A Surprising Dream

That Thursday evening, I found him hooked up to the IV, in the midst of a treatment. The illness still required chemotherapy, but his prognosis looks far more promising than it did last year. “And it’s all because of an act of chesed that happened forty-two years ago,” he told me.

“Anyone who knows me knows that I am not one for miracles and dreams. But this really happened to me. At the time, when you asked me for an interview about Rav Shlomo Zalman, my prognosis was grim. They discovered cancer in my colon and the doctors were pessimistic about my chances for recovery.

“I consulted three specialists in the field, all of whom concurred that I needed a radical, complex operation. And my life afterward would be radically different. For me, personally, this was a calamity. I didn’t see myself conducting a normal life after such a surgery. On the other hand, without it, I couldn’t live much longer.”

With 655,000 deaths worldwide per year, colon cancer is the fourth most common form of cancer in the United States, the third leading cause of cancer-related death in the Western world. According to the Israel Cancer Association, nine people are diagnosed with colon cancer every day, while four victims die from the illness each day. Despite the alarming statistics, there is a general lack of awareness of the disease in Israel.

Rav Stern remembers that tense period before his operation: “When I realized that there was no choice, I set a date for the surgery. As the date approached I grew significantly more anxious. I was very frightened of the aftermath.

“Then, on the last Friday night before the surgery, I dreamed a very surprising dream, in which a person who I had last seen forty-two years earlier appeared.”

The Forgotten Kindness

“At the time, forty-two years ago, I was very close to Rav Aryeh Levin, ztz”l, who was a gadol in Torah and famed for his chesed activities. He influenced me and I began to visit elderly people in nursing homes.

“One day I noticed an old man who was clearly in severe pain. I asked if I could help him with anything. He declined.

“‘What hurts you?’ I insisted. He replied that he had not relieved himself for several days and his entire body was wracked with terrible pain as a result.

“I went over to the nurse and told her, ‘There is a man here who has not relieved himself for several days and you aren’t doing anything about it?’ She replied that it was a complicated problem that could only be solved at the hospital and that the treatment would cost a lot of money. ‘The problem is,’ she added, ‘that we’ve contacted his children and told them to take their father to the hospital to be treated. They refuse and claim that the nursing home should be taking care of any treatment necessary, and should even pay for it. The management refuses and the poor old father is in pain and suffering terribly.’

“I decided to take action. I called an ambulance and took the man to the hospital. The doctors took care of him, and the very next day he was able to return to the nursing home. I remember how, before we left the hospital, the doctor who had treated him came over to me and rebuked me for neglecting ‘my father.’ He told me that if we would have waited one more day, the elderly fellow’s heart would have been affected and he could have died. The doctor’s disapproval was very obvious. Fearing a chillul Hashem, I told him that I was just a volunteer and that the man was a total stranger.

“At the time, I was learning in kollel. I received a stipend of 500 liras per month. The ambulance and the treatment cost 300 liras. I appealed to the nursing home management and asked them to give me the details of the old man’s family. I learned that the man was well known and respected, and his family is still renowned today.

“I called the older man’s children and told them what had happened, and asked them to reimburse me. They argued that I had no business intervening in a matter unrelated to me, and that it was the nursing home’s job to make sure that the residents received any medical treatment they needed. They didn’t think they had to pay me for volunteering to do something that they believed the nursing home should have been doing. I told them that it would be okay, and that I would manage on just 200 liras that month to support my family.”

Several weeks passed. Each time Reb Yechiel Michel would visit the old man, the fellow would thank him profusely for the chesed he had done. “One morning I noticed that he was in pain again. I quickly learned that the problem had recurred — as had the argument between the nursing home and the children. I decided to do as I had done earlier, and once again I summoned an ambulance and brought him to the hospital, paying all the expenses. The man was treated and returned to the nursing home. This repeated itself five or six times, until the final time, the sons sent one of the sons-in-law to pay me for the expenses of that time. From that point on, they took care of their father’s problem.

“Personally, I forgot about the whole thing. But now, forty years later, the man appeared to me in the dream. ‘I have learned of the terrible suffering you are experiencing. I came before the beis din On High and said, “How is it possible that a person who did such a pure chesed with me should be afflicted in the same organ he helped me heal?” The beis din accepted my argument, and I have come to tell you that you will survive the surgery and your life will not change as a result.’”

A Miracle Within a Miracle

Even now, as Rav Yechiel Michel retells the experience, he cannot conceal his emotions. Despite the fact that his hand is connected to an IV, he looks happy and is grateful to Hashem for every moment of his relatively normal life.

“The man disappeared and I woke up. I remembered the dream and the man’s face very well, and I sensed that it was a dream that I should take seriously. I understood that the operation would succeed and I would not have to change my lifestyle. From that moment on I felt at peace, and that peace has continued to reign in my life since then.

“My children who came a few hours later found a completely different father than the one they had left the night before. I was completely calm; I sang Shabbos zmiros and I was clearly elated. Of course, they asked what had happened, and I told them about my dream. I told them I was confident that it would all come true.

“I told them that Shabbos that the words that we say in davening, “zocher kol hanishkachos” He remembers all that is forgotten, were being fulfilled with me and I had a new understanding of them. Hashem repays a person even for an act of chesed that he himself has forgotten about. Even if a person does not see the remuneration right away, he will receive his reward at some point.

“The operation was successful, as I was promised in my dream. I remember how the three doctors came to me after the surgery and told me that there had been a miracle. They were shocked to discover that despite the disease, there was no need to remove any vital organs, and that my body could continue functioning normally.”

What’s the situation today?

“I am recovering from the operation, and I still undergo treatment to target any remaining traces of the disease. I still need rachamei Shamayim, because I am not yet completely healthy.

“I visited gedolei Yisrael after the operation. They were extremely impressed at what I shared with them and told me it was incumbent upon me to publicize the story, the chesed that Hashem does with His creations, and how He always repays a person for what he does.”

May I ask a personal question?

“I don’t promise to answer it.”

As you noted, you are undergoing chemotherapy. This usually results in the loss of hair. Yet your beard looks long and full, and even the hair on your head is full and thick. Is this also a miracle?

The Rav smiles. “Actually, that’s a miracle as well. Before I began treatment I was informed that it would cause hair loss. I traveled to Rav Chaim Kanievsky and told him that my hair would probably fall out from the treatment, and I asked for a brachah.

“Rav Chaim asked me if I had ever shaved my beard. I told him I hadn’t. He told me to go to the Kosel and daven. ‘Tell Hashem that until now, you safeguarded your beard and from now on, you are giving over its care to Him.’

“I traveled straight from Bnei Brak to the Kosel and did as he had instructed me. Baruch Hashem, as you can see, not a hair has fallen out from my beard.” He strokes his beard as he speaks.

“Careful,” I say instinctively, and Rav Yechiel Michel Stern just smiles conspiratorially.

A Chain of Miracles

I was told that you related this miraculous story to Rav Elyashiv

“As a talmid of Rav Elyashiv, I frequently consulted him before the surgery. After the operation, I was weak and didn’t leave the house much. To my surprise, one day, a grandson of Rav Elyashiv called me and said: ‘My grandfather has asked several times how you are doing and we didn’t know what to answer.’ I told him I would come the next day, and I did. I told over my dream and everything I had been through and what was still ahead of me.”

How did he react?

“He said that I am with a person who has often experienced nissim, miracles.

What does that refer to? And why did he say it in plural?

Rav Stern looks at his watch, although I am uncertain whether he is trying to hint to me that it is late already or if he just wants to see how much time he has left. Then he replies: “I experienced several miracles related to my health, which were also connected to chesed. Aside for writing seforim, I am busy with other things, among them kiruv work. Several years ago, on the first day of Chol HaMoed Succos, I traveled to Haifa to deliver a lecture. The arrangement was that I would travel back on the train from Haifa to Tel Aviv.

“In the middle of the trip I began to feel very unwell. Some of the passengers on the train noticed how pale I was and asked if everything was okay. I told them I did not feel well. The train was far from any proper city so an announcement was made on the PA asking if there was a doctor on board. Two senior cardiologists from Western Galilee Hospital — Nahariya were on the train. They came over and diagnosed a serious heart attack and immediately began to treat me.

“They also ordered the train to travel backward for ten minutes so an ambulance could meet it and take me to the nearest hospital, which was in Kfar Saba. The treatment that they administered right away, the instructions they gave for continued treatment, and the angioplasty that I subsequently had, saved my life.”

And there were other incidents?

Rav Yechiel Michel sighs, but continues to speak: “Another case was when I wanted to publish my Shaarei Taharah seforim but was short one thousand dollars. In those years, that was a tremendous sum. A day before the seforim were scheduled to go to print, I traveled to the Kosel and asked Hashem to send me the missing money. I walked back through the part of the Old City still considered safe at the time. As I walked, I noticed an old man lying on the floor. I hurried over and offered to help him get up. In the short conversation I had with him, I learned that he had slipped and could not get up.

“I gave him a cup of water and then held his hand, and together we walked out of the Old City. He told me that he lived on Achad HaAm Street in Jerusalem and I offered to escort him home. He agreed. He walked silently all the way, without saying a word. As we approached his street, he asked who I was and what I did. I told him my name. Then he asked me if I knew a certain person, and I told him that I did.

“We parted at the door of his home and I went on my way. When I came home my wife told me that a certain person — the same one the man had asked about — had looked for me and asked that I call him as soon as I came home. I called. ‘Do you know who you picked up from the floor today in the Old City?’ he asked me. I was flabbergasted. ‘How do you know what happened? I didn’t even tell my wife yet!’

“‘Well, the man in question phoned me and told me about it, and he wants to reward you. Is there something he can help with?’ the caller asked. I told him that I had come back from the Kosel where I had prayed for money to print my sefer. The man promised to look into it. A few minutes later he called back and told me to that he was escorting me to the home of the old man I’d helped. There I discovered that he was none other than Reb Yosef [Joseph] Tanenbaum, one of the biggest philanthropists and supporters of Torah at the time. He gave me the money I needed to print the sefer.”

They Will Ask to Learn Torah — From His Mouth

“One sefer that I printed, Pninei Kedem al HaTorah, includes divrei Torah from gedolim who perished in the Holocaust. These were tremendous Torah giants whose divrei Torah are quoted in various seforim without a source, because they never published their own works. I decided to try and redeem those divrei Torah.

“I spent a long time in different libraries, perusing ancient volumes. Some had been printed with wooden blocks, which made the letters very hard to read. After a lot of work, I was able to compile enough material for two volumes. I printed a thousand sets, assuming that the seforim would be very popular. I distributed them to the stores and waited for them to sell out. Several weeks passed and the seforim dealers began calling for me to come and pick up the seforim because there was no demand for them.

“This was a tremendous loss for me financially, not to mention the time I had invested in compiling the material. I traveled to the Kosel and davened for help. In my distress, I asked: ‘Where are those gedolei Torah whose Torah I rescued and commemorated for generations to come? If I wouldn’t have brought their Torah to light, who would know of them? Why don’t they come and help me now?’

“I finished davening and returned home. As soon as I walked in, my wife told me that someone had phoned several times to speak to me. I called the phone number he’d left and the man invited me to meet him at the Concord Hotel. There he introduced himself and told me that his son was getting married in a month. He had ‘happened’ to see my sefer, Pninei Kedem al Hatorah, and he wanted to give it to all the wedding guests as a memento.”

Ever humble, Reb Yechiel Michel told the man that the sefer had been very unpopular in the stores. But the man insisted. “He paid for the 940 copies on the spot, full price. I quickly collected the sets from the stores and shipped them abroad.”

Incidentally, the sefer was very well received at the wedding and demand began to rise. “Since then, it’s gone through several printings, and it is still in demand.

“I have experienced several such stories,” Reb Yechiel Michel continues. “That is what Rav Elyashiv meant when he said I had regularly experienced nissim.”

Our time has run out and the Rav is clearly tired. I turn to leave, still caught up in the amazing chain of miracles he’s described.

Reb Yechiel Michel escorts me out. Near the door he says, “Remember, an act of chesed is always returned. The fact that you are helping me fulfill my promise to publicize my miracle is also an act of chesed.”

Apparently, the man who is so attuned to chesed opportunities also discerns chesed in other people’s actions.

I Shall Hear His Cries

The Orphan’s Esrog

Anyone who knows Rav Yechiel Michel Stern knows that his acts of chesed abound. Each year, during the months of Elul and Tishrei, people stream to his home in Ezras Torah with lulavim and esrogim, seeking his opinion. He receives each person as though their lulav or esrog is the first he has seen that day.

He is considered the expert in the field. His sefer Kashrus Arbaas HaMinim, which was published twenty-two years ago, has become a mandatory guide for every young yeshivah bochur, or anyone seeking to purchase his own set of arba minim. As he wrote the sefer, the Rav spent days and nights reading other seforim and meeting with botanical exerts. The resulting sefer was the first halachah sefer to include color photographs.

“It wasn’t easy to find all the types of lulavim and esrogim,” he tells Mishpacha. “The biggest problem was the different kinds of esrogim. I spoke with different dealers and one of them referred me to an orchard owner who had discovered a rare esrog. I contacted him and he told me that in his orchard, he had seen only two types of esrogim I wished to photograph. When I came, I found that the orchard had all eight types that I was seeking. The orchard owner was so surprised, while I learned that Hashem helps anyone looking to help benefit the public.”

Are the questions usually just mehudar/not mehudar/kosher for a brachah or are there deeper questions?

“Usually those are the types of questions. But sometimes I have to pay attention to the questioner. Several years ago a little boy came to me with a pasul esrog. He returned a few hours later with another nonkosher esrog, and then again. The third time I asked him, ‘Why are you buying the esrogim on your own? Maybe you should ask your father to go with you.’ The boy was silent for a moment and then said, ‘My father died three months ago. I have no one to go with me.’”

A moment later, the elated orphan left the house with Rav Yechiel Michel’s own lulav and esrog in his hand.

This story takes on further significance when you take into account that Rav Yechiel Michel’s esrog (a “Shechemer esrog”) is a product of the offspring of two beautiful esrog trees in Shechem, whose fruits served the gedolim and rabbanim of Jerusalem in generations past. After the Six Day War, Rav Yechiel Michel and several friends traveled to meet the descendent of the Palestinian farmer who had planted the trees, and they saw that the trees had remained intact. They received cuttings from the trees and one of them was planted on Moshav Beit Meir, where Rav Yechiel Michel picks his esrog each year.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Magazine)