“Do you know whose briefcase this is?!” he asked the driver. “Rabbi Hershel Schachter is the Baba Sali of American Ashkenazim!”

As told to Sandy Eller by Yummy Schachter

I

have no idea why we called for a regular taxi instead of using our usual driver. But on our last night in Yerushalayim, we took a taxi to our hotel to prepare for our flight home the following day.

We were already on the way up to our room when we realized we had left my father’s briefcase in the trunk of the taxi. With his passport inside it.

To be honest, neither of us was concerned that the briefcase was gone forever. We were, after all, in Yerushalayim, and goodhearted Jews have a way of making miraculous things happen in the world’s holiest city. I was confident that some way, somehow, we would see it again soon.

It took just two hours for the briefcase to be located, identified, and returned to us. Apparently, when the next rider hailed the taxi to go to the airport, the driver opened the trunk to load his luggage into it and realized there was already a bag in there. They opened it to see who it belonged to and found my father’s ID. The rider recognized his name.

“Do you know whose briefcase this is?!” he asked the driver. “Rabbi Hershel Schachter is the Baba Sali of American Ashkenazim!”