An Attack of Appreciation

The following story was sent to our office in France by Mrs. Chana Keren, who lives in Israel:

In March 2008, my daughter awoke one night in a cold sweat on account of a nightmare. She had seen herself lying in an ambulance, bruised and bloodied. The next morning, I called up my father, an adherent of Rabbi David Pinto, shlita. I asked that he donate to the Rav’s institutions as a merit for protection for my daughter.

Two days later, my daughter fell near a very sharp object. B’chasdei Shamayim, she only broke her hand. Her face, which was very close to the sharp object, remained unharmed.

141. Mrs. Chana Keren’s letter

A few months later, I myself had a strange dream. I was sitting in a car. In the distance, I discerned a fire and a heap of cars, one piled on the other. Shouts and screams came from all sides, and smoke encompassed everything.

The next day, I once again called up my father, asking him to mention my name to Rabbi David Pinto for a blessing.

On July 21, one week after this disturbing dream, I was planning to travel to the Kotel with my sister-in-law. The night before, I had another nightmare. I was sitting in a room crammed with hundreds of Jews. Everyone was shouting and crying. The scene reminded me of descriptions of the Holocaust. I suddenly stood up in front of everyone and cried out, “Do not be afraid! Have faith in Hashem! He loves us, His Chosen People! He gave us the Torah! Pray that He release us! Get up, everybody, and turn to the King of kings in supplication!”

As the dream unfolded, I saw that all of the Jews were brought into a courtroom. In the center, stood a judge, who cast judgment upon each one individually. I stood up and asked for permission to leave because my baby needed me. The judge allowed me to go out.

Once outside, I fell on my face and prayed, “Ribbono shel Olam! I love You more than anything, even my own children. I thank You, King of all kings, for everything You give me.”

I finally awoke. Fear and worry filled my heart. My entire body trembled with emotion.

The next morning, I once again contacted my father in France. But this time, he insisted that I myself place the call to Rabbi David. My mother added that I should delay my trip to the Kotel until after I heard from the Rav. I dialed the Rav and waited a good few minutes until he answered.

“Honored Rav,” I began. “Once again, I had a nightmare.”

But the Rav cut off my words. “Wait a moment,” he declared. After some tension-filled moments, he continued, “Everything will be fine from now on.” When I tried to continue with my account of my dream, all he would say was, “Everything will be fine from now on. Go in peace.”

I hung up the phone and went with my sister-in-law to Yerushalayim, as we had planned. We noticed a huge traffic jam a few streets before the Old City, just as I had envisioned, one week earlier.

Policemen were guiding traffic. We were informed that ten minutes earlier, there had been a terrible terror attack. A murderous tractor driver had wantonly mowed down cars and pedestrians alike. In this sadistic incident, many lives were lost, may Hashem avenge their blood. Many others were injured, rachmana litzlan.

The ten minutes I had spent trying to reach the Rav to tell him about my dreams, and then the phone call itself, in which the Rav waited for a while and then proclaimed that everything would be in order, were the moments which saved me from certain death. This is how my sister-in-law and I were spared the Yerushalayim massacre of July 22, 2008.

As soon as I returned home, I phoned Rabbi David, shlita, to report the tremendous miracle which I had experienced. I thanked him from the bottom of my heart for saving me from the maws of mendacity.

The next week, I discovered that I was expecting a baby. Now the puzzle pieces fit neatly together. My unborn baby was the one who needed me in my dream of the courthouse.

There is no doubt that it was the merit of my forefathers which stood by me to help this woman avoid any harm in the holy city, Yerushalayim.