Chapter 95

I sat and remained there for a short while. Afterward I left with the children and returned home. I took my older son, may his light shine, and we went to Damascus Gate, where we traveled to the Mount of Olives. We went to the tomb of the holy Ohr HaChaim, where men and women were already present. I prostrated myself at the holy tomb and recited Tikkun Haklali there with weeping, as well as other prayers and Tehillim with weeping and arousal. I remained there for some time with my son, may his light shine.

I likewise offered praise and thanksgiving to Hashem, may He be blessed, for His kindness to us in healing the child. I said that with the help of Hashem, may He be blessed, on that day I would fulfill the undertaking I had vowed—to make a meal on the anniversary of the passing of the holy Ohr HaChaim. I remained there for some time and poured out my conversation with repentance and arousal.

From there we went upon the Mount of Olives to the grave of my grandfather—my father’s father, may his light shine—to the grave of my mother-in-law, and to the graves of my young daughter, of blessed memory, and my son, of blessed memory. From there we returned through the cemetery near the Ohr HaChaim, of blessed memory, where many people were present.

There was an elderly man whose mind was cheerful, and I recognized that he was a joyous person—a lively being. He gathered several people to go together to the Waters of Shiloach, to the mikvah of Rabbi Yishmael Kohen Gadol, in order to immerse there; someone had presumably told him about it. They said that they did not know where to go and required a guide to accompany them. He asked whether I knew the way. I answered that I did and showed them where to go. He was not satisfied, however, unless I accompanied them. I had not at all intended to go with them, for I wished to remain longer at the graves of the tzaddikim and then return home.

This cheerful elderly man, however, would not leave me. He took hold of my hand and, while speaking, linked his arm with mine; in his other hand he held a walking stick. Ben poras Yosef—may no evil eye befall him—he walked with greater alacrity and strength than I did. Many other people accompanied us. I first went with them to the tomb of the Pri Chadash. From there we went to the tomb of Zechariah the Prophet, Absalom’s Monument, and Beis HaChofshis—the House of Freedom. At the tomb of Zechariah the Prophet we recited several chapters of Tehillim and remained for a short while presenting petitions. From there we descended to the tomb of Rabbainu Kalonymus. Today the holy tomb can scarcely be recognized, for it lies along the road and has been absorbed into the roadway constructed there. From there we continued directly until we reached the aforementioned mikvah of Rabbi Yishmael Kohen Gadol. We descended there, saw it, and washed our faces.

We also wished to immerse there, but we could not, because Arab women were drawing water from the place. We wished each to give one grush to an Arab man so that he would sit and guard outside, preventing the women from entering to draw water until we emerged. He demanded a large sum, however, and we turned back. I wished to return along the road to the cemetery and continue from there. My son, may his light shine, however, said that he remembered going with our fellow Breslover Chassidim on the night of Shavuos to immerse in this mikvah. From there they had gone directly from the valley up the mountain, and the distance had been short. He suggested that we do the same now, and the elderly man agreed.

We proceeded directly and climbed the mountain. There was no path at all, only stones, rocks, thorns, and so forth. Many times we nearly stumbled and fell from the height of the mountain, and we also became entangled among the thorns. The elderly man walked joyfully and humorously, entertaining us. He told us how he lived in Tel Aviv and how he played shpitzlach—little tricks—on many secular Jews who walked through the marketplace without hats, until they became embarrassed, whereupon he gave them hats to wear, and so forth.

A long time therefore passed before we finally succeeded in climbing the mountain and reached the road leading to Dung Gate. We came as far as Dung Gate, but it was closed, so we proceeded upward to Tzion Gate. We said that since we were already there, we should go to the tomb of King David, peace be upon him; perhaps the non-Jews would permit us to enter.

We went there and prevailed upon the guard, giving him one grush from each person. We entered the place into which people are admitted on Shavuos and recited Tehillim there. We remained for approximately half an hour with arousal and prayer and left joyfully. I rejoiced within my heart that I had merited being at the graves of the kings of the House of David, may they rest in peace. My son, may his light shine, and I joyfully took leave of the elderly man and his company with handshakes. They went toward Jaffa Gate, while we went directly home, joyfully, through Tzion Gate, which was open.

We began preparing to make the meal I had pledged, as stated above. We purchased fish and meat. My wife cooked the fish with potatoes, which were inexpensive at that time. She also cooked the meat and prepared soup. Benches were brought from the neighbors, and we prepared everything, spreading a tablecloth upon the table. I went to the Western Wall, prayed Minchah, and invited our fellow Breslover Chassidim to come.

Rabbi Shlomo Wexler, may his light shine, was likewise holding his annual meal for the yahrtzeit of the holy Ohr HaChaim at that time. It was therefore difficult to obtain our fellow Breslover Chassidim as guests. Nevertheless, they subsequently came, as did several Sephardim. We ate the meal together. It was a proper meal in accordance with the requirements of halachah. We drank a small quantity of spirits, sang zemiros, and related the miracles of Hashem, may He be blessed.

Poor people likewise attended the meal, and we joyfully drew them near with food and drink. For the principal matter at a time of celebration is to gladden the hearts of the poor, since this is, as it were, Hashem’s own portion of the meal, as is brought in the Zohar and the sacred works. We studied a little from the works of Rabbainu, of blessed memory, and recited Bircas HaMazon with a zimmun of ten over a cup of wine. We concluded the meal at the time for Maariv and went from there to pray Maariv. Blessed be Hashem, I rejoiced in my portion, for I had merited until then to fulfill the vows I had made during the distress of my son’s illness, may his light shine. Blessed be Hashem, I had merited fulfilling the vows joyfully; blessed be Hashem that we had merited this.