Baruch held his breath. There was someone else in the basement! His mind was racing, he had followed the signs. He was supposed to be here, but who else was here?!?”
Baruch quietly closed the door behind him and tiptoed into the room. Baruch kept thinking of the passport: the empty, blank paper. He did NOT know what was about to happen. And that was okay. He felt a wave of emunah wash over him. He felt calm. Hashem knew what was going on. He took a deep breath. Ein Od Milvado – the only thing in this world is Hashem.
He opened his eyes, and saw someone near the cholent pot in the middle of the room. This cholent pot powered the whole Time Machine. If it was unplugged, or emptied, the whole machine would stop working. The man was working feverishly. He was breaking the Time Machine! The man twisted off a pipe that connected directly to the crock pot. It came off in his hands, and he shoved it into his pocket. Baruch tried to scream, but he simply couldn’t get a sound to come out. The man climbed up on a chair and swiftly escaped out a window and into the night.
Baruch felt like he was going to cry. What was he going to do? Where was Mr. Shpeiter? Baruch slowly walked over to the crock pot to survey the damage. The crock pot sat there, silent and sad, the pipes dangling helplessly next to it. He slipped on a piece of paper on the floor. He looked down, and his breath stopped. The paper said, “Baruch” just like the paper outside had said. He reached down to pick it up. There was another story.
The Yidden huddled together in the DP (displaced persons) camps. After the war, their hearts ached to do mitzvos like they used to. It was Chanukah, and in the middle of the crowd stood the heiligeh Klausenberger Rebbe, about to light the menorah. The Rebbe made the first brachah, then he made the second. Then he stopped. He clenched his eyes tight, smiled, made the brachah of “Shehecheyanu,” and lit the candles. After lighting, as the crowd dispersed, a man came over. “How could the Rebbe say “Shehecheyanu” after all we’ve lost?!? The Rebbe replied,”I had the same question. But then I looked around at all the Yidden here – broken, displaced, and some of them the only survivor of their families. And yet, here they are. Yearning to do mitzvos. Thank you Hashem for bringing me to a moment like this!”
The story ended. Baruch took a deep breath. It wasn’t going to be easy, but this was where Hashem put him. He would rise to the challenge. He climbed up onto the chair and went out the window, into the night.
Continued next week…
This article was found in Nekuda Tova Issue 26.