The atmosphere in the kollel of our institutions in Paris was one of gaiety, as Purim was on its way. Suddenly, a young man, Uriel, entered, his face boding no good. He immediately walked up to me and burst into tears. It took some time until he could contain himself. He pointed to his head while he sobbed.
I thought he was gesturing that he suffered from strong migraines. I tried calming him down and blessed him in the merit of my forefathers and his firm faith that his headaches should disappear.
But the blessing did not work its usual charm. He would not be appeased. He had undergone testing that day, and the results indicated a tumor in his head. I instructed him to repeat the tests and promised him that everything would be fine.
The next day, he excitedly reported that the doctors were in utter shock at the surprising results. “They saw and were indeed astounded,” as the pasuk states in Tehillim. The day before, they clearly saw a tumor, and today it was completely gone.
When I first saw Uriel, I had assumed that he suffered from strong headaches which could go away at any given time. That was why I blessed him with such confidence. Had I known that it was a question of a cancerous growth, I might not have been so assured of his complete recovery and might not have prayed so earnestly.
But Hashem arranged it that I would not be aware of the gravity of the situation. I prayed sincerely, and the merit of this prayer, coupled with my pure faith that the young avrech would recover, indeed earned him recovery.
It was in the merit of my forefathers, zy”a, that my prayers soared heavenward. The merit of their Torah study brought Hashem to have pity on this man and send him a refuah sheleimah.
