From: murray.bbs@cybernet.cse.fau.edu
Newsgroups: soc.culture.jewish
Subject: L'Chaim 7 of 8
Date: 2 Sep 92 14:20:02 GMT
Organization: Florida Atlantic University, Boca Raton

***********************************************************************   
  
L'CHAIM                    ISSUE  #   230                   PART 7 OF 8
***********************************************************************   
  
                          IT HAPPENED ONCE
***********************************************************************
 
   Reb  Mordechai Liepler's son fell seriously ill and the doctors were
not encouraging.  "A virus appears to have infected his bone marrow and
his bones are withering away," they diagnosed. "We know of no cure."
 
   Reb  Mordechai immediately dispatched a letter  to the Mittler Rebbe
explaining  the desperate situation.  He calculated that  it would take
five days for  the letter to  get to Lubavitch, and  five days for  the
Rebbe's answer to return. Thus, he expected to receive an answer in ten
days.
 
   Ten days were up and Reb Mordechai stood outside waiting impatiently
for the postman.
 
   "Sorry, nothing for you  today," called the postman as he passed by,
shaking his head. Reb Mordechai met with the same disappointment on the
following day as well.
 
   However, on the third day, the postman had some news. "Yes, I have a
letter for you, but I  am in a terrible rush today and  don't have time
to look for it," he called hurrying on.
 
   Reb  Mordechai ran  after  him,  pulled  at  his  bag  and  searched
frantically for the long-awaited letter.
 
   "What's  your  rush  today?" he  asked  as  he  fumbled through  the
envelopes.
 
   "One  of the Czar's relatives living in  our district fell ill and a
royal physician  was summoned all  the way from  Austria. Today, he  is
scheduled to return to  Vienna and it is my duty  to arrange a carriage
for his journey," explained the postman.
 
   Just  then, Reb Mordechai found the  letter and opened it quickly as
the postman  busied himself straightening out  his bag.     "I received
your letter," the note from the  Mittler Rebbe stated. "I see that help
will come to you from far and near." Added on the bottom of  the letter
was a note  of advice. "Do not  stint on money."     The information  I
just  received from the  postman may be that  very assistance the Rebbe
foresaw,  thought Reb Mordechai. "Where  is that doctor  now?" he asked
the  postman.      Upon receiving  the address,  Reb Mordechai  set out
immediately towards the house. Evidently, he  was not the only one  who
had heard of the doctor's arrival. Many people were standing on line in
the courtyard hoping to be allowed a consultation.    Being a prominent
and well-respected figure,  Reb Mordechai was pushed  through the crowd
and managed to  gain access to the doctor.  Describing his son's severe
condition, Reb Mordechai begged the doctor to treat him.    "I'm sorry,
my time is  very limited and I must be on  my way back to Vienna," came
the curt  reply.    Reb Mordechai  recalled the Rebbe's advice. "I will
pay you one thousand rubles for your trouble," he offered.  This sum of
money persuaded the doctor  to delay his departure, and  he accompanied
Reb  Mordechai to  his home.     "Your  son has an  infection which has
spread  to his bone marrow. Though this disease is considered incurable
here in Russia, a new medicine  has recently been developed in Austria.
I may by chance have a sample in the case of medication I brought along
with me.  If  I do,  summon a  local  doctor and  I will  instruct  him
regarding its application."     Sure enough, the medicine was found and
in due time,  Reb Mordechai's  son recovered. Thus,  the Rebbe's  words
proved  exact. Help came "from near and  from afar." The doctor arrived
"from  afar." The appropriate medication  was found in  his case, "from
near," and were it  not for the advice not  to spare money, the  doctor
would not have come. ***
   The phrase "Ba'alei  Cheshbon" refers  to people who  take stock  of
their  behavior,  confronting   themselves  and   trying  to   improve.
Literally, the term means, "owners of accounts." Reb Shmuel Gronem used
the following parable to illustrate the relevance of the term's literal
meaning.
 
   At the  close of a  fiscal year,  a merchant was  having a  business
meeting with his  accountant. Pouring  over the  books, the  accountant
described  how the yearly balance  was very poor.  Indeed, the business
was bordering on  bankruptcy.     Caught by  surprise, the  unfortunate
businessman collapsed in shock and was revived with great difficulty.  
Why did he faint and not  the accountant? The accountant knew the sorry
state   of  the  businessman's   affairs  much  better   than  he  did.
Nevertheless, his  knowledge was abstract, for the  account belonged to
someone  else. In  contrast,  the businessman  was  "the owner  of  the
account."  It was  his financial  future that  hung in  the balance.   
"Such  an  approach," Reb  Shmuel  Gronem explained,  "also  applies in
regard  to  improving our  behavior. We  shouldn't  look at  our faults
abstractly, but rather see them as problems which affect us." Reprinted
with permission from "My Father's Shabbos Table" by Rabbi Y. Chitrick.
 
---
 * Origin: L'Chaim BBS - KESHERnet NYC node2 (718-756-7201) (1:278/610)
Newsgroups: soc.culture.jewish