No Way, José
A Mexican gentile boy went missing. His parents, middle-income people who worked in a factory, tried to find their lost child, but met against a brick wall. The factory owner was a Jew who used to come to me for blessings and advice in the merit of my holy fathers. When I arrived in Mexico, four months after the boy had disappeared, the broken parents came to me, relating their sorry story. They said that in spite of all their efforts, they did not have the thread of a clue as to his whereabouts.
I asked them, “Did your son, by any chance, mention the city Acapulco before he disappeared? Did he ask to travel there?”
“No,” was their definite answer.
“Did he smoke drugs?” I pressed onward.
To the best of their knowledge, he did not.
- The Mexican boy who was missing, together with his parents
“Does he by any chance, have a friend named José?”
“We have no idea.”
I instructed them to return home and pray to Hashem for their son’s safety, as they had been doing until now. I added, “G-d willing, you will return to me on Sunday, together with your son.”
The parents were stunned by my words. They left my room with hope in their hearts. The very next day, their son called up from the bus stop. He had just arrived from Acapulco. He asked that they come to get him.
That Sunday, the three of them came to see me. Before he could open his mouth, I asked, “Who is José?”
He answered that it was an older youth who had taught him how to smoke drugs.
I then turned to the father and warned him, “Make sure not to strike your son, because the next time he runs away, he won’t come back!”
This incident caused ripples throughout the city, causing a great kiddush Hashem. The gentiles, too, were impressed by this miracle that happened to one of theirs.
