Chapter 71

Thus that night, too, passed over us, and we performed our devotions as on every night, as stated above. On Sunday morning of Parashas Naso, after prayer, I performed my devotions as on every day—with prayer, the lot, pidyonos, and so forth, as well as charity, and so forth. We ate, and afterward walked to the hospital by the aforementioned long road, in the intense heat at midday. Although this was exceedingly difficult for us, the fear and anxiety of the heart to see the child outweighed the burden of the road.

We took a path through the grass that led directly there, so that we would not have to guard ourselves against the buses that continually sped past. This also meant that our conversation would not be interrupted, for I spoke with her about accounts of tzaddikim and about the greatness and kindness of Hashem, may He be blessed, which is itself a powerful segulah for the sweetening of judgments, and so forth.

We reached the hospital, entered together with the multitude of people, and ascended to the floor of the children’s ward. I hurried ahead and entered the room. I saw that the child was not in his bed and was not in that room at all. My soul nearly departed, God forbid. The nurse immediately drove me from the room and made me stand in the corridor and wait until she had finished feeding the children there. The condition of my heart may readily be understood.

I did not wish to tell this to my wife, may she live, and grieve her soul. I merely said within my heart, “Let us wait and see how the matter will fall.” We waited, and meanwhile they brought the child from the adjoining room, where they had given him injections, and so forth, and placed him in his bed. We then entered and saw him lying in the bed. We rejoiced that he lay there, for there was still hope, although he remained without response or movement, as stated above.

We sat beside his bed throughout the entire allotted hour and pleaded before Hashem, may He be blessed. We left with grief in our hearts and asked the nurses, who replied, “The same condition.” We then walked back and entered the tomb of Shimon HaTzaddik, may his merit protect us, amen. We remained there in prayer and supplication, with weeping and grief of heart.

We likewise entered the home of my father-in-law, of blessed memory, and told him of the child’s condition. Our hearts ached greatly because we saw no change whatsoever in his state. We went home by way of Damascus Gate. I went to the Western Wall, where I aroused mercy; I also aroused our fellow Breslover Chassidim and distributed money to them for pidyonos.

I also performed the segulah of symbolically selling the child to my friend, our teacher Rabbi Aryeh Leib son of Rabbi Chaim Itshi, who was a relative of ours, a Kohen, and at that time a bridegroom. We greatly increased prayer and petition. At night I performed my devotions, and so forth; and in the morning after prayer, as stated above, I wept with torrents of tears until I had wept out my entire heart. Thus I did every night at midnight, every morning after prayer, and also toward evening, and so forth.

That morning the aforementioned young man, the neighbor’s grandson, brought me word that he had spoken by telephone and they had told him, “The same condition.” We spent that Monday, too, in prayer and the pouring out of the heart, as on the preceding days. On Tuesday, after I had performed all the aforementioned devotions as on the other days, we likewise traveled by the aforementioned route to the hospital to visit the child.

We waited until we were admitted and found him lying in his bed in the aforementioned condition, without response or movement. We sat beside his bed with profound grief. We felt an intense envy: blessed be Hashem, all the other children saw their parents come to visit them, wept, and received toys that their parents brought them, with which they played. Our child, however, possessed no response and made no movement at all. He was so ill and wasted away—nothing but skin and bones, his eyes protruding from his head, and his body filled with sores from the injections they administered to him, by means of which they sustained his life.

There in the hospital my wife considered the matter and said that we should add another name for him. She began calling him Alter—a name customarily given to an only son whose parents have suffered, and so forth. I also said that I gave him as a gift a certain number of years from my own life, and she said the same. We left in profound grief, our hearts broken within us, and so forth.

We returned and entered the cave of Shimon HaTzaddik, may his merit protect us, amen. There we poured out our conversation and the bitterness of our hearts in weeping and supplication. From there we went to my father-in-law, of blessed memory, and from there to our home.

At the Western Wall I made the world tremble. I urged everyone I saw—every friend and acquaintance—to arouse mercy for the child. I also spoke with Rabbi Y. Y. and told him the child’s name: “Alter ben Tzion Naftali.” He drew my attention to the fact that the initials form the name Avtzan, and that we were then close to Shavuos, when Ruth is read, while Boaz is identified with Avtzan, as is brought in the sources. On the following day, Wednesday, the neighbor inquired by telephone and was told, “The same condition.”

Thus those days passed over us with abundant weeping and supplication. Every day we performed the lot and pidyonos, recited the names of the tzaddikim, Tehillim, and prayers, and made vows to correct our conduct and to accept our poverty and straitened circumstances with love.

That Thursday was Erev Rosh Chodesh Sivan. Several of our fellow Breslover Chassidim traveled to the tomb of Shmuel HaNavi, for it was the anniversary of his passing, of blessed memory. I knew nothing of this, however, and there was also insufficient time for me to search for people who were traveling. I had never yet been at Ramah, at the tomb of Shmuel HaNavi, may his merit protect us, amen.

After prayer, and after I had completed the pidyon, the lot, and the prayers as on every day, my wife and I hurried to travel to Rachel’s Tomb. There I poured out my conversation with bitter weeping. My wife was unable even to open her mouth because of the profound bitterness of her heart. We hastened to leave so that we could go and visit the child. There we pledged that when Hashem, may He be blessed, would help us and the child would recover, we would return with him to Rachel’s Tomb to thank Hashem, may He be blessed, for His miracles and wonders. We would also kindle olive oil there.

We likewise saw some of our fellow Breslover Chassidim who were traveling to Chevron. I pleaded with them earnestly to arouse mercy at the graves of our holy Patriarchs. I explained that we ourselves could not travel, since we were compelled to go and visit the child. When Hashem, may He be blessed, would help us, however, we would travel together to Chevron and kindle oil there as well.

We then hurried and ran to the hospital. We arrived a quarter of an hour after the time at which visitors had already been admitted. We entered and approached the bed, where we found him lying. As soon as he saw us, he began to weep, and throughout the entire time he sighed with groans of pain. We rejoiced and said, “Blessed be Hashem! We see him crying, and this itself makes us rejoice.” My wife said, “My child, when you weep, I rejoice.” We told him, “Naftali, with the help of Hashem we will take you home alive and well,” and so forth.

We remained sitting there throughout the allotted time. I also showed him the tzitzis, for Rabbainu, of blessed memory, teaches that it is a segulah for a sick person to gaze upon the tzitzis. Blessed be Hashem, we left in a calmer state. Although his weakness and illness were beyond measure, and because of his weakness even his crying was fainter than that of an infant just born, we had at least seen some change for the better, and our hope increased.

We proceeded with greater hope, and I also said that I would buy him a toy with which to play. On our return journey we entered the cave of Shimon HaTzaddik, may his merit protect us, amen, as was our practice. From there we went to my father-in-law, of blessed memory, and informed him that there had been some change, though the child’s weakness was still very great. I also went to the Western Wall and aroused mercy as on every day.

At night we performed our devotions as always and also prepared for Shabbos. On the morning of Rosh Chodesh Sivan I prayed with concentration and afterward performed the pidyonos, and so forth, as on every day. The neighbor inquired by telephone after the child, and they told her, “Better.” This was the first time they had said “better.” She came to bring us the news, and we rejoiced over it.

We knew, however, that abundant mercy beyond the natural order was still required for him to return to full strength. Nevertheless, blessed be Hashem, we received Rosh Chodesh and the Shabbos of Parashas Naso with joy. We also did what lay within our power, without cease, through prayers, petitions, and the other practices as always, particularly during the Shabbos meals, as stated above.