Rabbi Bolton from Kfar Chabad, sent me the following:
Here is a story just sent to me by Rabbi Y. Tillis editor@ascentofsafed.com to illustrate how the Rebbe is the Moses of this generation, that each Jewish person needs to find a way to connect to him and eventually, he will be Moshiach.
It was mid-afternoon, Friday, April 4, 1958, a few hours before the sun would set and the Holiday of Passover officially would begin.
A group of Chabad yeshiva boys in Brooklyn had finished baking the last of the Passover matza they would use that evening in the Passover meal and were standing in a long line to receive another small piece of Matza from the hand of the Lubavitcher Rebbe.
The Rebbe used to stand for several hours before Passover greeting and blessing people while handing to each a piece of Matza. The mystical Jewish work, the Zohar, explains that matza is the "bread of faith," and simply eating it nourishes the soul. So the Rebbe was handing out faith.
The Rebbe gave priority to those who had to travel far and one of those was a 16 year old yeshiva boy by the name of Shlomo Cunin. He to get home to 167th and Jerome Avenue in the Bronx which was almost an hour away but when his turn came the Rebbe handed him a matza and asked if he could deliver it to a certain address which was not far from his destination.
Ideally, he should have taken a taxi from the subway station, asked the driver to wait, delivered the matza, and gotten home in time for his family Seder. But life is seldom ideal and it just so happened that no cabs were available. So he went on foot, eventually found the address which turned out to be part of a housing project, knocked on the door and out came a man with no shirt revealing an array of tattoos and a pot belly, definitely not holiday garb.
"What is it?" he snapped. (It is Bronx style to snap when greeting someone.) "Excuse me, are you Mr. So-and-So?" Shlomo asked. "Yeah," he said.
Through the open door Shlomo saw a loaf of rye bread sitting on the table; not the traditional Seder scene. "The Rebbe sent me."
"The Rebbe? Oh, please come in,"
It was as though he said a magic word. The man graciously brought Shomo a chair. The tiny kitchen contained only a small table, some chairs and a hot plate. Shomo didn't understand what he was doing, delivering matza to a family who wasn't celebrating Passover. Then he thought, “Perhaps that's exactly why I’m here”.
He asked the man if he would like to have a Seder. He agreed and called for his wife to come in. She entered, visibly pregnant, with two beautiful little girls, maybe five or six years old, trailing behind. Both girls were blind.
Shomo relates “We cleared off the table. I put a hat on the man's head and said, ‘Okay, we're having a Seder!
“I tried to remember the blessings and the other sentences in the proper order, but it was difficult without a Hagada and there were no Jewish books in the home at all.
“We ate the matza and used water and paper cups to recall the four cups of wine. I tried to think what the Rebbe would do if he was here. I looked at the little girls and at their mother, about to have another child, and began to tell them some things I had learned from the Rebbe.
“I told them that we have to have faith. On this night, G-d liberated our ancestors from slavery, and He liberates us, too. The husband and wife seemed to hang on every word, like they were getting nourishment just by listening.
“I told them that on Passover, we journey through our personal Egypt to freedom, and that G-d doesn't put on our shoulders more than we can carry. Once you know that, and believe it, you're already liberated. We sang songs with the children and time flew.
“At 1:00 a.m., the woman put the girls to bed and it was time for me to leave, but I had to ask the man how he knew the Rebbe. It turned out he was a leather tanner in a huge meat plant and was acquainted with a rabbi who worked at another section of the plant.
“Several months ago, his wife had become pregnant. Since there was a strong possibility that this child, too, would be born blind, their doctor recommended an abortion. He was very depressed and didn't know what to do. So he asked this rabbi, who suggested that he write a letter to the Lubavitcher Rebbe. The Rebbe wrote back, saying that they should have faith in G-d and have the child.
“As I was about to leave, the man said, ‘You know, my wife and I weren't sure about this. How are we supposed to have faith? How are we supposed to forget what is and have hope? We didn't think it was possible. But tonight, hearing about faith and how G-d gives us the strength to overcome our personal Egypt, well, now we understand."
The story has a happy ending. The woman carried to term and gave birth to a son, who was born fully sighted. Over time Shomo lost connection with the family, but years later he learned that the daughters had gotten married and that each had several children, all sighted.
To really describe the Rebbe's love for hundreds of thousands of Jews and non-Jews all over the world would be impossible. But here is one example about a poor family in the Bronx, living in a housing project for the blind and how the Rebbe had faith hand-delivered to their door.
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