Weekly Chasidic Story #1427 (5785-29) 16 Nissan 5785 (April 14, 2025) "Drowning in The Sea"When I was six years old, at the beach, sitting on a sandbar, I was pulled into and submerged in the water. I wasn't afraid, though. I saw in my mind's eye a farmer, chasing after animals. Looking back, I realize that I had been in danger of drowning, but at the time, I was not afraid. I was watching cartoons! Why this week? The festival of the Seventh Day of Passover celebrates the Crossing of the Reed Sea by hundreds of thousands of Jews [who survived and tens of thousands of Egyptians who didn't.] Story in PDF format for more convenient printing. Drowning in the Sea
The water was very calm. I was sitting on a sandbar, building castles. Since it was so hot, my sister decided to get us both ice creams. There were many lifeguards at the beach and my sister asked the closest lifeguard if he would watch me for the few minutes that she would be gone. The lifeguard agreed and I continued to play without a care in the world, building my droopy sand castles with a shovel and pail. I was happy. What child wouldn't be? I was at the beach, playing in the sand, and my sister would be back in a few minutes with an ice cream! Suddenly, the sandbar shifted. I was pulled into the water. I wasn't afraid, though. It seemed to me like a fun ride at the amusement park. And then the lights went out. I saw in my mind's eye a farmer, chasing after animals. I shouted, "No, no. I don't like that." After all, he was harming the innocent animals and that wasn't nice! Looking back now I realize that the lights going out was due to a lack of oxygen and I was in danger of drowning. But at the time, I was not afraid. I was watching cartoons! Before I knew it, the lights were on again. Above the water, I even let out a laugh before I was pulled back down under the water once more. This time, when the lights went out, I saw a man in a red suit with white hair and a white beard. "No, that's not my holiday," I said. "I don't want to watch this one." I was pushed up to the surface again and then pulled back under once more. The third time, I saw a vision of a holy man. He was wearing what looked like some kind of white sheet. I had seen my grandfather wear something like that when he was at the synagogue. I was a little afraid, because I knew the man was a zeidy (grandpa) but he was not my zeidy. The man spoke in English but with some Yiddish words. I knew a few Yiddish words from my zeidy. The man said, "Give me dein hentala now." ("Give me your hand now.") I didn't want to give the man my hand because he was a stranger and I had been taught not to talk to strangers. Then the man spoke again, more insistently, "I am a Jew like you, give me dein hentala now." I obeyed and reached out my hand toward the man. At that moment, the lifeguard grabbed my hand which was above the water and pulled me out. I don't know how much time passed because I went unconscious. But when I came to, the lifeguard was squeezing the ocean out of me. I opened my eyes and there were a whole group of people, including my sister and a number of lifeguards, surrounding me. The lifeguard who had been pumping the water out of me, held up his fingers in front of my eyes and asked me how many fingers he had. I scolded him. "You're a life guard, you're supposed to know how many fingers you have!" Then I saw my sister. The ice creams were dripping but I was glad to see her and the ice cream! Now they turned their attention to my sister. How long had she been gone? How could she have left me all by myself? My sister answered them angrily. "I left her with you," and she pointed to the lifeguard who had agreed to watch out for me. They questioned the lifeguard who admitted that he had seen me, but when he had looked in my direction I laughed, so he turned his attention to swimmers in the deeper area. As memorable as the experience was at the time, I eventually forgot about it. Time passed. I married and had a little girl of my own. I was taking steps toward getting more involved in Jewish observance. My daughter attended public school and went to an afternoon Hebrew school. One day, when I went to pick her up at the Hebrew School, I saw a flyer that said in big letters, "T.N.T." Underneath, it stated, "Torah Never Terminates: What are you doing with your child for the summer?" The flyer shook me. It was advertising the Li Ohr day camp, run by the Yahadus Center, directed by Rabbi Sholom Ber and Frida Schapiro. The Center was established by N.C.F.J.E. under the auspices of the Lubavitcher Rebbe. The camp was to be held at the local Young Israel synagogue. I decided to enroll my daughter. When I got to the synagogue, there were a number of other pamphlets from the Yahadus Center. I picked up a brochure and saw a picture of a rabbi praying in a tallit. I nearly fainted. The memory of what had taken place 30 years earlier passed before my eyes. The Lubavitcher Rebbe was the holy man, the zeidy, who had saved me when I was drowning as a child! That day was the beginning of my involvement with the Rebbe and Chabad. With the help of a tutor over the summer, my daughter caught up enough in her Jewish studies to be able to attend the Hebrew Academy in the fall. We became close with the Schapiro family and with Mrs. Schapiro's parents, Rabbi Nissan and Necha Mindel. There are many, many more stories to tell. But suffice it to say, today, I am the proud mother, grandmother and great-grandmother of, thank G-d, many children who observe Torah and mitzvot (commandments), thanks to the Lubavitcher Rebbe. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Why this week? The festival of the Seventh Day of Passover celebrates the Crossing of the Reed Sea by hundreds of thousands of Jews [who survived and tens of thousands of Egyptians who didn't.]
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