MATCHES AND HATS

By Devorah Leah

Out the window could be seen hills, valleys and mountains. The long train made its way toward Kremenchug, the big city near Lubavitch.

Lubavitch is a small town and does not have a train station. Those who wanted to see the Rebbe in Lubavitch had to travel by train to Kremenchug and then hire a wagon driver to take them to the little town.

In the passenger car of the train there was an unusual commotion. A group of Chassidim who were heading to the Rebbe for Rosh HaShana had just finished davening. They looked both excited and filled with awe. This day, with Hashem’s help, they would arrive in Lubavitch! At the Rebbe!

Oy, how they waited for the moment when they would see his holy face, have a private meeting with him, and hear maamarim. How sweet were those precious, elevated moments. And yet they were fearful – had they prepared adequately for the encounter with the Rebbe. Were they pure enough to be worthy to be in his presence?

One of the Chassidim took out a bottle of mashke, poured l’chaim into small cups, and started a moving niggun. Suddenly, the door opened and the singing immediately stopped. All gazed at the door which slowly opened.

The mystery was soon solved as a young Jew entered. He was obviously not a Chassid. He looked at the scene and said, “You are traveling to the Rebbe? To the Rebbe Rashab?” When they said they were, he smiled, sat down on a seat that was offered to him, and said, “I will tell you how I know the Rebbe.”

I come from the city of Dvinsk. In my youth, I went out in search of a livelihood and boruch Hashem I found a good job in a nearby city where I worked in a matches factory.

I got married and we lived a happy life without material want. My wife also worked and we lacked for nothing.

One day, the wheel of life turned. A fire broke out in the factory where I worked, and the next day I could not go to work, for there was nowhere to go to. A short while passed and my wife became very sick. Her illness did not allow her to work, so we were both jobless.

We used up the money we had saved over the years and having no choice, we moved to my parents’ home in Dvinsk. I felt terrible, for not only couldn’t I support my family honorably, I was now a burden on my elderly parents.

Some Chabad Chassidim lived in this city and when they heard of my plight they suggested I go to Lubavitch to the Rebbe Rashab. The truth is that I am not a Chassid, but my difficult situation compelled me to try any possible solution.

I traveled to Lubavitch and saw the Rebbe. It is hard to describe; his glowing face, the feeling of holiness in his room, they are indescribable.

The Rebbe listened to me and told me to travel to Kovna where I should open a hat store. My wife would sew the hats and I would sell them in the store.

As I said, I am not a Chassid, and therefore, I dared to ask the Rebbe, “Why should I travel to Kovna and open a store there? Why not in Dvinsk, my hometown, where at least I know many people?” But the Rebbe was firm about my going to Kovna.

I traveled to Kovna and spent a few days looking for a suitable property for a hat business, but all the stores in the center of town were charging rents that were much higher than I could afford. I ended up finding a store on the edge of town whose rent was cheap. I put some hats on display and waited for customers.

One day passed and then two, but nobody came into my store. On one of those days, as I sat in vain waiting for customers, I began to think about those glorious days when I had no worries. When I roused myself from my daydream and found myself in my quiet store, I couldn’t take it and began to cry. I poured out all my bitterness over the difficult days we’d had until then.

Suddenly, I heard heavy footsteps. I looked up and there was a poritz (landowner) who had walked into my store. He asked about one of the hats and wanted to buy it. I said a low price so he’d want to buy it, but instead of taking out his wallet, he sat down and said, “I can see that you’ve been crying. What’s bothering you?”

I tried to avoid answering but when he insisted, I told him my life story. When I finished, he said, “It wasn’t for nothing that the Rebbe sent you here. I have a brother who has a big matches factory. A few days ago, the biggest machine broke down and the technicians have been unable to fix it, so the factory isn’t producing anything. I am sure that if you can fix the machine, my brother will pay you handsomely and you will get an excellent job.”

The poritz urged me to go. With Hashem’s help, I was able to determine the problem and fix the machine. The poritz’s brother paid me generously and gave me a good job in the factory. Since then, things have gone well and it’s all thanks to the advice of your Rebbe!