Eli Cohen, a businessman from Venezuela who had been in yechidus with the Rebbe Melech HaMoshiach and didn’t ask for a thing, suddenly found himself in a desperate situation. When he passed by the local Chabad house one Shabbos and decided to go inside after hearing the sound of niggunim, he never dreamed what would take place as a result of this detour… An amazing story spanning nearly a quarter of a century after a private meeting with the Moshe Rabbeinu of our generation.
Translated by Michoel Leib Dobry
|
These emotionally stirring words were written on the Internet some time ago, and signed under the name: Eliezer Cohen – Stockholm, Sweden. This was on a website forum where numerous Jews describe their personal moment with the leader of our generation, their own spiritual experience with the Rebbe, Melech HaMoshiach, when they felt how he truly cares for them as if they were his only son.
People didn’t make much of an effort to gather these stories back in the early years. However, with the passage of time, a revolution has taken place with the Rebbe’s directive “to publicize miracles” as a means to bringing a ray of infinite G-dly light into the hearts of other Jews, filling the whole world with the imminent arrival of the True and Complete Redemption.
REVEALING THE STORY’S UNKNOWN SOURCE…
By Divine Providence, I received an e-mail from a friend about this forum. My eyes came across this text and my curiosity was immediately aroused. I clearly got the message that there was another intriguing miracle story hidden here of the connection between a Jewish soul somewhere in the world with the leader of the generation, Rosh B’nei Yisroel, at 770 Eastern Parkway, Brooklyn, New York.
How would I be able to locate this Jew named Eliezer Cohen, whose story I wanted to hear? Searching through the vast collections of files on Chabad Chassidim turned up nothing.
Finally, I decided to turn to the Rebbe’s shliach in Stockholm, Rabbi Chaim Greisman, in the hope that he was acquainted with this person. After a brief conversation with the shliach, he told me that he thinks he knows who this is. However, to my great disappointment, he added: “He just left town for an indefinite period of time. I wouldn’t know where to find him…”
I then asked the shliach if he might have heard the story of the mysterious Eliezer Cohen and the Rebbe. His response via e-mail provided the breakthrough: “Yes, he always tells a story about when he happened to meet one of the bachurim on shlichus at the Chabad yeshiva in Caracas. His name is Meir Burkis, and he lives today in Kfar Chabad. Maybe you should check out the details with him…”
DIVINE PROVIDENCE LEADS THE WAY
The Hand of G-d directs every miracle to be revealed at exactly the right time. The shliach’s answer remained with me for several months. For some reason, I didn’t take the simple step of picking up the phone and checking whether he could provide any clues.
Yud Shvat came and went, as did Purim and Pesach. On the Friday after Shavuos, just as I was about to go out on mivtzaim to put t’fillin on local Jews, I suddenly remembered the story. I decided to pick up the phone and call R’ Meir Burkis in the hope that maybe he could shed some light on the details.
R’ Meir Burkis confirmed that he remembered the story. “But if you want to know more precise details, the person to ask is the Baal HaMaaseh,” he said. “The truth is that since it’s been more than twenty years since the story took place, I wouldn’t know how to help you. However, by Divine Providence, just before Pesach, I got a call from R’ Eliezer. He had gone out of his way to find my number and wish me a happy and kosher Pesach. Now, I have his number, and I’ll be happy to give it to you…”
With undisguised joy, I quickly dialed the number, and the voice of R’ Eliezer Cohen came on the line from Stockholm, Sweden. “You’re calling me from Eretz Yisroel to hear my story about the Rebbe?” he cried. His voice filled with emotion when I made my request, and he gladly consented to tell his story. He remembered it well, as if it had occurred only a few days ago.
Here now is his story:
A SUCCESSFUL BUSINESS
About twenty-three years ago, Eli was the owner of an eminently prestigious line of European clothes. The business was quite successful and he was able to make a very good living. As any other observant Jew, he regularly set aside at least ten percent of his profits to tz’daka, thanking G-d for the abundance of blessings He had given him.
As is known, the wardrobe industry has end-of-the-season sales. When an importer is stuck with a large quantity of merchandise he is sometimes forced to lower the prices and market the unsold stock at far less than its actual value. Within the framework of his clothing business, Eli looked for a successful way to sell his surplus items at their regular price, thereby maintaining the prestige of his fashion line.
Even here, his efforts bore fruit, and he found a way to sell a sizable portion of the remaining merchandise in the stores of a Jewish merchant living in the Caribbean Islands. Eli jumped at the chance, selling the rest of his imports in Panama and other countries throughout Central America.
As part of this marketing venture, Eli rented a stockroom on the island of Aruba, located off the coast of Venezuela, where he stored the expensive wardrobe items. At a certain point he decided that it would be preferable to transfer the merchandise to Venezuela. This was a country with a population of sixty to seventy million people and he thought that it would be much easier to sell the fashionable clothes there. He rented a large warehouse in Venezuela for a monthly fee and moved all the goods there from Aruba. The cost of this merchandise was very substantial and it was supposedly well protected in this storeroom.
Not long afterward, in mid-5751, Eli’s family returned to live in Eretz Yisroel, and he was forced to deal with a variety of matters connected with the move. This kept him out of Venezuela for four to five months. When he finally finished getting his family set up in Eretz Yisroel he quickly returned to Venezuela to resume hands-on control of his business.
GONE IN AN INSTANT
As soon as he returned to Venezuela, later in 5751, he went to the warehouse where he had rented space to store his merchandise and got the shock of his life.
“I went over to the warehouse owner,” R Eliezer said, “and without skipping a beat, he looked at me squarely in the eyes and declared, ‘You have no more merchandise!’
“I was totally stunned. ‘What do you mean, I have no more merchandise?’ I screamed at him. ‘I paid you rent for all these months that I wasn’t here. What kind of trick is this?’ I tried to argue with him, even threatening to go to an attorney. ‘Go to whomever you want,’ was his only reply.
“I realized that I was in serious trouble. This merchandise cost a great deal of money. I had worked with this individual over the previous year and it never dawned on me for a moment that he could suddenly become involved in organized crime tactics.
“Later, I realized that when he saw that several months had passed and I hadn’t returned, he decided to make it big and sold my merchandise at a bargain price to the first customer who came along. He had already pocketed the down payment of fifty thousand dollars, and he was about to receive the balance, amounting to several hundred thousand more, although this was still far less than its actual value. Suddenly and unexpectedly, I came back and tried to spoil his golden opportunity…”
To Eli’s great misfortune, crime in Venezuela is not just a national epidemic – it’s the way the country runs. This is a region where people are murdered at the drop of a hat over money. If you enter a police station to register a complaint, the chances of your getting out of there alive would depend on how much you’re prepared to pay the officer on-duty… This was a dangerous world based on three principles – bribery, bribery, and again bribery.
TO FIGHT THE UNBEATABLE FOE
Eli would not give up. He went to one of the country’s most prestigious attorneys and paid a lot of money for his services, but to no avail. His efforts were unsuccessful. While he even tried to make use of the many contacts he had developed over the years, they produced no tangible results. One of these acquaintances was a local Gentile, who periodically did some business with him, and they even developed an unusually warm friendship. He had also heard about Eli’s predicament and empathized with his plight, but he too admitted he couldn’t do much to help.
Three months passed during which Eli tried desperately to fight the cruel circumstances that had entangled him. Even back in those days Venezuela was not known for establishing justice or insuring domestic tranquility. His state of dejection threatened to consume him.
As a Shabbos observant Jew Eli spent Shabbasos at a nearby hotel, located near the city’s highest concentration of Jewish residents. The need to avoid a long walk was not just for the purpose of greater convenience, but fulfillment of the mitzvah “And you shall watch yourselves very well.” As we have already said, Venezuela is not the friendliest country for business dealings.
AN UNEXPECTED ENTRY INTO THE CHABAD HOUSE
One Shabbos during that period, early in 5752, Eli passed by a synagogue from which he heard the sound of spirited singing. This stopped him in his tracks and he decided to go inside. The niggun was “Yedid Nefesh” and the synagogue was the local Chabad house. He hadn’t even been aware that there was a Chabad house in the area.
“I went inside,” R’ Eliezer recalled, “and I noticed that there was a rather large crowd. Everyone was happy and cheerful and they were all soon dancing as they sang ‘Lecha Dodi.’ As I was still feeling very angry, sad, and dejected over the problems consuming me, I stayed on the side. Suddenly, a young man, about twenty years old, approached me. His name was Meir Burkis, and as he was smiling and laughing, he asked me, ‘What’s the matter, sir? Why are you so sad?’
“‘Forget it, I’m having problems. You can’t help me,’ I muttered.
“‘Leave it alone,’ he said straightforwardly. ‘Today is Shabbos. Forget about the problems. Just relax.’
“‘And where are you eating the Shabbos meal?’ he then asked.
“‘At the hotel,’ I replied.”
He exchanged a few words with the shliach, Rabbi Perman, who then invited him for the Shabbos meal at the Chabad House.
“WHAT’S THE PROBLEM? WRITE TO THE REBBE!”
“On Motzaei Shabbos, Meir, who was staying in the city on shlichus, came up to me and inquired about the problem that was afflicting me. After I told him in brief about the difficult situation, he replied: ‘What’s the problem? Write to the Rebbe!’
“Only then did it hit me. I already knew the Lubavitcher Rebbe and I had been privileged to have an audience with the Rebbe about twelve years earlier. As was customary, I had taken a sheet of paper and written out my request – brachos of health for people close to me. After waiting several hours, I went inside for yechidus. The Rebbe invited me to sit down and I did so. The Rebbe then asked me in which language I preferred to converse. I replied that since I speak several languages including English, French, and Hebrew, it made no difference to me. ‘Pick one,’ the Rebbe told me, and I chose to speak with him in Hebrew.
“I was privileged to be in the Rebbe’s room for about nine and a-half minutes, and during this private audience I felt as if I was being viewed with an x-ray machine. It put a real sense of fear and spiritual elevation in my heart, and I realized that I was sitting before a tzaddik – the foundation of the world.
“At the start of the yechidus, the Rebbe looked at the note I had submitted and then said: ‘You are requesting for everyone, but what are you asking for yourself?’ I replied that, thank G-d, I have everything, but the Rebbe still wanted me to request something. I had no answer for him. While I realize now that this may have been a wasted opportunity, this story might represent a kind of dénouement to that yechidus…
“What the Rebbe told me during those nine and a half minutes is known only to G-d, the Rebbe, and myself. But one detail I can tell you: Rabbi Groner opened the door twice during the yechidus but the Rebbe motioned for him to close it. When I left the Rebbe’s room Chassidim waiting outside asked me what had transpired. I entered a poor man, and I walked out rich, I told them.
“In later years, I also went for dollars on several occasions. Yet, for some reason, despite my connection with the Rebbe, until Meir had suggested to me on that Motzaei Shabbos to write the Rebbe a letter about my problem and ask for a bracha, I hadn’t thought about this possibility.”
WHO’S “THE MAZKIR BENTZION”?
“Meir gave me the fax number of the Rebbe’s secretariat, and the next day, Sunday, I wrote a detailed letter to the Rebbe, spelling out the problem facing me. I have saved the letter to this very day. I sent it via fax, and a short while later, I received a question in response: ‘What is your mother’s name?’ I had apparently neglected to write my mother’s name, and I re-sent the fax with the missing information. I left the hotel, hoping for the best.”
That same afternoon, as Eli returned to his hotel room, he found a one-line handwritten fax from the Rebbe. He called Meir Burkis and asked him, “Who’s the mazkir Ben Tziyon?” Meir was puzzled at first, not understanding what he meant. Suddenly, he said with great excitement: “That’s Azkir al HaTzion, not Mazkir Ben Tziyon. The Rebbe is going tomorrow, Monday, to pray at the gravesite of his father-in-law, the Rebbe Rayatz, and he is informing you that he will daven for you and mention your personal problem!”
On Tuesday, Eli went to his friend, a local Gentile with whom he had periodic business dealings. As mentioned above, this friend had heard about Eli’s problem when it first developed, empathizing with his plight. This time, however, when Eli entered his home, the friend immediately asked him, “What’s happening with you, Eli? Did you manage to solve your problem?”
“Unfortunately, no,” he replied.
“I have an idea,” the friend declared. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before! Are you prepared to pay a little more money?”
“Yes,” Eli said emphatically.
The Gentile picked up the phone and placed a call. Not long afterward, a huge-looking Venezuelan came to the house. He was so tall that Eli thought he might finish a close second to Og Melech HaBashan. The man, who introduced himself to Eli as his friend’s uncle, was the commander of the National Guard in Caracas.
He said that he was responding to his nephew’s personal request, in exchange for a “token” fee as payment for his “services.” They agreed on a certain sum, half of which Eli paid immediately, while he promised to pay the balance after his problem was solved.
DO WE HAVE A GOOD ENDING?
This police commander called in several of his officers, and he headed towards the warehouse together with Eli. “We’re going to get your merchandise back!” he declared.
When they arrived at the location, the warehouse manager was just about to leave for his afternoon break. As the man noticed Eli entering with someone he didn’t recognize, he became very angry and started yelling at him: “I warned you before that if you came back here I would call the police!”
Eli’s companion glared at the manager and said authoritatively: “I am the police.” He paused for a moment and then continued: “You don’t want to know who I am, but I’ll tell you anyway. My official title is ‘National Guard Commander of Caracas’…
“I’ll you two choices: Either you return all the merchandise you took from this man right now and we’ll forget the whole thing – and you’ll handle the problem of what you were planning to do with the merchandise on your own, or we’ll drag you in to the police station and take the merchandise anyway.”
“Within five minutes, I had my merchandise back,” R’ Eliezer recalled. “I brought a truck to cart everything away, and I left there grinning from ear to ear with the merchandise safely in my possession. I eventually sold all the merchandise, albeit not at the price I had originally planned. With G-d’s help, I finished the whole venture without sustaining any losses.”
HIS WORD RUNS MOST SWIFTLY
“I felt as if I was in a dream. For three months I had been walking around as if my whole world had come to an end as all my toil and effort had gone for nothing. Then suddenly, I was privileged to meet the Rebbe’s shliach and he urged me to write the Rebbe a letter and request a bracha. I wrote the letter on Sunday, the Rebbe prayed for me on Monday, and on Tuesday, my salvation had come!”
R’ Eliezer continued to illustrate most vividly his feelings over this tremendous miracle. “It was as if I was trying to start a car engine without success, and people suddenly came to me and said, ‘You have a key in your pocket. Why don’t you use it?’ I put the key in the ignition, and the car revved up as if there had never been a problem to begin with…”
Not long afterwards, on the 15th of Teves 5752, R’ Eliezer traveled together with his friend and partner to Beis Rabbeinu Sh’B’Bavel. They were planning a new business venture, a car dealership that would prove most beneficial to the Chabad house in Caracas. They passed by the Rebbe together for dollars, and when their turn came, they thanked the Rebbe for his bracha.
“Blessed Be He and His Name for placing the Rebbe in our generation,” R’ Eliezer concluded with great emotion.
A PERSONAL NOTE
As Divine Providence would have it, while I was writing this fascinating story, I learned a sicha from the Rebbe on Parshas Shlach in Likkutei Sichos, Vol. 13, which concluded with a marvelous instruction in Avodas Hashem. I was amazed to see how the content of this teaching was extremely fitting for this story.
Here is the portion of the sicha most relevant to the aforementioned:
“It is brought in Tikkunei Zohar: ‘There is an extension of Moshe in each generation,’ and our Rabbis of blessed memory say, ‘There is no generation that doesn’t have someone like Moshe.’ It’s understood that just as Moshe Rabbeinu would pray for each and every Jew, caring for each and every one… similarly, [we find] with the extension of Moshe in each generation, caring and praying for each and every Jew in their generation…
“And the reason: ‘Roshei B’nei Yisroel, etc., are the level of head and mind, etc.’, and therefore, it is understood that just as in a material sense, when something is missing or hurts in one of the limbs of the body, it is felt specifically in the head and mind, so too in the spiritual realm. Prayer for the entire body of the Jewish People in all its limbs is through the mind and the head – the Moshe of the generation. Furthermore, individual prayer ascends through the Moshe of the generation, the intermediary connecting the Jewish People to G-d, and as is stated, ‘I stand between G-d and you.’
“By the same token, we find regarding the Moshe in each generation, who cares for each and every person, and he is the one who davens and achieves through his davening a drawing forth of all good – in the material and the spiritual [realms].”