The Picture of Purity

When I was in New York, a Jew named Menachem T., who prayed at the Yad Avraham Beit Hakeneset, approached me, asking for a blessing for his sick father.

This story took place before Menachem was a ba’al teshuvah. His clothing attested to his detachment from all things Jewish. Nevertheless, I told him, “The fact that you came to ask for a berachah from a rabbi proves that you are a believer. It is up to you now to take that belief to the next level, strengthening your faith and knowledge of Judaism.”

I asked, “Were your parents mitzvah-observant?”

“No,” he replied, adding, “I’m not completely certain, but I am pretty sure that there were never mitzvah observers in our family.”

I replied, “Someone who looks at you would have a hard time believing that you had a righteous grandfather. I want to ask you to do something. Go to your parents’ house and look through their albums. Find a picture of your grandfather. If he had a beard and payot, it is a sign from Heaven that his merit will stand by you. If this weren’t the case, you would not have approached me to begin with. This might also be a sign that you should become a ba’al teshuvah, thereby bringing merit to your father, for a complete recovery.”

Menachem continued, “As far as I know, there were no religious Jews in my family. It is difficult to imagine that my grandfather had a beard and payot.”

“What can you lose? Please do as I ask and see what you come up with.”

Menachem’s parents lived in Netanya. He took a plane and flew over the Atlantic, in search of the picture. He rifled through their albums, until, to his utter surprise, he came upon the image of a distinguished-looking man, adorned with a full beard and payot.

Menachem studied the picture. On the back, he read one word, “Menachem.” He immediately approached his father, asking him whose picture this was.

“This was my father, of blessed memory, after whom you are named.”

At that very moment, something stirred in Menachem’s heart. The spark of Judaism, contained in every Jewish soul, was fanned into the fire of teshuvah.

After some time, when Menachem’s father began noticing the change in his son, he told him, “I can now leave this world in peace, for I know that there is someone who will say Kaddish for me.”

The man passed away that same day.

As long as the son did not do teshuvah, restoring to the family its rightful birthright, the father battled his illness, amidst tremendous suffering. His soul refused to leave its earthly abode. Once the father saw that he was leaving his family’s heritage in good hands, his soul was calmed, and he was able to rest in peace.