The Power of a Mitzvah

Not long ago I discovered how important it is for Jewish men to be grateful when they are approached at the market or in a coffee shop or anywhere by dedicated Jewish servants of Hashem who ask them if they want to don tefillin (phylacteries). When we perform mitzvot (G-d’s commandments) we spread goodness and light not just to ourselves but to the entire world, especially when we perform them publicly and engage others to do the same. Then more people acquire the power to overcome even the greatest darkness. The connection to G-d provides intense spiritual light to the most secular, materialistic environment. That lesson became very clear one day, in which a publicly displayed mitzvah resulted in the saving of a life. It was no coincidence that I was privy to a most miraculous experience.

One day I received a call from my neighbor wanting to share a story. She had been on her own spiritual journey for a while, and when we started studying together, she became aware that Hashem was giving her all sorts of messages to continue her journey of discovery. The reason for her call was to apprise me of what happened following her seventeen-year-old son’s dental appointment. She stopped off for a snack at a yogurt shop nearby, and a young man happened to walk up to her and ask if she was Jewish and if her son had ever put on tefillin. She responded “yes” to the first question and “no” to the second. Then he politely asked if she wouldn’t mind if he helped her son don tefillin. This was rather surprising for her to see this young man at this particular shop, but she conceded. The experience went well, and she instinctively knew that there was a good reason why this happened that day. I commented that this was a blessing for her son because donning tefillin is such an important mitzvah for a Jewish male starting at the age of thirteen.

Months passed, and we often shared stories of hashgaha pratit (Divine Providence). It was quite obvious that Hashem truly takes notice when a secular person makes a decision to come closer to Him. On our way to Chabad one day, we saw 18 pennies all lined up on the sidewalk. We felt Hashem was noticing our effort. Another day, after a day of learning, my friend found a one dollar bill outside of Starbucks, where we were studying. She considered this to be a “hug” from Hashem. Yet another day she noticed, after trying to purchase a pair of earrings and, returning home with them that the clerk did not ring them up, yet they were placed in her shopping bag. She called me, and I advised she take them back to the store, show the manager the receipt, and then offer to pay for them. She took my advice, and upon returning from the store, called me again. “What happened with the earrings?” I asked. Her response was, “You won’t believe this. The manager complimented me for my honesty and said that I need not worry about it—that it was the clerk’s error, not mine. He insisted that I not worry about it, and that he had the authority to make that decision.”  She concluded that this, too, was a gift from Hashem. No doubt it was, as Hashem has ways to reward us both materially and spiritually for our efforts.

One day approximately six months after my friend’s son donned tefillin for the first time, I noticed her husband across the street. He was never religious, nor did he profess to believe in G-d. His father was Jewish, and his grandmother had converted many years before with a Conservative rabbi. His mother, then, believed herself to be Jewish, but he had no formal Jewish education. He had a contrite, rather perplexed look on his face. My husband, who happened to be outside also at that time, walked over to him and asked if everything was okay. He pulled out his cell phone and showed us a picture of a mangled car, completely totaled and un-salvageable. It was truly scary-looking. We said that the car looked familiar. It actually belonged to his son, who was driving home very late at night several days prior. He fell asleep at the wheel and drove his car off a cliff. It rolled over several times and crashed against an embankment. This young man not only survived the obviously treacherous circumstances of the accident, but he came out without a scratch. The first thought I had was the power of the tefillin. He was saved by this one mitzvah he performed once in his life. Our response was, “It is quite evident that your son was given a huge blessing from Above.” The father shrugged his shoulders and walked into his house.

What will it take to wake people up to the truth—-to the power of a single mitzvah? They say that there are no atheists in a foxhole. Shortly thereafter, the family moved away from the neighborhood, so I cannot comment on their journey. I just know that what I have experienced along my journey of return has forever changed me. Whenever we see G-d’s hand reach down to us, it is fitting and proper for us to reach up and grab it. Then it makes perfect sense to  never stop saying thank you as an expression of gratitude for all that Hashem gives us—both for the good and the seemingly not-so-good, which emuna teaches us is also for the good.