SATURDAY NIGHT, DECEMBER 3

Celebrating the day of liberation of the Mitteler Rebbe from czarist prison. At your local JRCC

We are on the eve of Hanukkah, and this is the time of miracles. Have you experienced miracles in your life?

Many miracles have happened in my life. Last time, when I was talking about koshering my kitchen, I mentioned one of them. But now I want to tell you about the miracle that saved my father's life.

As a teenager, my father and his family went on an evacuation to Karaganda, Kazakhstan. In 1943, when he was seventeen years old, he was called to the front. It happened in winter, when severe frosts broke out. My father’s regiment was preparing for a dangerous operation. The day before the start of the battle, a high-ranking army officer arrived at the location of the regiment, in front of whom all the personnel were lined up. The commander announced through a loudspeaker: “Whoever is an artist among you – three steps forward!"

Nobody moved. There was a heavy silence. The only sound was the crackling of branches in the cold wind. The appeal was repeated two more times. My father, who had been drawing since childhood, by this time had become an established artist, stood frozen. It seemed to him that everyone could heard the booming beating of his heart. He knew that he was the only artist in the regiment, and everyone knew about it too. Finally, a soldier standing nearby pointed at my father and shouted: “Here is the artist - David Kaganov!” My father thought numbly that the heavens had closed over him. But he had no choice but to step forward. He was immediately put into a car and taken away...

The car arrived at the Army Headquarters. My father was taken to a large room that had numerous portraits of party leaders damaged by the bombing hanging on the wall. He was ordered to restore all the portraits in a short time. He immediately set to work, but the anxiety still did not leave him; it was not known what would happen to him next. And remember, my father was only 17 years old...

The next day, his regiment from where he was so hastily taken away, went on a dangerous combat mission, Not a single soldier returned alive.

So, in a miraculous way, the Almighty saved my father’s life, and, as we now understand, this happened precisely during the period of Chanukah.

Another story, during the period of my return to Judaism with my husband. By that time, many people were gathering at our house, thank G-d, for Shabbat and festive meals and for Torah classes conducted by Rabbi Zaltzman, mostly focused on the book Tanya. We were seriously considering moving to a larger house to better accommodate our guests. Once, while walking in our area, we saw a house advertised for sale, and on a whim decided to look at it. We liked the house. At that time, we already understood the importance of a spiritual connection with the Rebbe and knew about the tradition of coordinating important decisions with him. We did what is customary in such cases: we wrote a letter and inserted it in one of the Rebbe's many volumes of letters. The Rebbe's answer was long and to the point, but the practical advice for us was in the last paragraph. It began with the following words: "Regarding your move ... I would advise you not to move in the middle of the school year, but to wait for the full completion of the educational process before the summer holidays." My husband, Arkady, and I realized that at the moment it is better to postpone the move, as it was in the middle of winter. Shortly thereafter, a fairly large house was put up for sale in our area. We looked at it and liked it a lot, especially given our plans to increase the number of people attending the classes. We bought this house the next day. Now there was one “minor” detail – the matter of selling our existing home. And then, literally the next day, the house next to us was put up for sale and announced an open house. An endless string of interested buyers were streaming through. The next day, our doorbell rings. At the door stood a young man wearing a kippah, who, without saying a word, stepped inside and, after a quick glance around, went back outside to look at the house number. It turned out that he had been among the visitors of the neighboring house’s open house the previous day, and decided to return in order to inspect it more thoroughly without the crowd. He just got the house number wring and came to our house instead!

When he came to us, he realized that our house actually suited him very well, and asked permission to return in half an hour with his wife. After they turned the house, they said that they would give an answer tomorrow. The next day they called and said they were buying our house. So that’s how our house was sold. The whole process of buying a new house and selling the old one took an unusually short time – just a few days. Our youngest daughter Clara asked, “When can we move into a new house?” When we opened the contract, we saw that the date of the move was set for June 29th. Clara exclaimed, “Oh, that’s the last day of school before the summer holidays!” Exactly as it was written in the Rebbe's answer to our note.

On the one hand, it may seem that these stories with miracles from the category of “believe it or... not.” But we must remember that every Jew has a special spirituality, and all we need to do is acquire the knowledge to be able to “see” this spirituality with our own eyes.