Chassidic Story #261

The Benefits of an Excellent Memory

Rabbi Marcus Lehmann was in a hurry. As head of the delegation slated to meet with the German Minister of Education, he had only 30 minutes to get to the station, from where he and the two other representatives of the Mainz Jewish community would board the train to the capital.

Rabbi Lehmann had already put on his coat when he heard an unfamiliar voice asking to see him immediately. The Rabbi's wife explained that her husband was in a terrible rush and suggested that the visitor come back the following day, but he refused. "No! Tomorrow will be too late. It's absolutely urgent - a matter of life and death!"

The Rabbi ran into the hallway and invited the stranger into his study." Please tell me what the problem is very quickly," he said. "I'm about to leave, and the carriage is already waiting."

"Yes, Rabbi. But first, Shalom Aleichem! Don't you recognize me?" the little white-haired old man asked.

"No, I'm sorry. But please get to the point. I can only give you a minute."

"Yes, Rabbi," the little man said, settling comfortably into a chair. "It is indeed a case of life and death. But I'm surprised that you don't remember me. About a year ago I heard you give a sermon in shul. Ay-ay-ay, what a sermon! Every word you uttered was a gem. I have a good memory, Rabbi. I could repeat it for you, if you'd like."

"My dear friend," Rav Lehmann replied. "Please get to the point. Otherwise, you'll be sitting here by yourself. I must run."

"Alright, Rabbi. This is the story...

"Thirty years ago I married a true 'woman of valor.' For 25 years we lived happily. Then, five years ago, my wife passed away…"

Rav Lehmann was getting annoyed. "If you've come here to ask me to resurrect her, you're wasting my time and your own. Come back tomorrow and I'll be more than happy to listen to your life story. But I simply must leave for the station. My train is departing in a few minutes."

The old man clutched the Rabbi's sleeve. "Please hear me out," he begged. "I assure you, the life of a live person is at stake. Let me continue...

"A few years ago my son moved to America. After my wife died, he asked me to come live with him. I went, but I didn't like it, and I came back. That was a year ago, about the same time I heard your sermon. Ay-ay-ay, what a sermon! Every word was a pearl, a precious gem…"

"Again with the sermon!" the Rabbi cried, looking at his watch.

"All right, I won't mention it again. But just listen to what happened. I arrived home a few days before the brit mila [circumcision] of my grandson, and was given the honor of being sandek [the one who holds the baby]. Unfortunately, the day before the mila the baby got sick and passed away.

"But that isn't why I'm here. Yesterday, my daughter gave birth to another son, and again asked me to be sandek."

"May the brit take place in a good and auspicious time," the Rabbi mumbled, rushing to the door.

"But Rabbi!" the old man persisted. "I'm afraid. Don't you understand? I don't even want to say it aloud, but... Maybe I shouldn't be sandek?"

"So let someone else be sandek!" Rav Lehmann said distractedly as he scrambled into the waiting carriage.

"And the name? What should we name the baby? This is a life-determining matter!"

"You want me to pick a name?" the Rabbi cried, finally losing his patience. "Call him Avraham, Boruch, Chayim, David, Micha, Yerucham, Zerach …"

The Rabbi promised to pay the driver double if they made it in time, but they were too late. As soon as they arrived at the station they heard the train departing.

Rav Lehmann was beside himself. How would he ever excuse his lateness to the Minister? The other members of the delegation, who had waited for him, were amused when they heard the reason for his delay. They decided to take the next train, scheduled to depart in two hours.

When they returned to the station later, the whole place was in a dizzying uproar. The train they had missed had been involved in a terrible accident. Many of the passengers had been killed and dozens were injured. In retrospect, the old man with his rambling story had been an emissary sent from G-d to save their lives!

The Minister had been very worried about Rav Lehmann, and was delighted to learn that he and his colleagues had not been on the ill-fated train. The delegation's mission was conducted successfully.

Two years later, Rav Lehmann passed through a certain village, and all of the townsfolk came out to greet him. Standing at the front of the line was none other than his old friend, the little white-haired man.

"Shalom Aleichem! Do you remember me? A few years ago I heard you give a sermon. Ay-ay-ay, what a sermon!" The old man held a small child in his arms. "This is my grandson, Avraham-Boruch-Chayim-David-Micha-Yerucham-Zerach."

"So many names?" the Rabbi asked in surprise.

"But you yourself said them to me!" the old man replied. "I have an excellent memory. I can even repeat your sermon word for word if you'd like. Ay, was that a sermon!"

[Adapted by Yrachmiel Tilles from the newletter of Rabbi Shlomo Wainer of Durban-Umshlanga on the Rocks, South Africa, "Chabad of the North Coast" <chabadnc@global.co.za>. For the Ascent illustrated version of this story, order Ascent Quarterly # 19 - Autumn 1990, pp.10-11.]