LITERALLY SEARCHING HIS KIDNEYS

Every time Mrs. Dina Chadad passed by for dollars, the Rebbe added an unexpected bracha for her husband, and she didn’t understand its meaning. It later became clear that the Rebbe, sitting in New York, foresaw her husband’s unstable medical condition. When she realized that her husband’s kidneys had stopped functioning, there began a race against the clock to find an appropriate kidney donor. At the last minute, when it appeared that there was no hope, she received a telephone call from the Rebbe’s secretary with an amazing instruction that saved her husband’s life.

Translated by Michoel Leib Dobry

“I have told this story hundreds of times already,” Mrs. Dina Chadad of Tzfas’ Neve Oranim neighborhood told us at the outset. Yet, when we heard her fascinating account on the morning of the bris mila of her grandson, born to her only son, we could hear her voice choking with emotion.

The story took place more than thirty years ago, when the Chadads were an average Israeli family. “My husband and I grew up in very traditional homes with stringently observant parents. However, as with many Jews from the following generation, we got caught up with the free and open society of the modern Jewish state, and the only mitzvah we kept to any degree was Shabbos,” Mrs. Chadad said with a tinge of sadness. Since then, she and her husband have undergone a complete transformation in their lives and have returned to the time-honored path of their forefathers.

This vital and dramatic change occurred largely due to a stirring miracle in the merit of a bracha from the Rebbe, Melech HaMoshiach. It led to a deeply warm and heartfelt connection with the local Chabad community, which continues to this very day.

AND HIS NAME IN ISRAEL SHALL BE CALLED MOSHE

“The story took place exactly thirty-six years,” recalled Mrs. Chadad. “We were a young couple, parents to two sweet little girls, the younger of which was already a year old. Caring for our daughters consumed a great deal of my time, and I felt that I didn’t have any time to myself. I watched as my friends, many of whom were still single, would go out for their enjoyment and recreation, free of any family obligations. At a certain point, I began to feel myself suffocating.

“By the time my third pregnancy had begun, it was hard for me to bear, particularly from an emotional standpoint.

“One night, I had a dream that was both strange and quite amazing. I’m not a woman who generally has such dreams, especially ones that seemed so real… In my dream, I saw myself walking up Mt. Sinai, as I bore my child in my womb. Suddenly, I heard a voice piercing from the mountain, informing me that I would have a son to be named Moshe, after Moshe Rabbeinu a”h. I woke up with a start; the dream was so vivid. It took me quite a while to calm down from this vision.

“Six months later, we celebrated the birth of our son in a good and auspicious hour. At the bris mila, we naturally gave him the name I had been told in the dream – Moshe. Rabbi Aharon Eliezer Ceitlin, whom I first met during my pregnancy, expressed his wish that the boy would come to learn in the Chabad kindergartens. Our son did join Rabbi Ceitlin’s kindergartens, and a warm friendship developed between our family and Chabad, particularly Rabbi Ceitlin’s family.

“Our Moshe was a very sweet child; anyone who spoke with him was simply amazed. He was a boy who always spoke favorably about the Jewish People. He liked everyone, always tried to help and assist others, and he was admired and accepted by everyone.

“By Divine Providence, we’re doing this interview today, a few hours before we leave for the bris mila of our grandson, Moshe’s son…

A PUZZLING BRACHA

“The Lubavitcher Rebbe’s tremendous miracle began twenty-six years ago, a few years after our son Moshe’s birth. My father, of blessed memory, passed away suddenly at the relatively young age of fifty-seven. I was very close to him, and his passing affected me deeply. For a lengthy period of time afterwards, I rarely left my house. I was simply brokenhearted.

“One day, my husband met with the chief rabbi of Tzfas, Rabbi Levi Bistritzky a”h. He told him about what I was going through, and then asked for some practical advice. Rabbi Bistritzky told my husband that the first group from Tzfas making a trip to the Rebbe was currently being organized. He was certain that if I joined the group, it would improve my mood and things would eventually work out. This was a few weeks after the High Holiday season, and the trip was planned for Chanukah.

“My husband came home and told me about the group trip, suggesting that I follow the rav’s advice. He had no idea how much this trip would help him no less than it helped me. Naturally, I gladly agreed. The Rebbe’s reputation and the many stories about him were well-known, and I was very happy for the opportunity to meet the Rebbe personally.

“After making the necessary preparations, I boarded a flight together with a group of other local residents, similar to groups that came from other cities to visit the Rebbe. We stayed in Crown Heights for three weeks, and the group members would come to 770 each day. The trip was like a sweet dream. Words are totally inadequate to describe the magical atmosphere, the wonderful hospitality we received from the Crown Heights community, and above all the special attention from the Rebbe himself. Each time I passed by the Rebbe, he gave me a kind and caring look, and his piercing eyes like those of an angel of G-d have accompanied me my whole life.

“Throughout those three weeks, I often found myself crying from excitement. This literally was a G-dly experience that only someone who has actually been there can understand. While there are many outstanding rabbinical figures, the Rebbe is a Heavenly individual who is extremely hard to describe.

“During my encounters with the Rebbe, I received some very interesting treatment from the Rebbe that I didn’t understand at the time. Whenever I passed by for dollars, the Rebbe would give me a dollar for myself, and he often gave me dollars for the members of my family. Then, the Rebbe would hand me another dollar for my husband and wish him a ‘refua shleima’ (a complete recovery).

“After this happened several times, I asked Rabbi Ceitlin why the Rebbe is blessing my husband with health – he was as healthy as an ox! At first, I sincerely thought that this was the standard bracha for men. However, Rabbi Ceitlin told me that this was a special blessing, as the regular nusach was ‘Bracha v’hatzlacha.’ Therefore, Rabbi Ceitlin concluded, if the Rebbe is giving a bracha for a ‘refua shleima,’ there are obviously things that he sees but we don’t.

“I heard Rabbi Ceitlin’s explanation, and this eased my concern.

“At the end of the visit, we were privileged to receive answers to questions submitted to the Rebbe. I received a reply from the Rebbe in response to various requests I had made in an earlier correspondence. At the end of the Rebbe’s letter, I was amazed to see that he again blessed my husband with complete health. However, the most stunning thing was that I hadn’t mentioned my husband in my own letter. I had merely written about my desire to do t’shuva and develop a closer connection with the Creator. By that time, I was already covering my hair, and every day I spent with the Rebbe, I became even stronger in my observance of Torah and mitzvos. Without my even asking, the Rebbe on his own initiative gave my husband an additional bracha for a ‘refua shleima.’

A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN

“A year had passed since my thrilling visit to the Rebbe, and I had gone from a traditional Israeli lifestyle to being fully Torah observant in every respect. I participated regularly in Torah classes, and the person who had a tremendous influence upon me in those days was Mrs. Rochel Hendel. My connection with her was very special indeed. Regrettably, my husband still hadn’t been swept up by my fiery enthusiasm, and he continued his life devoid of any observance of Torah and mitzvos.

“One morning, my husband didn’t feel well and he suddenly fainted. I was overcome with panic. After a few moments of hysteria and frenzy, I quickly called for an ambulance to transport my husband to the emergency ward of Tzfas’ Rebecca Sieff Medical Center, where they stabilized his condition and admitted him for a series of comprehensive tests. A few hours later, the doctor took me aside and gave me the bad news: Both of my husband’s kidneys were not functioning; or to be more precise, they were holding at a dangerously low level.

“The doctors immediately directed us to the dialysis treatment area, where my husband would need to stay until a suitable kidney donor could be found. The treatment began, but unfortunately his body was not responding well. With each passing day, I saw my husband wasting away. I was simply beside myself. It took another several days before I could manage to regain my senses and gather my thoughts. Suddenly, I realized that all this hadn’t come upon us out of the blue. There had been someone who knew that this would happen: During my visit to Crown Heights, the Lubavitcher Rebbe had blessed my husband several times with a ‘refua shleima.’

“The Rebbe’s words from a year and a-half earlier now took on a new dimension. They represented an actual prophecy! There could be no other explanation. When this fact suddenly hit me, my whole body began to tremble.

“I immediately turned to Rabbi Ceitlin. I told him about my husband’s condition, and he remembered the brachos that the Rebbe had given. He reassured me that if that’s what the Rebbe said, we can be absolutely certain that there will be a full and complete recovery. His words filled me with hope and faith in the sea of anxiety and despair engulfing me in those difficult days.

“Three long months had passed since my husband had first fainted, and his health was only getting worse. It was clear that if we didn’t find him a kidney donor soon, his medical condition would ch”v become a matter of life and death. Back then, twenty-six years ago, there was far less awareness of the concept of organ donations. Obviously, the best candidates to be kidney donors were close relatives. However, due to a variety reasons, none of them were able to do so.

“When I saw my husband’s condition rapidly deteriorating, I decided to take Rabbi Ceitlin’s advice and wrote a letter to the Rebbe in request of a bracha.

“I’ll never forget those moments as I wrote that letter from the very depths of my heart. It was literally saturated with my tears. I first wrote about what had happened to my husband, mentioning that someone had already prophesized that this would occur – the Rebbe himself – during my Chanukah visit. I pleaded with the Rebbe for a bracha that we should find a suitable kidney and allow our family’s life to return to normal. I sent the letter with Rabbi Ceitlin and hoped for the best.

“A few days later, at two o’clock in the morning, I was roused from my sleep by the ringing of our telephone. On the line was the Rebbe’s secretary, Rabbi Yehuda Leib Groner. He told me that the Rebbe had received my letter and had a message for me: You personally can be a good shlucha to help your husband…

“I heard the message and initially I didn’t understand. For several minutes, I sat totally confused and perplexed. What did the Rebbe mean? I tried to guess. How could I be a good shlucha to help my husband? I had been a good shlucha all these months, running around and doing everything possible to help him in his current medical condition.

“Finally, I had an idea, and I promised myself that I check it out first thing in the morning: Perhaps the Rebbe wanted me to check and see if I personally was a suitable donor for my husband. What were the chances that I could be a match? I didn’t know. We were not related in any way, not even as distant cousins. In those days, I didn’t even know my blood type. Yet, I said to myself: If that’s what the Rebbe said, I’ll do it to the best of my understanding. That morning, I called Professor Shapira, director of the transplant department at Beilenson Hospital in Petach Tikva and asked him if such a possibility existed.

“He listened politely and then said that he had never encountered such a case before, although there was a remote possibility that this could happen. Despite his great skepticism, I went in for an examination to determine whether I might be a suitable kidney donor for my husband. Incredibly, the test results showed that I was a 99% match. The medical staff, realizing that I was his wife, not his sister, was positively stunned.

“This was something so rare that I was actually the first woman in Eretz Yisroel to donate a kidney to her husband. When the operation took place, all the newspapers carried the story in their front-page headlines. We didn’t waste any precious time. Within a few days, we both went into the operation room, and with the Rebbe’s bracha, I was a good shlucha to help my husband.”

“PEOPLE SHOULD UNDERSTAND THE TREMENDOUS GREATNESS OF THE LUBAVITCHER REBBE”

“It’s been twenty-six years since then,” said Mrs. Chadad as she concluded her story in a voice filled with emotion, “and thank G-d, my husband functions perfectly well with my kidney. This story quickly spread near and far, and in the years that have passed, we have told it at every available opportunity. We want people to understand the tremendous greatness of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, who sits in New York yet his power of influence stretches to the four corners of the earth.

“His picture remains a permanent fixture on the wall in our home. This is our tzaddik, and we are filled with hope and faith that we will soon merit the coming of Moshiach. Then, we will meet with the Rebbe again.”