Shamayim is Watching YOU

The name 'Aharon ben Chaya' most probably says nothing to you, you never heard this name and you will probably never hear his name. But for me, he was everything to me. He was my life and my reason for living. "Arahale" was my son whom we waited long hard years till he finally arrived. When he was born, we gave him the best of everything. Anything a father can give his only son. When our second son was born, I united the 2 brothers inside my heart. I saw my life thru them, and they were my happiness. People used to tell us that we have the most unique 2 sons, and they were right. Years of happiness went by, years of pleasure.

Till that day arrived, a month ago. It was the worst day of my life. I woke up in the morning and looked at my Arahale. He looked strange. I came closer to him and he was boiling hot. His face and body was red hot and his breathing was irregular. My soul almost left me when I saw a strange rash on his body, a rash I never witnessed before. My heart said this is bad news and without understanding, I had a terrible feeling...

I quickly carried him to the car and drove to the hospital. At the hospital I heard from the doctor what I so much did not want to hear. Bacteria. Devouring bacteria. Quickly, a staff of doctors wheeled my Aharale into the emergency room trying to save his life. Without anyone telling me, I felt it's a dead-end. I saw the despair in the doctors' eyes. Arahale's body was unable to accept the strong antibiotics treatment. I saw the dead eyes of the doctors when they came to tell me that his body is failing. I saw his quivering body, the heavy breathing, his fight for life and I knew that the conclusion will not be in my benefit.

I pushed this bad feeling away and asked my friends to pray, to go to Tzaddikim and to go to burial grounds of Tzaddikim. I also asked a friend of mine since he lives in southern Israel to go to the burial ground of A., one of the greatest Mekubalim of the last generation. I thought that maybe in their merits, at this terrible moment, Aharale will be saved. My heart became like a rock, as if it melted from so many tears.

This is how the day passed, the Sunday of the beginning of the month. The day turned into darkness, and I felt my own personal setting of the sun. The neshama (soul) of Arahale went to Shamayim and I was left devastated.

Again we have only one son.

The shock was complete, it is unneccessary to describe it. I'm unable to describe it, when I went depressed to Aharale's bed, my sweetheart's bed who was so young. The next days were like a nightmare, we found no peace, no comfort. We didn't know why this happened to us. We believe there is judgment and Judge, we have faith and HaShem is Just but tears of blood filled up the house. We tried analyzing why HaShem did this to us but were unable to find a conclusive answer.

A., one of Gdolei HaDor came to our house to comfort us during the Shiva. I asked him and persistently pleaded from him to tell us something define and conclusive why this happened to us and how we can improve and correct. After much pleading, he finally answered, "Check in the matter of interpersonal relationship". We searched if we ever harmed anyone but could not find it. We had no enemies.

The 7 days of the Shiva passed. May you never know of such pain.

Upon our return from the burial ground of our beloved dead son, Aharale, we went to pick up our only remaining living son by the babysitter. As if I am dreaming, I feel his forehead burning hot. I thought I am hallucinating. I ran to the nearest person and asked him to check my son and the stranger was shocked, "Your son is burning. Run to the hospital."

My heart was fluttering, I thought I was collapsing. I silently yelled to our Aba, our Father in Heaven, "This is the only son I have - he is all I have". It took me a few minutes to realize that I must drive quickly to the emergency room. Again, I found myself at the gates of this horrible building where a week ago I lost my dearest son. Believe me, as I am writing this to you, I cannot stop to the tears. I am reliving it as I am writing it. But the feeling of being a messenger forces me to continue...

I knew the whole staff of doctors and they recognized me right away. They were dumbfounded to see me a second time within a week with my remaining child. Again, they quickly wheeled my young son into the emergency room and hooked him to all sorts of machinery. Again, I hear in my head the Doctors' announcement that... The same bacteria, devouring my remaining living son. But this time it was in the early stages. "There may be a chance that your son will live," said the doctor. I cried, I cried hysterically. My wife was in total depressed shock. The doctors were working overtime, fighting to save our remaining son alive. They know that this is the real war and every second is vital. An Orthodox nurse saw me crying and my wife in a state of shock, and with a few short words returned us to reality. He shook me like one shakes a frozen package and yelled, "You can still pray now". The emphasis on the word 'now' tore me from my hysterics. It was if he was saying 'hurry up, don't be late.'

Like a madman I ran outside the hospital and stopped a taxi (I didn't trust myself to drive), and went to Yerushalayim, straight to the Kotel (Western Wall). I never cried in my life the way I cried at the Kotel. If I thought that after a week of tears, the well of tears dried up, I was proven that I didn't even begin to touch the edge of tears. I yelled Tehillim and pleaded with the Creator of the World to save me and not take away my little Shlomo'le. The name "Shlomo ben Chaya" was heard at the Kotel that night more than once. I felt that the public at the Kotel were praying with me and joining me in my cries but I had no room in my heart to feel it, my heart was fluttering over only one thing - Shlomo'le, Shlomo'le, and again, Shlomo'le.

A moment before leaving the Kotel, I asked for one more thing. I felt an inner urge telling me to ask also for this. I stood depressed and asked the Creator of the World, "Teach me my wrongdoings. Tell me why I have been striked upon. Why am I being punished? Enlight my heart so I can correct my wrongdoings before it's too late."

I knew what when children die young it is the fault of the sins of parents. I vowed I will improve my ways and my behavior to save my little Shlomo'le, my light.

I returned to the hospital and the doctors told me that Shlomo's condition has stabilized but he is still in great danger. They said the next 24 hours are the most critical hours to decide if Shlomo will live or c'v, die.

I said Tehillim, I knew that nothing else can help. It was during the time I was saying Tehillim that I fell asleep in the waiting room, right by the emergency room where my son Shlomo'le was fighting for his life.

And I had a dream. A clear dream, as if it was occuring in real life. I am not a dreamer, and never paid attention to dreams. But in this dream, I felt that it was so real and every word that was said was so accurate, it was as if the Divine Spirit was speaking to me.

In my dream, I see my Ahara'le, my little Araha'le, zs'l. He looked so fine, his sidelocks were neatly arranged and he was dressed in clothing of Shabbat. Sitting next to him was his younger brother, my sweet Shlomo'le. At the head of the table was my Teacher, my Rebbe, zs'kl. He was one of the biggest Tzaddik Mekubal of our generation. When he was physically alive, whenever I had the chance, I would go to him . His face was shining but he was looking at me angrily. I approached him and held the brim of his robe and burst out crying. I pleaded with him to operate in Shamayim for my son Shlomo'le' health. Shlomo ben Chaya to have complete recovery.

I saw that his eyes were blazing, piercing thru me. I searched my Rebbe for a fatherly glance, the way he used to glance at me with mercy when he was alive, but could not find it. I felt he was being strict on me. I yelled in tears and asked him, "Teach me Rabbenu what I must correct".

And then I heard his voice, which till now is ringing in my ears, as if he is reading it from a large antique Sefer. ""כל המבזה תלמידי חכמים אין לו רפואה למכתו, אמר רב יהודה אמר רב מאי דכתיב אל תגעו במשיחי ובנביאי אל תרעו אל תגעו במשיחי אלו תינוקות של בית רבן ובנביאי אל תרעו אלו תלמידי חכמים (שבת קיט:)".
Anyone that ridicules a learned man (Talmid Chacham), there is no medicine for him. Rav Yehuda says don't touch my Moshiachs and don't harm my prophets. The Moshiachs are that youngsters of Torahs and the prophets are learned men."

My Rebbe read it several times, his voice getting louder and more threatening each time.

I was confused. I did not know why he said this. He looked at me with blazing eyes. Piercing gaze. Eliminating gaze. I felt I was unable to stand near him. And then he said, as if reading my thoughts, "You say you don't know why there is froth of anger on you. You don't understand what I showed you. Why are you 'playing dumb'? Remember your behavior. Did you not insult the honor of learned men lately?"

Believe me, I still did not know. I never thought that writing negative thing about Rabbanim on the internet is considered insulting learned men. And then I heard his voice, angry at me in a way I never heard before in my life. He said, "לשווא הכתי את בניכם מוסר לא לקחו For nothing I strike your children, and a lesson they did not learn." "You buried one son already, and now your second son is on the way. Do you still not know where you failed?"

I burst out crying. And then he said in a softer voice, "You have awoken Heaven's mercy with your prayers. I was sent to reveal to you why you are being prosecuted". And then he read in a loud voice, ""יושב בביתו צדיק הדור, זה אשר קדשוהו שמים, ודבריו נשמעים למעלה תמיד. מנהיג רבבות וממשיך עליהם שפע קדש, והוא עמוד התווך שעליו נשען הדור החשוך הזה. כל משאלתו רק להטיב את צאן מרעיתו, לרוממם ולהטיבם. בגשמיות וברוחניות. מרבה תורה ודקדוק הלכה בצורה שאין דוגמתה בדור הזה".
A Tzaddik of the generation sits in his house, the one who sanctifies HaShem's name and his words are always heard in heaven. He leads revavot (thousands) and pours spiritual abundance on them, and he is the arbitration pillar that this dark generation leans on. All he wants is to better his flock, to spiritually lift them. He learns much Torah and is very precise in every Halacha (Jewish law). There is no other like him in this generation."

Now I understood. I completely understood why I was being prosecuted. I was prosecuted for humiliating the Rav. Oy to me and Oy Vey to my soul. I understood everything.

My Rebbe, zs'l, continued, "Without any shame you and and your friends became damaging tools for the Sitra Achra (the SM) to damage and sabotage by spreading lies and abomination. To tarnish that holy leader and his followers".

"The Heavenly Court sat and judged your despised acts of humiliating learned men and this is the reason you were punished with death of the youngsters of the Torah. Your Aharon'le was taken away, before his time, and you still did not understand what was wanted from you. The sentence of Judgment was prosecuting against you with all its might, till it almost succeeded taking away your remaining son, Shlomo'le. His place in Shamayim is awaiting him."

At that moment, Shlomo'le pointed at the nearby pillar, looking so innocent. "It's not too late. You have awoken the Mercy at the right time, and now the Judgment is given in your hand. If you will not return to do this ever again, and try to correct the damage you have caused, and do Teshuva, the life of your child will be returned as a gift". "But if not, then not!".

His voice returned to loud and threatening, "If not, the words written in Gemara will occur, "There will be no medicine for you, c'v."

He added in a sweeter voice, "If you listen to my advice, advertise this story as it is, word for word in the same places you participated writing humiliating things about learned men. Announce to all your freinds there that you were punished. Everyone should know there is Judgment and there is Judge. Also, be strict to warn other and awaken them from their evil ways, to stop speaking and spreading evil about Tzaddikim. When you will do as I say, then go to the said Tzaddik and ask him for his forgivness. You may reveal only to him who I am and what I said."

I vowed to do exactly as I was told and begged my Rebbe to plead mercy on my behalf and not be punished further. It was I who caused Arahale's untimely death, z'l. I saw the Tzaddik turn towards my sweet Arahale. He then left me with Shlomo'le alone.

It was then that I woke up, comletely wet with sweat, and with urgent panick, I ran inside the emergency room to check on my sweet Shlomo'le, is he still alive? I saw an immense improvement. I called the staff of doctors to check if I was hallucinating but they confirmed that without justified explaination, the boy is doing much better.

It is unnecessary to say that within a day, my Shlomo'le was released from the hospital, healthy as an ox, b'h.

My dear freinds, I know that some of you will be cynical and degrade my story. But listen to a father that lost his young son and save yourselves from ever being in the situation I am in, chalila (G.od forbid). I am offering you the truth, the way it was commanded to me. Listen and learn, any humiliating writing on learned men, Tzaddik, Rebbe is very dangerous. The one who is smart will learn from my experience and will not have to learn it from his own experience, c'v. Don't kill your children, as I killed my sweetheart son, Aharale, z'l.

If you ask why I merited to this great revelation, you most probably do not understand or know the tremendeous pain of a father that could have lost a second son within a week.

Signed today; the end of the 30th day of the untimely death of Aharon ben Chaya, z'l.

translated from http://hydepark.hevre.co.il/topic.asp?topic_id=2359434