Fruits Of A Shaliach – A Lesson in Emunah

It was Thursday afternoon, February 1, 2008. I had just removed the fish from the freezer in preparation for cooking for Shabbos. Suddenly, I received an amazing phone call. The man on the other end of the line introduced himself as David L. and began to relate his story.

Approximately eight years ago, David was returning from a business trip in New York to his home in Ottawa, Canada. His flight was delayed, and it soon became apparent that he would not have time to arrive home in time for Shabbos. David called his wife, told her of his predicament, and asked her to try to make some kind of arrangements for him.

David’s wife contacted Rabbi Botnick, the Chabad shaliach (emissary) in Ottawa, who connected David to my late husband, Rabbi Eliyohu Engel, a”h, who was then a shaliach in Jersey City. My husband welcomed David most graciously and made sure he felt at home and comfortable the entire Shabbos.

Ever since that Shabbos, David had intended to contact Rabbi Engel to express just how much that Shabbos hospitality had meant to him, and how much he appreciated their Torah talks and the warm welcome on such short notice.

Time passed, and finally, two weeks ago, he decided once and for all to make the call to Rabbi Engel. To his dismay, he was unable to locate him. Determined to accomplish his mission, he once again turned to his shaliach, Rabbi Botnick, for assistance.

Rabbi Botnick made several calls and was informed that, unfortunately, Rabbi Engel had passed away eight months earlier. Rabbi Botnick gave David my phone number. David then called on that Thursday to express how much that Shabbos had meant to him, and how sorry he was not to have had the opportunity to thank my husband directly.

In appreciation, he wanted to order and send prepared meals to my home for the entire Shabbos. At this point in the conversation, I heard a loud crash coming from the living room. A moment later, my daughter appeared, frantically looking for the Hatzolah number. Her husband had passed out and fallen to the floor. He was soon rushed to the hospital and diagnosed as suffering from dehydration.

He and my daughter remained in the hospital until midnight. I was left at home with their five young children in my care, which effectively eliminated the possibility of cooking for Shabbos.

I was awestruck at the amazing turn of events. A number of years earlier, my husband had provided hospitality to David when he was in a dire predicament. Now, this former guest was providing me with Shabbos meals when I was in a dire predicament. Ashaliach sows the seeds, unaware of the fruits they will bear.