Drowning in Faith

A top specialist of the Lugassi family of Marseille used to be distant from Torah and mitzvah observance. He once traveled to Morocco. There he visited the ancient cemetery in Essaouira. He made his way among thousands of tombstones, in the hope of finding the grave of his grandfather, Rabbi Meir Lugassi, zy”a.

To his dismay, he could not find the tomb marking his grandfather’s grave. Instead, he prayed at the grave of the tzaddik, Rabbi Chaim Pinto, zy”a. He declared that if he found the grave of his grandfather, he would resolve to do complete teshuvah.

He continued walking among the ruins of broken and damaged tombstones. Suddenly, he noticed a flock of doves converging upon a grave and then flying upward. It continued doing this several times. When he came close to the grave, the entire flock flew away, save for one bird, which remained standing on the monument. Imagine his pleasant surprise upon discovering his grandfather’s name etched into it, together with his date of death. The bird, as if understanding that its job was done, spread its wings and flew off to join its friends.

The man did not forget his promise. He did complete teshuvah. Excitedly, he related to me all that had happened. To add drama to an already dramatic tale, just before he began his story, I noticed a tremendous flock of doves flying overhead. I called out, “How wonderful are Your works, Hashem. Thousands of birds fly in synchronization to fulfill Hashem’s word.”

When the man heard my remark, he was puzzled. “How does the Rav know that it was the doves which directed me to the grave of my grandfather?” I truly had not known this fact. After hearing his tale, we both understood that Hashem had orchestrated each detail precisely.

Every year, this man participates at the hilula of the tzaddik, Rabbi Chaim Pinto, zy”a, in Morocco. Baruch Hashem, it was during one such celebration that he found his life partner, establishing a fine Jewish home together with her.

Ten years later, on the eighth of Av, Mrs. Lugassi called me up in a panic. Her four-year old son, whose hair I had cut the previous year, had gone out to the family swimming pool, with no adult supervision. When the family noticed he was gone, they rushed out to the pool, where they discovered his body floating on the water. His mother began shrieking for the merit of Rabbi Chaim Pinto, whose grandson, Rabbi David, had cut this boy’s hair, to save her son from certain death.

Her prayers were accepted. Suddenly, a stranger appeared. He jumped into the water and took out the boy. He pumped out vast amounts of water from the little body. Then he performed CPR until the child regained consciousness. When he saw that the boy was okay, he left as he had come. Meanwhile, paramedics of Hatzalah appeared on the scene. They pronounced a revealed miracle. According to the dictates of logic, this boy should have drowned.

The prayers of his mother, coming from the depths of her heart, ascended to the Heavenly Throne, vanquishing the natural order. In the merit of the tzaddik, Rabbi Chaim Pinto, the boy lived.