A Winning Career
Many decades ago, before I had the merit to be involved in public service, Father once called me in to speak with me. “You must continue our ancestors’ tradition in the study and dissemination of Torah throughout the world. The chain of our family’s holiness must not be severed!” Then he added, “I would also like to ask you to conduct an annual major celebration in Casablanca on the day of the hilula of our holy grandfather, Rabbi Chaim Pinto, zy”a. In the merit of this practice, you will be assisted by Heaven to continue our family’s legacy.” This was Father’s mandate at the commencement of my career.
- With his father, the Tzaddik, Rabbi Moshe Aharon, zy”a, and his son, Rabbi Refael, shlita
In those days, Morocco never witnessed a hilula commemorating a tzaddik in grandeur, as is common practice today. Many of Morocco’s Jews did not see a future in their homeland and emigrated to more promising shores. Father’s request that I celebrate the hilula in style seemed a far-fetched idea. But I was bound by Father’s command, which, in my mind, was absolute. I therefore accepted it without question.
As the date of the hilula drew near, I traveled to Morocco and did my best to arrange a respectable affair. In spite of my efforts, only a few people showed up. As can be imagined, I was deeply disappointed.
The months passed. It was time to arrange the next hilula. But memories of the previous one emerged in my mind’s eye, and I decided to forego the headache and the hassle. Furthermore, I did not have the means to fund a hilula, which includes a large banquet as well as travel and lodging expenses for many people.
When Father heard of my decision, he was greatly distressed. He coaxed and cajoled me to arrange the ceremony, in spite of the difficulties involved. His sincere words, emanating from his pure heart, penetrated my own. Within a short time, I found myself, once again, on a plane making its way to Morocco. I had exactly four days to make all the arrangements. Furthermore, I had the grand sum of a few coins to pay for all the expenses.
In despair, I ascended to the grave of my grandfather, Rabbi Chaim Pinto, zy”a. With a broken heart and hot tears, I told the tzaddik, “I came here to conduct a hilula in your honor. Please ask Hashem for the means to honor you appropriately.”
After this prayer, I felt calm. My grandfather’s merit imbued me with a sense of faith in my mission. I no longer felt alone, and my burden became lighter. I made my way to the home of my host, R’ Mordechai Knafo, z”l, a wonderful man, who opened his door and his heart to me.
Suddenly, I had a brainstorm. I decided to ask him for a loan of 2,600,000 dram (Moroccan currency), the equivalent of $3,000. In those days, this was an exorbitant sum. I wanted to arrange a magnificent celebration. But R’ Knafo sadly said he didn’t have such money at his disposal.
Left with no choice, I made my way back to the tzaddik’s grave. I pleaded, “It is well-known that tzaddikim are called living even after death. Ribbono shel Olam, give me some sort of sign that my forefathers are evoking merit on High to help me in my plight so that I can celebrate the hilula on time and in proper fashion.” I added that if the tzaddikim on High would work on my behalf, this hilula would be the turning point in my life. I would devote myself to bringing merit to the public and broadcast Hashem’s Name and the virtues of my fathers throughout the world.
After returning to my host’s home, he suggested we purchase lottery tickets. Maybe Hashem would have mercy on us, and we would win the big prize. This would fund the hilula in the grandest way possible.
At first, I dismissed his suggestion. I was afraid that if we did not win, I would lose the little bit of money I had, which was specified for my return fare. But after much persuasion, I was finally convinced. We each bought a lottery ticket and asked Hashem to help us. After a few hours, the unbelievable occurred: Both of our tickets contained the winning numbers, each equivalent to the exact amount I had specified earlier. We were in utter shock, astounded at the Hand of Providence, which so quickly worked on our behalf.
That year, the tzaddik’s hilula was celebrated jubilantly, in grand style. The miracle I had experienced energized me to invest every ounce of strength in the hilula. And it continues to recharge me, every year, to arrange a festive hilula ceremony. Thousands have come to participate, from every corner of the globe and all walks of life.
After this wonderful turn of events, R’ Knafo has occasionally asked me to help him choose numbers on a lottery ticket, promising to split the winnings with me. But we never again met with success. This fact drives home the point that our singular winning was designated for the hilula expenses and strengthening my resolve to maintain this practice. I also took it to mean that I should continue in my forefathers’ ways of bringing merit to the public.
