches in Likutay Moharan, Teaching 65, ‘Vayomer Boaz el Ruth’ [‘And Boaz Said to Ruth’]: one must shut one’s eyes entirely to the vision of this world and gaze only upon the good ultimate purpose of the sufferings (that is, the World to Come, where all is good and all is one). When a person nullifies himself completely, he does not feel the sufferings, because he has become entirely nullified to Hashem, blessed be He, and knows nothing of himself whatsoever. So too, it is ingrained in the nature of the Jewish soul that when a person undergoes very great sufferings, he closes his eyes and nullifies himself completely. Yet one cannot remain in such nullification continually; immediately upon returning from the state of being nullified to Hashem, blessed be He—upon returning from the nullification—the sufferings intensify and one already feels them, and so forth.

So it was with me. I closed my eyes and nullified myself entirely: whatever would be, I knew nothing whatsoever. Yet immediately when I returned to my mind and awareness, I again felt the sufferings with still greater force and intensity. This struggle recurred for me at every time and every moment throughout all those days. I would nullify myself completely and set my mind aside entirely, and it would become somewhat easier; immediately upon returning to awareness, the sufferings returned. I would then nullify myself again, after which they would return, and so on, until all those days had passed. Yet an iron strength is required to bear this struggle and these sufferings throughout all those days.

I experienced this same struggle and these same sufferings, in ratzo vashov [running and returning], during the difficult days that passed over me in the course of my work concerning the border crossing; especially while I was in prison and expected death every day, Heaven forbid; and likewise when the illnesses and deaths of the children befell me—may Hashem protect us henceforth.