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Walking On A Cloud

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With so much to do before our recent trip, I was walking on a cloud.

It must have been evident to one and all, since my feet barely touched the ground.

Who would have believed that I would arrive at this special time – so grateful am I to HaKadosh Baruch Hu?

Baruch Hashem, I am a bubbie now. But when I was 21 years old and married for a year, three doctors told me that I would never have children if I insisted on keeping the “antiquated” family purity laws.

At the time, we called Rav Moshe Feinstein, zt”l, who invited us over from our Hartford, Connecticut home to discuss our situation. When I was ushered into Rav Moshe’s study and locked eyes with the rosh yeshiva, I burst into tears. My future was in Rav Moshe’s hands. I was frightened and awestruck.

Smiling, Rav Moshe just looked at me and asked my husband why I was upset since “you are young?” (I felt anything but young.) We talked and Rav Moshe gave us berachos and eitzahs. What a zechus, I felt. I couldn’t believe that I was privileged to speak with the posek hador.

Two years later we were off to England, where my husband was commissioned as an Air Force chaplain. A family friend referred me to a specialist. It was then that I gave my husband reshus to write to the Lubavitcher Rebbe, zy”a. I had held back for quite some time, having heard many stories about the Rebbe. If he knew that my future did not include the blessing of children, I didn’t want to know. But write we did.

At that time there was no superhighway reaching London, the location of the mikveh. In the summertime, when Shabbos ended after 10 p.m., it was quite an adventure to make a round-trip to and from the mikveh. Obviously it was impossible to go on time on a Friday night or Yom Tov, and, just my luck, that Friday night indeed was my appointed time to go. I held my ground in insisting that I had to go on time (My husband said that he didn’t recognize what had gotten into me.)

The mivkeh was located in a dangerous section of North London. We were going to stay in a hotel for Shabbos. (Sometime later, the rabbanim forbade women to go to this mikveh on Friday nights and Yom Tovim. The mikveh has since moved to a safer neighborhood.)

For the first time in five years, I felt calm. If Hashem deemed this to be the appropriate time that He would fulfill my heartfelt tefillos, I would be thrilled beyond measure. If not, I would still not give up hope.

Two weeks later, I received a berachah from the Rebbe. The date of the letter coincided with the date that I had gone to the mikveh – on time! When consulting with the Rebbe about infertility issues, he would often suggest that one check his or her mezuzos and tefillin, or review the halachos of taharas hamishpacha. In our case, the Rebbe only asked us to give him both of our mother’s names. He said that he would daven at the tziyon of his saintly father-in-law and that we should hear “besoros tovos.”

Nine months later my bechorah, my Rivkie, was born.

We are now celebrating the bar mitzvah of her dear son, Meir.

So yes, I am walking on a cloud, so grateful am I to HaKadosh Baruch Hu for “fulfilling my heart’s desire” (frequent berachah of the Rebbe) beyond my expectations.

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