EVEN MIRACLES COME IN THREES

R’ Yosef Yisroel HaKohen Ehrentreu is a well-known figure in the Chabad community of Tzfas. By his own choice, he remained in Crown Heights with the Rebbe for six years, during which he saw, heard, and felt the holiness of the nasi ha’dor. This is the first time that R’ Yosef has publicized these three incredible miracle stories he experienced with the Rebbe, each one with its own thrilling finale.

Translated by Michoel Leib Dobry, Photos by Moshe Asulin

Everyone in the Chabad community of the Holy City of Tzfas knows R’ Yosef Yisroel HaKohen Ehrentreu . He has run the “Galgal HaKodesh” Judaica store, located at the entrance to the Old City, for many years. The store is more than your average place of business. It often appears that the store serves as a branch of the Chabad House.

You can find R’ Yosef with his eternal smile and radiant cordiality at any hour of the day, shifting between his business activities and an energetic conversation with a group of Jewish tourists. He listens, talks passionately about Yiddishkait, and directs visitors to Chabad centers in their respective places of residence. Similarly, he operates a t’fillin stand and sells letters in the Seifer Torah in his store.

We recently had an opportunity to sit together with him and we were amazed to hear three fascinating miracle stories that he had personally experienced because of the brachos of the Rebbe, Melech HaMoshiach. Despite the many years that have passed since these stories occurred, it seems that they live with him forever emblazoned in his memory, as he asks that we record every detail with great precision.

THE ARAB DOCTOR, A DESCENDANT OF THE ALTER REBBE

“Until the age of three, my motor development was excellent. According to my family, I spoke normally and clearly. However, this all changed when I turned three. My mother suddenly passed away, and this apparently caused a trauma that affected my speech. While I was able to speak, I began to stutter heavily, and it would often take several long seconds before I managed to get a word or a sentence out of my mouth. During the early years of my childhood, my father and family members tried to help me through various modes of treatments and support, but to no avail.

“As such a problem never existed in my family history before, the doctors and other medical experts rejected any genetically-based diagnosis. Instead, they attributed it to the traumatic experience that I had endured as a young child.

“In 5741, my father traveled to Beis Chayeinu and was privileged to go in for a yechidus with the Rebbe. I was after my bar-mitzvah, and my father was very concerned for my future. Naturally, this was one of the questions and requests that came up during the yechidus, and the Rebbe replied that swimming was one of the most effective tools to relieve stammering.

“Later, after my father returned from 770, I longed to invest my free time in giving my fellow Jews the privilege of putting on t’fillin. I had already become connected to all matters pertaining to the Rebbe’s mitzvah campaigns. However, there was one problem: I was worried that my persistent stutter would deter people from agreeing to put on t’fillin when asked by me. That same year, during the month of Shvat, my father visited the Rebbe again. Before he left, I gave him a letter to be delivered to the Rebbe, requesting a bracha that my stammer should not interfere with my ability to go out on mivtzaim.

“At the time, we were living in Bat Yam. The local Chabad House was bustling with outreach activities and many people passed through its doors. After I sent the letter to the Rebbe, I came to the Chabad House and offered Jews the opportunity to put on t’fillin. Amazingly, every time I was involved with mitzvah campaign activities, the stammer disappeared as if there had never been one. Yet, when I went back to my mundane pursuits, the stammer returned. When I told this to those around me, they teased me for my foolishness in asking the Rebbe for a bracha to stop stammering only on mivtzaim, instead of asking for a bracha to speak clearly under all circumstances.

“I answered everyone with the Talmudic idiom ‘If you have seized a lot, you have not seized,’ yet people continued to rebuke me.

“In 5742, I went to learn at Yeshivas ‘Toras Emes’ in Yerushalayim. My stammer was making things difficult for me socially, so I decided to write to the Rebbe again, and this time, I requested a bracha that the stammer should stop completely. I described the problems I was enduring and asked that I should be able to speak clearly.

“The Rebbe’s answer was not long in coming. The Rebbe wrote that to the best of his knowledge, there was a doctor living in Yerushalayim’s Katamon neighborhood who was an expert in this field, and the Rebbe suggested that I consult with this doctor. I was happy to receive a detailed answer, and I immediately went out in search of this individual. I asked everyone I possibly could, but no one seemed to know such a doctor. I even inquired among those in the medical profession and others knowledgeable in the field, yet none had heard of this expert speech therapist in Katamon. I had almost given up, when help came from an unexpected source. I along with several bachurim were sitting together and talking in the beis midrash – or more accurately, they were talking and I was trying to talk.

“After this chat, one of the older bachurim in this group, Yisroel H., came up to me. He said that he heard my stuttering, and he wanted me to know that he had the same problem in the past. The person who had helped him to overcome this difficulty was an expert in speech therapy living in Yerushalayim’s Katamon neighborhood. I jumped for joy upon hearing this. I told him about the letter I had received from the Rebbe and the long yet unsuccessful search that followed. He gave me the exact address where this doctor was located and I immediately left to visit her.

“The doctor agreed to help me, and over a period of time, I came to her home once a week and saw a marked improvement in my speech. I found that I was often able to speak clearly without stammering, and my self-confidence grew.

“One day, I noticed that the doctor had a Christian sign around her neck. I was horrified.  When I asked her why she was wearing this symbol, she amazed me by saying that she wasn’t Jewish, adding that she came from an Arab family. I then asked why she was living in a Jewish neighborhood, and to my astonishment, she told me that she was a descendant of the Alter Rebbe, and on her father’s side, her family name was Shneuri…

“She said that her grandfather had lived in Chevron, and he was one of the founders of the Jewish settlement there. However, her father had assimilated over the years and eventually married an Arab.

“I was shocked and speechless, not due to my stammer, but from a sudden state of panic. I told her, ‘No descendant of the Alter Rebbe can look like that,’ and I stormed out of her house. That was the last time I went to her for treatment.

“The amazing thing was that I didn’t need any more treatments, since the stammer had completely disappeared. Naturally, I was extremely happy and my self-image soared. As time passed, I forgot about the whole story.

“Two years later, in 5744, I went to daven at the Western Wall. After I finished davening and headed out, a middle-aged woman came up to me and asked if I recognized her. I looked at the woman but didn’t recognize her.

“The woman was dressed in traditional attire, ultra-Orthodox in every respect. I told her that I didn’t know who she was or what she wanted from me. ‘Yosef,’ she then said, ‘I’m happy to hear that your stammer is gone and you speak quite well.’ Even after her statement, I still failed to make the connection. Then, she asked in a tone of bewilderment, ‘How is it that you don’t know me? I’m the doctor who treated you.’ As soon as she identified herself, I remembered her and apologized for my poor memory.

“She told me that when I ran out of her house, asserting that ‘no descendant of the Alter Rebbe can look like that,’ it aroused a flood of thoughts in her mind. The matter continued to gnaw away at her, and she decided to investigate her family roots. When she discovered the true nature of her heritage, she underwent a halachic conversion and became a full-fledged member of the Jewish People. Just two weeks before our encounter at the Kosel, she had completed the conversion process by going to the mikveh – on Yud-Tes Kislev.

“Later, the bachur who sent me to her, Yisroel H., told me that he had met her in Crown Heights, visiting 770 and the Rebbe, Melech HaMoshiach.

“I haven’t a shadow of a doubt that the Rebbe, who sees from one end of the earth to the other, arranged both for my stuttering to disappear and for that woman, a descendant of the royal family, to convert and return to her people and her heritage,” said R’ Yosef Ehrentreu as he concluded his amazing story.

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING WITH A KNESSET MEMBER

“In Tishrei 5744, I was privileged to spend the high holidays in Beis Chayeinu. I was a bachur in Yeshivas ‘Toras Emes’ at the time, and the excitement was at a fever pitch. I made every effort to be present at every farbrengen and minyan with the Rebbe. The intensity of this experience was very exciting for me. During kos shel bracha on Motzaei Simchas Torah, I got in line just like everybody else, and when my turn came, the Rebbe poured some wine into my cup and gave me a bottle of mashke. He then said that the mashke was for a farbrengen at the Israel Torah Research Institute (ITRI) in Yerushalayim. I took the bottle and made my way out, totally perplexed.

“While I had taken part in several Tanya classes in non-Chabad yeshivos, I had never organized one nor had I done any activities at the Litvishe ‘ITRI’ yeshiva. I had been at other yeshivos such as Yeshivas Kol Yehuda, the Bukharian yeshiva in Kfar Chabad, and the Mirer Yeshiva, but not at ITRI. My amazement grew even stronger, since the Rebbe would usually give out bottles of mashke only for special occasions. At that moment, I simply had no idea why this privilege had come my way.

“There were some avreichim who suggested that this might have been a case of crossed signals, i.e., perhaps the bottle was meant for Rabbi Berel Shur a”h, who had passed by the Rebbe just a few minutes earlier and was known for the numerous classes in Chassidus he organized at non-Chabad yeshivos in Yerushalayim, including ‘ITRI.’ However, it was quite clear to me that the Rebbe had not become confused ch”v. I thought to myself for several days about what possible connection I had to the ‘ITRI’ yeshiva. I finally went to the Rebbe’s secretary, Rabbi Leibel Groner, and he referred me to Rabbi Berel Shur, who had been heavily involved in organizing underground Chassidus classes, to seek his advice. I went over to him and told him the whole story, but he failed to understand my doubts. ‘You have a shlichus – carry it out!’ he told me.

“As soon as I returned to Eretz Yisroel, I began to think about how I would get into the yeshiva. Then, I learned that the ‘ITRI’ yeshiva’s mashgiach was Rabbi Chaim Werner, a good friend of my father who was close with the Slonimer Chassidim and had absolutely no problem with Chassidus. A huge weight was lifted off my chest. All my concern and apprehension vanished in an instant, and I started visiting the yeshiva’s study hall to become acquainted with the bachurim there. Of course, everything was done with the permission of the administration of Yeshivas ‘Toras Emes,’ where I was learning at the time.

“This took place during an intensive municipal election campaign, particularly in the City of Yerushalayim, where the prominent Chassidic askan, Rabbi Meir Porush, was running for the city council as a candidate of the Agudas Yisroel Party. On my way to one visit at the ‘ITRI’ yeshiva, I met his father, Agudah MK Rabbi Menachem Porush, and I told him that I had a bottle of mashke from the Rebbe. He was very pleased, and he took a drink from the mashke blessed by the Rebbe, in the hope that it would bring electoral success to his son.

“During this time, the whole subject of ‘Who is a Jew?’ was a front-burner issue. I told him that the only thing that can help his son would be to vote in favor of amending the Law of Return on the question of ‘Who is a Jew?’, regarding which the Rebbe had cried out from the depths of his heart. He listened and went on his way. Not long afterward, in Kislev 5744, a vote on this matter was held in the Knesset. However, contrary to the Rebbe’s position, Rabbi Porush abstained on this vote, and the motion was rejected.

“Shortly before Yud-Tes Kislev, elections were held in Yerushalayim. The local Agudas Yisroel Party suffered a serious setback, although Rabbi Meir Porush was narrowly elected to the city council. In the wee hours of Friday morning, there was a special hookup of the Rebbe’s farbrengen in honor of the Chag HaGeula. Toward the end of the broadcast, the Rebbe began to cry out over the issue of ‘Who is a Jew?’ The sicha was interspersed with some very harsh expressions. Among them was a question: There are T’mimim and kollel students here. Why do they have to hear such frightful things?

“The Rebbe provided the answer: Anyone who hears these things can take action even if he’s located beyond the sea. We must work to amend the Law of Return. The Rebbe’s words and cries deeply shocked all those who heard them.

“On Motzaei Shabbos, I arranged for a farbrengen at the ‘ITRI’ yeshiva. I had already come to know several bachurim, who helped to organize the gathering. In addition, I made certain to bring mezonos and other refreshments.

“As I was heading for the yeshiva, I heard the piercing voice of Rabbi Menachem Porush emanating from one of the assembly halls. The event was a post-election Melaveh Malka, and my natural curiosity led me inside. As I entered the hall, I heard how the askanim came up to the microphone, one after another, and laid the blame for the stinging loss upon various factors. My nature is not to get involved in political matters; they don’t interest me and never have. Yet, the Rebbe’s tear-filled sicha on the need to change the Law of Return and Rabbi Porush’s failure to support the legislation when it came up for a vote angered me to the point of pushing me towards the speaker’s platform. Rabbi Porush remembered me from our previous meeting, and when the microphone was available, I was given the chance to say a few words.

“In a clear voice, in the presence of a large gathering of askanim and politicians, I said that the only explanation for the electoral defeat was the fact that the Rebbe pleaded for the Agudas Yisroel MKs to vote to amend the Law of Return, yet they failed to do so.

“There were some burly looking men who wanted to hit me, but Rabbi Porush, to his credit, stopped them. He took the microphone and said that he had been planning to mention this subject in his speech. Among the things he said was about a visit by a delegation of Chabad rabbanim on Friday with a recording of the Rebbe delivering that sicha. He heard the Rebbe’s heartfelt plea, and he decided that from that day forward, he would vote in favor of any legislation to amend the Law of Return.

“I remember the last words he said: ‘Agudas Yisroel will do everything to amend the law on ‘Who is a Jew?’ After he finished speaking, I quickly slipped out of the hall and made my way to the ‘ITRI’ yeshiva, where a group of bachurim was already waiting for me. We made a most unique farbrengen there for the Chag HaGeula, Yud-Tes Kislev. I spoke primarily about those subjects mentioned by the Rebbe in the sicha we heard on Friday. At a certain point, the mashgiach Rabbi Chaim Werner joined the farbrengen. The bachurim who heard that he was coming suddenly ran off and left me alone… As Rabbi Werner came in with a pleasant smile on his lips, I gave him a ‘L’chaim’ from the bottle I had received from the Rebbe. We then continued farbrenging together for a while longer.

“After the farbrengen, I wrote a detailed report to the Rebbe on the evening’s activities, including my encounter with Rabbi Menachem Porush on the street and in the hall during the Melaveh Malka. A few days after Yud Shvat, I was privileged to receive a reply. The Rebbe’s words filled me with tremendous encouragement: ‘Received with much thanks, and it caused great pleasure.’”

A TIE FOR SPREADING THE WELLSPRINGS

“In 5747, after completing my studies at Yeshivas Chassidei Chabad in Tzfas, I was privileged to travel for k’vutza to the Rebbe, Melech HaMoshiach. In fact, I stayed in 770 for six years until 5753. In 5748, a year after finishing k’vutza, the Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka passed away, and one of the activities we organized in her memory was a special mitzvah tank, run by Rabbi Levi Baumgarten.

“Each day, a couple of post-k’vutza T’mimim from 770 would join him. My turn of duty came out on Wednesday. I would leave all my pursuits that day and devote myself entirely to mitzvah tank activities.

“I was very devoted to my work with the ‘tank.’ We would begin our activities on one of the streets of Manhattan, offering Jewish pedestrians the opportunity to put on t’fillin. During the second part of the day, we would visit various offices and businesses that we knew were under Jewish management. The visits were arranged according to an orderly schedule. While they didn’t always agree to put on t’fillin, we were persistent. We would come every week and leave some educational brochures on Yiddishkait and the weekly Torah portion.

“Since I wanted to devote the day exclusively to mivtzaim, I wouldn’t take any money with me, thereby avoiding the temptation of going into stores to buy something.

“Once when I got delayed in one of the business offices and the mitzvah tank continued on its way, I had to borrow some money in order to get back to 770. This taught me a lesson, and from then on, I made certain to take a couple of dollars with me for a subway ride back to Crown Heights, just in case I needed it.

“In Adar 5749, on a Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, I had an incredible dream. Since I usually didn’t have meaningful dreams, this one really amazed me. I saw the Rebbe turning to me and telling me in Yiddish, ‘To have greater success in spreading the wellsprings, you have to wear a tie.’

“I woke up shaking like a leaf. According to the clock, it was four o’clock in the morning. At first, I thought to myself, ‘Dreams speak in vain.’ I tried to go back to sleep, but I remained wide awake in bed. Instead of dozing off, I kept remembering all the Chassidic jokes about those who are very “into” their tie wardrobes. Anyone acquainted with me knows that I don’t go for ties; we’re in two separate worlds.

“When daylight came, I went to the mikveh and then headed to 770 for Chassidus seder. I tried to immerse myself in my studies and remove any thought of the strange dream I had that night.

“When the time came to daven Shacharis, the traditional path was formed and the Rebbe entered the large shul. On his way to his regular place on the platform, the Rebbe stopped and looked at me. I noticed that as he was looking towards me, he straightened his tie, moving it from right to left and then back again.

“At first, I didn’t connect this gesture with my dream. But a few moments later, after the Rebbe had already reached his place for davening, he turned around toward the congregation and encouraged the singing. I noticed that the Rebbe appeared to be looking for something, and when his eyes reached me, he again arranged his tie in an obvious manner. Only then did he turn back toward his shtender and the chazzan began ‘Hodu.’

“Then, after the conclusion of Shacharis, the congregation began to sing. Once more, the Rebbe strongly encouraged the singing and then looked in my direction as he straightened the knot of his tie. During those moments, I foolishly thought that the knot of the Rebbe’s tie was apparently bothering him – perhaps it was too tight…

“I left 770 and boarded Rabbi Baumgarten’s mitzvah tank. Rabbi Baumgarten was the first person to hear the story of the unusual dream I had the previous night. He didn’t seem to attach much importance to my heavenly vision, and we continued toward our regular mivtzaim route in Manhattan. As soon as we reached our destination, I got out of the tank and started calling upon people to come inside and put on t’fillin. Suddenly, a middle-aged gentleman approached me. ‘Are you Jewish?’ I asked him. Instead of answering my question, he asked me if I wanted to buy something from him.

“The man held a suitcase in his hand, and he opened it to show me a large selection of ties. ‘A Jew must look nice,’ he told me, ‘and in order to look nice, you have to wear a tie.’ At first I told him that I wasn’t interested, however, he was determined to sell me one, and I eventually agreed. I looked inside his case and found a black tie to my liking. I asked him how much it cost, and he told me the ridiculous amount of seventy dollars! When I explained to him that I don’t have that much money, he said that he would be willing to sell it to me for half price. Of course, even half that amount I didn’t have. Finally, I took two dollars out of my pocket and said, ‘This is all I have. If you want to sell it to me for this amount – I’m willing.’

“During our entire discussion, he kept repeating over and over again, ‘A Jew must look nice, and in order to look nice, you have to wear a tie.’ He looked at the eight quarters I had in my hand and got a little annoyed, but he eventually gave in. ‘You’re a Jew, and it’s important to me that you wear a tie,’ he said. ‘Therefore, I’m prepared to sell you the black tie for this amount…’

“Now, I had another problem: I didn’t know how to tie a tie. I asked the vendor if the two bucks included arranging the tie properly around my collar. He agreed, and we went inside the mitzvah tank together.

“On one of the walls of the tank was a picture of the Rebbe Rayatz. The man pointed at the picture and told me that he had been privileged to have yechidus with the Rebbe Rayatz. The Rebbe had given him the shlichus of making certain that if he sees a Jew without a tie, he should make every effort that the Jew gets one. As a result, he had been selling ties for many years. After he knotted my tie correctly, we went our separate ways and I resumed my work putting t’fillin on Jewish passers-by. I was so busy with my mivtzaim, I didn’t make the connection between my dream, the hints the Rebbe had given me during Shacharis, and the Jewish vendor’s unconventional stubbornness in getting me to buy a tie…

“After a few hours on T’fillin Campaign activities, I started my regular visit to the nearby office buildings. One office belonged to a young Israeli with a profitable business. Whenever I would take the elevator up to his office and speak with his secretary, she would tell me that the manager doesn’t give permission for me to come in. I would leave some brochures on Judaism and move on. On this occasion, I pressed the intercom button as I always did, and to my great surprise, the secretary informed me that her boss wanted me to come into his office. As soon as I met him, the first thing I did was to ask him if he would like to put on t’fillin. While he hesitated at first, he eventually admitted that he didn’t know how to do it himself. He was prepared to put them on, provided that I help him with the t’fillin straps.

“Naturally, I agreed. As he recited the Krias Shma, I could see tears streaming down his cheeks. He was deeply moved. When he finished, I removed the t’fillin. He then turned to me and said that he wanted to ask me a question.

“’I’ve seen you for months through my hidden intercom camera. Today, you’ve never looked so sharp – and with a tie yet. What happened?’

“Suddenly, everything made sense. I realized that there was a connection between the dream, the street vendor, and the man now standing before me. I was too embarrassed to tell him about the dream and everything that had happened that day. I smiled, and then he asked if he could tell me an amazing story that had occurred that night, one that led him to bring me into his office and agree to put on t’fillin.

“The businessman said that while his father had passed away many years ago, during the past year, he had been coming to him in his dreams. The father told him that he had no rest, and if the son wanted to provide that rest, he had to put on t’fillin. Every time he woke up from one of these visions, he disregarded it out of hand. Yet, the dreams continued. Night after night, his father would come to him in a dream and ask him why he still isn’t putting on t’fillin.

“He said that his father had come to him again in a dream the previous night and asked the same question: Why aren’t you putting on t’fillin? Unlike the previous occasions, this time he answered him. He replied that he wanted to put on t’fillin with the young man who regularly came to his office. However, he was too embarrassed because the bachur did not have a well-groomed appearance, and a prominent businessman such as himself didn’t feel comfortable speaking with him.

“As his father listened, another Jew, an impressive looking rabbi, suddenly entered the conversation. ‘And if he’ll come tomorrow wearing a tie, will you put on t’fillin?’ the rabbi asked. ‘Yes, I would,’ the businessman said, ‘but I know that there’s no chance that this will happen.’

“The discussion ended, and his father and the rabbi disappeared from the dream.

“As it turned out, I arrived that day dressed somewhat differently than any other time – I came wearing a tie. Naturally, the Israeli man kept his word and put on t’fillin.

“As soon as he had finished his story, I showed him the L’chaim brochure bearing the Rebbe’s picture, and I asked him if this was the rabbi he had seen in his dream. The man looked at the picture and nearly fainted. ‘Yes, this is the rabbi who came to me in my dream!’ he cried with great emotion. I was just as moved. Now, it came my turn to tell him the entire chain of events that led me to buy the tie.

“Later, he told me quite directly that this was the first time in his life that he had ever put on t’fillin. I explained to him the concept of karkafta that no longer applied to him, and we made a bar-mitzvah celebration for him in the office with his Jewish employees. Immediately after the bar-mitzvah, I quickly went back to the mitzvah tank. I was afraid that I might miss it again and get stuck without any money to return to 770, as I had spent the two dollars I had on a black tie…

 “The amazing conclusion to this story came when the Rebbe delivered a sicha that night and afterward gave out dollars.  When I passed by, the Rebbe smiled, straightened his tie slightly, and said to me in Yiddish, ‘S’iz geloint (it was worth it)…’”