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A True Story By Nachman Seltzer

Rabbi Yitzchok Wolf, runs a tight educational ship in Chicago. A wonderful school, designed from top to bottom with the advancement of his many, many students in mind. His school is full of happy kids, who love spending their days at the Cheder Lubavitch Hebrew Day School of Chicago. Sometimes he thinks back to the early days when they'd been a small operation with tens of students instead of hundreds. But those days were long in the past. Now there were students galore. But he had a problem. They had been using a very spacious building for the girls high school which fitted his student body with ease. But the lease for the building was almost up and now he was stuck at an impasse. They needed another building, it was that simple.

Obviously, this was easier said then done. Buying a new building meant entering a new fund raising phase and who in their right mind was anxious to go there? Fund raising for a new project, meant a foray into endless hours of creative thinking, coming up with a concept, davening, advertisements, key donors, locations, planning a dinner, making a dinner journal, calling tons of old donors, graphics arts, davening, visiting the future sight of the building, meeting with architects, and a million and one other things that escaped his mind right then. He wasn't looking forward, but he didn't really see any other alternative.

He was telling all this to an old friend of his, just sharing the situation as it were. His friend listened quietly, nodding his head from time to time to show that he was paying close attention. When Rabbi Wolf reached his conclusion, the friend shook his head ever so slightly; implication that he might have another idea.

"What?" Rabbi Wolf asked him, "you have a different idea?"

"I might," came the carefully, neutral response.

"Well then, share," said Rabbi Wolf.

"Before I tell you what I have in mind," his friend continued, "I need to speak with my son. You remember my son right? I've told you about him, haven't I?"

"Yes, the lawyer, right?"

"Yes, the lawyer. A really top class act. Anyway, I need to speak with him first and then I'll get back to you. But in the meantime, don't do anything yet. Don't look into any new buildings, don't speak to any potential donors or new friends. Just put everything on hold for a short while, until I get back to you. Can you do that?"

"I can do that," said Rabbi Wolf.

"Great," said the man. "I'll get back to you soon about this."

And so he did.

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"We have a meeting with my son if you're interested," the man told Rabbi Wolf. I'm hoping for good news for you. I think there's a strong possibility that you'll walk out of this meeting thrilled."

"Tell me more," Rabbi Wolf said.

"You'll find out everything at the meeting," the man insisted.

Rabbi Wolf was intrigued. He had never met the man's son and didn't understand what connection they had, or why the man would be motivated to come to his assistance when they had never met, or been introduced. On the other hand, this could be it. If there was anything that Rabbi Wolf had learned over the years; it was that you just never knew from where your assistance would come. This could be everything. It could be nothing. Hopefully his friend would come through for him.

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They walked through the halls of the law firm until they reached the office. A tastefully appointed office, with classic art on the walls and piped in music in the elevator. He had never met the man's son and wondered what type of personality he had. Well, he would find out soon enough. They turned a corner, went through another hallway and emerged before a thick wooden door. The older man swung opened the door and they entered the office.

A suite with several rooms. An office off to the side. A small kitchenette. A table in front for the secretary. She motioned them to go on, past all the rooms and on towards the conference room, cordoned off with a glass wall secluded by venetian blinds. The man knocked and they entered the room. The lawyer was seated at a conference table, bleached blond wood, with shiny finish. The entire room screamed of professionalism, of five hundred dollars an hour, of results. The lawyer was talking to two other men, motioning with his hands, speaking quickly. They said something in response. Back and forth, back and forth. Rabbi Wolf didn't know what they were talking about. Suddenly, the lawyer moved away from the table and he noticed that the man was in a wheel chair, that he seemed to be paralyzed from the waist down! Yet he seemed almost unaware of his limitations, at home in the boardroom, with the big businessmen and their multi million dollar problems.

The older man spoke to his son, "Mitch," he said. "This is Rabbi Wolf. Rabbi Wolf, Mitch." They were shaking hands.

"I would stand up Rabbi," Mitch said, "but as you can see, I can't. But it's nice to meet you. My father's told me a lot about you. Anyway, when he explained the background of your current situation to me, I thought about what I could do to help. Ran through a list of some business partners and associates and came up with a few names that were possibilities. Rabbi Wolf," he said, spreading his arms and pointing them at the two men sitting across the table, "I would like you to meet your benefactors; *Bill and Paul Ascapolous, friends from the Greek neighborhood here in Chicago. Businessmen who have long been involved with the right institutions. They feel that your educational institutions are exactly the type of places they would like to assist. In short Rabbi, the Ascapolous brothers would like to donate a building for you to use as you see fit! How does that sound?

How did that sound? That sounded like a gift from heaven. He had one question though. Why on earth would these two fine Greek gentlemen want to donate a building for him? What was in it for them?

"Gentlemen," Rabbi Wolf broke in. "Nick, George, I'm afraid I don't understand. Why are you gentlemen even considering this? Not that I'm not overjoyed by your proposal, I'm just curious as to what caused you to consider myself as a beneficiary."

The two brothers looked at one another. Both had bushy eyebrows, both were stocky and on the shortish side. Both had swarthy skin. In short Greeks. They were shrewd, their eyes wise. The older one spoke up.

"Rabbi Wolf," he said. "Allow me to explain. We are in the real estate business. Been part of it for years. We own property all over the city. There have been many good years and lean times as well, but in our business a person has to be on the lookout for change. It so happens to be that my brother and I have owned a giant theater set on a huge plot of land in Chicago for many years. It was a profitable venture for decades. Recently however, it became much less profitable what with all the copying that people do on their computers. Simply put, people aren't going out to the movies as much anymore and we found that our theater was becoming a burden to us."

He paused for breath, took a drink of water.

"Anyway," he went on, "we were here in the office talking to our good friend Mitch, who happens to be our lawyer and he mentioned that his father had told him about a man, a truly deserving man who ran an educational institution for religious Jewish kidss. Mitch's father informed him that he knew this Chabad rabbi who was in desperate need for funding so he could keep up with the needs of his institution. It was crucial that he buy a new building for the high school. Well, when we heard this bit of information we knew what we wanted to do with the theater. We were going to donate it to you to renovate according to your needs and then to use as a new building. It will be a good thing for us; we can write it for tax purposes, and it will be a great thing for you because now you have just received an extensive piece of property in a very expensive neighborhood for absolutely free. How great is that Rabbi? So what do you say? Are you in, are we going to do this?"

Rabbi Wolf thought it over. It made sense. He had just received the gift of a lifetime. He was full of gratitude to the Ribono Shel Oilam for sending him Mitch's father, who had told Mitch, who had then made it his business to convince two Greek strangers to donate an incredible property to the school for nothing!! It was wonderful. Like a dream. They shook hands. The Greeks were exuberant. They liked this rabbi and were impressed with the information they had heard about the school. They drank a l'chaim, there were thank you's all around and then the Greeks had to go to another meeting, leaving Rabbi Wolf alone with the father and son.

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"Okay Mitch," said Rabbi Wolf when they were alone, "what's going on here? I don't understand. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't recall ever having the pleasure of meeting you."

"That is correct," Mitch the lawyer said, "we never met before today."

"Well then," Rabbi Wolf said, "I would love if you cared to enlighten me as to why you decided to do this grand favor for me?"

The lawyer leaned back in his seat, loosened his tie, took a drink of water. Almost as if he was fortifying himself before he was able to relate his motivation.

Finally he spoke. "It's like this rabbi," he began. "In my line of work, you get the opportunity to meet lots of people; some of good, honest, hard working individuals, while others are corrupt, cruel or just plain crooked. One of my clients needed an acquittal desperately. But there was a problem; the man was guilty as charged. In the end, the jury recognized this despite my defense. They sentenced him to some jail time. He was frothing mad, angry in a way that made me very nervous. But what could I do? This is part of the job, isn't it?

Anyway," Mitch went on, "a few days after the sentencing, but before my client went to jail, I was sitting in my office, when there was a knock on the door and who should walk inside but this client. I wanted to scream and run the other way, maybe jump out the window, but I couldn't do anything. I was glued to my seat. The man walked into the office, and the next thing I knew, he pulled a loaded revolver out of his pocket. I didn't have time to think, to wonder whether he was really going to shoot, because before I had a chance to react, he opened fire on me; shooting me four times in the upper chest. Four times! Four bullets! Then he left me, probably thinking there was no way I could survive such an encounter. But he'd left too early. I could survive and I did. Miraculously, none of the bullets had done me any fatal damage, and an ambulance drove me off to the hospital, where I would remain for the better part of the coming year."

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"I had a really difficult time in the hospital Rabbi Wolf," Mitch said. "Although I know many people, almost none of them came to see me, to visit me, to give me flowers, a card or just a kind word. Nobody could be bothered. Almost nobody other than my father. Besides for his visits, I was very lonely. But there it was. There was nothing I could do about it. So I laid in the hospital bed and felt sorry for myself and grew depressed and complained and felt grievously wronged by a cold and uncaring world. And then Friday afternoon arrived and suddenly things began to change.

Rabbi Wolf," Mitch said, kind of sheepishly, "I'm not really a religious man, but a few hours before Shabbos, a bunch of ladies, ladies who were clearly Orthodox women came through the halls of the hospital. They were on a mission; a mission to change the lives of the people holed up in the many wards of the hospital. They handed out challos and grape juice and candles and cookies; an entire world of Shabbos joy, and suddenly I knew that I was a person and that maybe I could be loved, for hadn't I just been granted a beautiful gift by people whom I didn't even know? Things weren't so bad after all. I set the candles by my bedside, lit them and watched their glow flickering in the evening light. I ate the challos and drank the kiddush and felt the joy and serenity of Shabbos invade my soul. All from people, who didn't even know me.

I looked forward to their visit the next week as well and they didn't disappoint me. Once again, the arrived bringing the glow of Shabbos into the depressing wards of the hospital. Once again I enjoyed the freshly baked challos and wine, the cookies and other treats. I realized that this was something to look forward to every week and that was exactly what I started to do. When I asked those special women who they were; all they replied was; "we are from N'shei Chabad, the women of Chabad."

I appreciated what they did so much. They saved my life with their kindness and grace, with their smiles and gifts of Shabbos love. And I promised myself that I would repay them for the good deeds they had done."

Mitch looked Rabbi Wolf straight in the eye. "Now do you understand why I convinced my clients to give you the building?" he asked. "When my father told me about you, he also mentioned that you, Rabbi Wolf, are the principal of the Chabad institutions of Chicago. That meant the world to me. I knew there and then that I was going to find the means to repay Chabad for what they had done for me, and you, you Rabbi Wolf, were going to be the recipient on behalf of Chabad. Now do you understand?"

Rabbi Wolf understood. Mitzva gorerres mitzva; one good deed leads to another. N'shei Chabad had done their best and Hashem had repayed them gloriously for their actions.

As heard from Rabbi Yitzchok Wolf