A
Dream Comes True
By
Avrohom Jacobson
The
Rebbe Rayatz had just told him, “Yankel, make sure to chazer the
maamer ‘VaHarikosi Lachem Bracha,’” when he felt someone
shaking his shoulder and he woke up… * For years Rabbi Yankel
Lipsker searched for such a maamer, but no one knew what he was
talking about. It was only years later in Paris, that the Rebbe
Melech HaMoshiach solved
the mystery.
Kutaisi,
the Georgian Republic. Shabbos Kodesh, 18 Adar 5702 (March 7,
1942). The
skies over the Central Asian city of Kutaisi were overcast as
Shabbos descended. It was a cold and rainy winter night. One by
one, the lights in the windows of the buildings flickered and went
out. The city of Kutaisi slept.
In
a small house at the edge of the city, R’ Yankel Lipsker was
making his final preparations before going to sleep. After saying Kriyas
Shma, slowly and with kavana, as befits a Lubavitcher
Chassid, R’ Yankel conducted a careful cheshbon ha’nefesh
and then made his way to bed.
But
sleep would be long in coming. R’ Yankel’s heart was heavy
with the knowledge that thousands of miles away, a cruel, terrible
war was being waged against his brethren. Rumors had reached
Kutaisi of millions of Jewish dead, may G-d protect us. How could
he sleep when he was so consumed with worry and anguish?
R’
Yankel was one of the lucky ones, having managed to take refuge in
Kutaisi. But even there it was dangerous, filled with agents of
the K.G.B. who were determined to obliterate the Jewish faith.
Life
was very difficult in Kutaisi. R’ Yankel, like the other
Lubavitchers who had fled to Central Asia, knew that they must
never capitulate to the Communists. Before leaving Russia, the
Rebbe Rayatz had encouraged his Chassidim to remain strong and
never give in to the winds of heresy that were blowing across the
Soviet Union.
R’
Yankel himself had never seen the Rebbe. When the Rebbe left
Russia in Tishrei of 5688 (1927), R’ Yankel was only a young
boy. More than 14 years had passed since then…
R’
Yankel’s mind was racing, all his thoughts and worries jumbled
together. But eventually sheer exhaustion took over, and his
eyelids closed of their own accord. R’ Yankel fell into a deep
sleep.
He
began to dream, vivid dreams that transported him far away, to a
place where a Jew could walk the streets without fear that every
passing car was filled with secret police.
R’
Yankel suddenly found himself standing on a broad, busy avenue,
looking up at a red brick building crowned by three triangular
peaks. The tops of the pointed roofs were white, and beckoned like
points of light.
For
some reason R’ Yankel felt himself drawn to the building and he
walked over. Standing on the threshold, he could hear people
singing Chassidic niggunim on the second floor. When he
opened the door and walked inside, it felt as if he were being
pulled by an unseen force. Making his way through an entrance
hall, he quickly climbed a flight of stairs to the second story
and walked down a short hallway. At the doorway to a large room he
stopped, too shocked by what he was seeing to continue.
Dozens
of Chassidim were sitting and singing Chassidic niggunim,
melodies that stirred his heart and penetrated his soul. R’
Yankel had never experienced such overwhelming emotion.
R’
Yankel entered the room and sat down, when suddenly the room went
silent. All eyes were on the doorway as a tall bachur
wheeled the Rebbe Rayatz into the room in a wheelchair.
R’
Yankel had never set eyes on the Rebbe, but he had no doubt that
it was he. He studied the Rebbe’s holy face, trying to imprint
every nuance and subtlety on his memory.
The
Rebbe’s chair was wheeled over to the table and the farbrengen
began. R’ Yankel could not make out the Rebbe’s words very
clearly. He did, however, hear the Rebbe distinctly tell him,
“Yankel, make sure to chazer the maamer ‘Va’harikosi
Lachem Bracha,’” when suddenly he felt someone shaking his
shoulder. He awoke with a start, drenched in sweat.
R’
Yankel’s wife was tugging at his arm, trying to waken him. He
looked at her with half-closed eyes, desperately trying to retain
the last images of his wonderful dream. “Yankel, get up!” she
whispered. “The baby is coming…”
In
a split second R’ Yankel returned to reality. As it turned out,
there wasn’t time to reach the hospital, and R’ Yankel’s
wife delivered a healthy baby boy at home. At his bris
eight days later, the baby was named Shalom Dov Ber, after the
Rebbe Rashab. R’ Yankel had planned on naming him after his
grandfather, but in the wake of his powerful dream he changed his
mind and decided to name him after the Rebbe Rayatz’s father.
For
a long time afterward the Rebbe’s words still echoed in his
ears: “Yankel, make sure to chazer the maamer ‘Va’harikosi
Lachem Bracha.’” He repeated the dream to numerous friends
and relatives, but no one had ever heard of a maamer by
that name.
Among
the Chassidim in Kutaisi was a bachur who had once studied
in the Lubavitcher Yeshiva Tomchei Tmimim in Leningrad, and had
actually merited to meet the Rebbe Rayatz. He asked R’ Yankel to
describe the dream to him, sparing no details. “Well,” he said
when he had heard the entire dream, “there’s one thing that
doesn’t make sense. You said that the Rebbe was being wheeled in
a wheelchair, and I don’t remember him being that ill. Of
course, the intervening years could have taken their toll. But the
face you describe is that of an old man, and the Rebbe isn’t
that old! I don’t believe that the person you saw in your dream
is really the Rebbe.
“But
the strangest thing about your dream is the name of the maamer,”
he concluded. “Most maamarim of our Rebbeim begin with a pasuk
or saying of Chazal, and are based on previous maamarim.
For that reason alone your dream is peculiar, because there just
aren’t any maamarim starting with those words.”
R’
Yankel was discouraged, but he refused to give up hope. His dream
had been so lifelike and vivid that it had to be true.
Paris,
Winter of 5707 (1947). After
several years of suffering, the Lipsker family finally left the
Soviet Union. In the winter of 1947 they arrived in Paris, where
they joined the large community of other Russian Lubavitchers who
had already emigrated.
There
were many distinguished Chassidim living in Paris. One time R’
Yankel, who had never forgotten his dream, asked the famous Rabbi
Schneur Zalman Schneerson if he was familiar with a maamer
beginning with the words “Va’harikosi Lachem Bracha.”
R’
Schneur Zalman smiled. “Perhaps you mean the niggun ‘Va’harikosi
Lachem Bracha,’ he said, and proceeded to hum a few bars.
“No, I’m serious,” R’ Yankel said. “I’m talking about
a maamer.”
But
R’ Schneur Zalman, like the others, was unfamiliar with it. The
news was very distressing. If a Chassid of the stature of R’
Schneur Zalman had never heard of it, then perhaps it didn’t
really exist.
Paris,
Summer of 5707 (1947). At
the end of Adar 5707 the Rebbe Melech HaMoshiach arrived in Paris
to meet his mother, Rebbetzin Chana, o.b.m., from whom he had been
separated for decades. The Rebbe would remain in Paris for three
months. As soon as he arrived he asked R’ Yankel to be his shamash,
the latter being overjoyed to accept the position.
One
of R’ Yankel’s primary duties was to provide the Rebbe with
kosher food. R’ Yankel’s wife prepared the meals, and every
day at 11:00 a.m. R’ Yankel brought them over to the Rebbe’s
hotel.
Toward
the end of his stay in Paris, the Rebbe offered R’ Yankel 5,000
francs as payment for his services, but R’ Yankel was aghast. He
refused to take the money. “If I had known that you wouldn’t
accept payment,” the Rebbe said, “I never would have troubled
you so much.” “If I had know that you intended to pay me,”
R’ Yankel replied, “I never would have agreed to be your shamash.”
In the end a compromise was reached: R’ Yankel would accept the
money, but give it to tzedaka. The Rebbe then asked him to
bring it home to his wife, so the two of them could perform the mitzva
of tzedaka together. The Rebbe also presented R’
Yankel’s wife with a bound edition of Likkutei Dibburim.
In
the course of serving as the Rebbe’s shamash, R’ Yankel
decided that he would ask the Rebbe about his dream. Indeed, it
was a golden opportunity, for who better than the Rebbe’s
son-in-law, the Ramash, as he was then known, would be in a
position to tell him? It took several days for R’ Yankel to
muster up his courage, but one day, after delivering the food, he
remained in the doorway and asked the Rebbe if he could ask him a
question. The Rebbe turned to him expectantly.
“Perhaps
you know of a maamer beginning with the words ‘Va’harikosi
Lachem Bracha?’” R’ Yankel inquired.
The
Rebbe was very surprised by the question. “Tzulib vos darft
ir vissen?” (Why do you need to know?)
R’
Yankel was evasive, not really wishing to repeat his strange dream
to the Rebbe. But the Rebbe was persistent, and asked him several
times why he wanted to know. R’ Yankel felt as if he were
turning back the clock as the wonderful dream came pouring out of
him. Again he was flooded by the extraordinary sensation of being
in the Rebbe Rayatz’s holy presence, with the Rebbe’s parting
comment to him echoing in his ears, “Yankel, make sure to chazer
the maamer ‘Va’harikosi Lachem Bracha.’”
The
Rebbe was staring at R’ Yankel so intently it felt as if he too
were participating in the dream. When he finished his recitation,
the Rebbe asked him to repeat it again.
R’
Yankel, encouraged by the Rebbe’s interest, then told him about
a different dream he had once had concerning the revelation of
Moshiach.
Without
saying anything, the Rebbe walked over to a corner of the room and
opened a small suitcase. He took out a yellowing publication and
handed it to R’ Yankel. It was a copy of HaKriya VehaKedusha
dated Teives 5703 in which the Rebbe Rayatz’s maamer “Va’harikosi
Lachem Bracha” was printed.
R’
Yankel, stunned by the realization of his dream, then heard the
Rebbe say, “S’iz bai mir a peleh! Der maamer is
ersht geven, un ir hot shoyn fun im gevust.” (This is
truly remarkable! The maamer had just been [printed] and
you were already aware of it.)
New
York, 5708 (1948). The
happy ending to this story took place the following year when R’
Yankel and his family arrived in New York. R’ Yankel was about
to enter 770 for the first time in his life.
But
it wasn’t really the first time, of that he was sure. The red
brick building was exactly as he had seen it in his dream.
In
fact, every detail was the same, even the room where the farbrengen
with the Rebbe Rayatz was about to begin. And when the door opened
and a tall bachur wheeled the Rebbe Rayatz inside in a
wheelchair, he recognized him immediately. It was the same bachur.
The farbrengen commenced.
As
R’ Yankel looked at the Rebbe Rayatz’s holy countenance, his
long-ago vision was superimposed on reality. Yes, this was not the
first time he was seeing him. The Rebbe looked exactly as he had
in the dream, his holy face expressing deep pain and pure faith as
one.
“When
Hashem returns the captivity of Tziyon, we will have been
as dreamers…”
(With
thanks to Rabbi Chaim Shalom Dov Ber Lipsker of Crown Heights. The
maamer “Va’harikosi Lachem Bracha” is printed in the Yiddish
Seifer Maamarim.)