Hashem Loves Me ... Even More

I've been telling over the mashal (parable) that I wrote about in my last post. It's interesting how every time I tell it over, the person I'm telling it to follows that train of thought and adds a new perspective to it. (Thanks Esther and Nechama). Imagine that this post flows straight from the last one

Also, we had gotten off the highway at the wrong exit. My friend pointed out that the wrong exit could be seen as making a bad decision or doing a chait (sin). Hashem doesn't leave us; rather, he follows us, hoping to be able to guide us back onto the correct path. Just like Otto did.

When we're going the wrong way in life, Hashem tries to send us messages to push us back onto the right path. He comes up to our window and asks if we need help. When we refuse to let Him in, He'll come around a different way and try to open the door and force His way into our lives. He'll hurt us (or so we think) if necessary, but the ultimate goal is to save our spiritual lives.

But often, we think we're OK, that someone is going to come and save us (like my father, in this situation), so we don't need Hakadosh Baruch Hu (G-d)'s help. But we do. My father alone could not have done anything for us. He couldn't push us up the hill or get the car into a semi-legal spot. Only Hashem (with Otto as His shaliach [messenger]) was able to save us.

As the pasuk (verse) from Tehillim (Psalms) says - טוב לחסות בה מבטוח בנדיבים - better to trust in Hashem than in people, or even noblemen. Hashem can and will take care of us. We just have to place our trust in Him.

Hashem Loves Me ... Cont.

There was another point that I wanted to make about my experience on Thursday.

Last time I wrote, I said that Otto pulled up next to us and waited a few minutes before coming to help.

I was wrong.

He told my father that he had been behind us on the highway. He saw us break down, so
he followed us off. He and his friend, Russ, stayed behind us on the service road for a while, protecting us from oncoming cars, putting their own car and lives at risk.

He was with us the entire time, but we didn't know it.

Hashem (G-d) is always with us. Even when we feel alone, He is always watching us, taking care of us. We just have to look in our rear-view mirrors - at past miracles and instances of Hashgacha (divine providence) - to see that He has been with us all our lives and will not desert us now.

♪♫ Hashem Loves Me ♫♪

Everyone knows at least one story of Hashgacha Pratis (Divine Providence). I've written about it more than once (here, here, here, and here). Some stories are small ones, like finding a parking spot when you need one, or a day off when you thought you were supposed to be working. Some stories are bigger – of men saved from 9/11 because of slichos (penitential prayers said before Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur), of families saved from certain death by a missed bus, and the like. My story is not quite as drastic, but it will stay in the annals of my greatest personal Hashgacha stories.

Tonight, I was on my way home from Touro. As I do every Thursday, I was driving my friend's family car (she doesn't drive yet but wants to be part of my carpool). As we were walking out of the building, a girl from one of my classes asked us if we were passing near her house, and if so, could we give her a lift. Now, you have to understand – I live in Queens. I can either take the Jackie Robinson Parkway (which goes through a very bad neighborhood) or the Belt Parkway, which is longer, but runs through a better place. I usually take the Jackie. If I would take the Belt, I would pass right by this girl's house, so I elected to drop her off and take that route.

We dropped her off, going much further out of the way than I had expected. On our way to the highway, we were saying how it's OK if we get a bit lost because we are Shiluchei Mitzvah (those sent to do a Mitzvah), and they are not harmed. Prophetic words, but we didn't know that then.

The car I was driving is a very old car, and it's not in the greatest condition. Every so often it makes strange noises, but I've been driving it all semester, so the regular noises don't bother me anymore. We were about halfway home (a little before 11), and I was in the left lane going a scant ten miles above the speed limit but somehow managing to be one of the slowest cars on the road. I heard a strange noise that was not among the repertoire of noises that I was used to hearing from the car. I noticed that I was losing speed, but the car did not respond to the gas pedal. I started inching over to the middle lane, and then to the right-most one.

The car was going slower and slower. I needed to get off the highway, and I needed to do it right then.

Baruch Hashem (thank G-d) there was an exit coming up, so I quickly got off. As I got onto the ramp, I realized that I had lost all power steering and power brakes. I literally had to wrench the wheel to get the car to go on the service road. As I was driving, I put the car in neutral and attempted to restart the engine, but it was a no go.

The car stopped of its own volition at the first red light we came to. We were stuck on the service road, with nowhere to go. I turned on the hazard lights, and we called our respective parents. My father said he would come get us as soon as he could, and then we'd figure out how to deal with the car.

We sat there waiting for him to come, calling our friends (what else is there to do at such a time?) and watching the clock tick. My father was nearly there when a car pulled up next to us. A man got out of the car and started asking me if we needed help. I told him that we were fine because my father was coming. I thought he'd left, but he just went around the car to the passenger side. He started to open the door, telling us that we had better get out of the car for safety reasons. We started to freak out. My friend in the passenger seat was nearly hysterical. He told us that he was from the City Marshals, and he was going to help us, but we were too scared to listen.

My father came right then, so he took over. Turns out he actually was who he said he was; he was even a mechanic. My friends went to sit in my family's car while the men pushed the car and I steered. With Chasdei Hashem (Hashem's kindness) we made it to the side of the road. To make a long story short, we parked the car and left it overnight to deal with in the morning and went home in my family's car. We had left Touro a little before 10:30; I walked into my house at 12:30 and considered myself lucky that it wasn't later.

When I think back now to what happened, all I can do is thank Hashem. So many things could have gone wrong or been worse, but weren't:

• Otto (the guy who stopped) could have been a murderer or a rapist out to get easy prey.
  
• The fact that such a guy – one who actually had the knowledge and ability to help us – was passing through the neighborhood at a ridiculous hour.
  
• He told us that while he was watching (and he was only there for a few minutes before he got out to help us), we were nearly rear ended twice. Twice! And both of those cars stopped before they hit us.
  
• My father was able to come and help, even though it was really late.
  
• We didn't take the Jackie Robinson. It would have been much, much worse had we been in East New York when it happened.
  
• We were very close to an exit leading to a decent exit. The exit before we got off was not a good neighborhood.
  
• I was able to keep my cool – this is the first time such a thing has happened to me, and I always wondered how I'd react. Now I know. It didn't even occur to me to freak out – even when Otto came to my window
  

I'm sure there was a lot more Hashgacha involved, but it's too late (and this post is too long) for me to detail it.

Have a great Shabbos filled with obvious Hashgacha. Feel Hashem's love for you every second!

An Addendum

I was speaking to my father last night, and he pointed out another strong instance of Hashgacha in my day on Monday.

We had a sewer blockage. We wouldn't have known about it had we not had the whole business on Monday that was triggered by my neighbor's washing machine. If not for that, which really seemed quite tragic, it would have been even worse come Tuesday. Tuesday night was a huge thunder storm. The rain was so heavy that someone offered my father a ride home from shul (less than two blocks)! Had we not had the sewer cleared the day before, our flood would have been a whole lot worse.

Talk about Hashgacha Pratis!

A Series of (Un)Fortunate Events Part 2

When I went on my vacation, I left my pocketbook at home. I brought my wristlet, but left my keys and assorted paraphernalia at home. When I got home Sunday night, it was nowhere to be seen. We looked all over and couldn't find it.

The problem is that I needed my keys because I was the only one home on Monday, and I was planning on going out a little. Hashgachically (Providentially), we had just had a new set of Shabbos keys made up for me, so I had house keys. No car keys. That proved to be a problem because I was planning on driving to the wedding. No keys, no car, no wedding.

The good thing was that my father came home early because of the flood (and because my sister was coming home). HE has two sets of keys, one even has the remote control that locks and unlocks the car (very important because I tend to lose the car). He put his set of keys near my driving sunglasses on the table for me to take, but I didn't take them.

My sister came home from camp, and the whole house was aflutter with helping her settle back in and getting ready for a wedding. Unbeknownst to me, the keys and sunglasses got moved in the process of serving her supper.

My friend and I were downstairs in my room getting ready for the wedding while all this was happening. For this part you have to know all about my grand total of two wedding outfits. Both are, of course, gorgeous (if I do say so myself) and NOT black (well, not totally black). My pink jacket is my favorite because it's pink, but has the drawback of pulling. It is made up of pink material with silver threaded through it, and at the end of a wedding, the sleeves have bunches of pink and silver threads hanging down. Because of this, I can really only wear this once before sending it back to the cleaners. I wore it two weeks ago and hadn't sent it, so my pink jacket was out. My other jacket has black and white flowers on it, and that's what I was planning on wearing. Unlike the pink jacket, it had just come back from the cleaners, so I made the reasonable assumption that it was clean. Big mistake. I took it out of the wrapping, and lo and behold, some of the black from the flowers managed to run onto the white part of the jacket. Wonderful. Having no other choice, I wore my pink jacket.

Finally we were ready to go. We went upstairs. I found my sunglasses that I had left on the table in a different spot on the table but clearly visible. The car keys, however, eluded me. My parents and I looked for the keys for about ten minutes while my friend stood on the side and watched. Finally I said that I needed to go and would take my mother's keys. We found my mother's pocketbook where she keeps her keys, opened it up, and there were my father's keys. We still have no idea how they got there.

But it didn't matter. I had keys, a car, but no Bluetooth. That was fine; I could manage one trip into Brooklyn without talking on the phone (ha!). We were running about twenty minutes late, but still had to pick up one more girl in Brooklyn. We didn't have much traffic (which was surprising because of the time), but the girl we were picking up had time to daven because of our lateness. I had been scared to call her to tell her how late we were going to be because I thought she would never speak to me again. She is very close to the Kallah, even more than I am, and would have been very upset to miss the reception. When she got in the car, she told us that the Kallah hadn't even come out yet – so much for being late!

We got to the hall in record time, only getting lost once. Because we got there right before seven when the meters expire, we were able to get the perfect spot without even paying for it (Hashem mamish works out the timing of everything!). We ran into the hall and got there with a few minutes to spare before the badeken.

What followed was an amazing wedding. It was so much fun, but you heard about that already.

There's more.

My parents called while I was on my way to the wedding to tell me they had found my pocketbook. Where was it, you may ask? In my parents' bedroom where they had put it to save it from the cleaning lady (and then promptly forgot about it).

During the meal, I noticed that there was an older lady there who was wearing a very familiar black and white flowered jacket. It's one thing to wear the same clothes as a friend, and a totally different thing to match a lady twice your age (and weight)

Right before we left the wedding, my father called to tell me that an older friend of mine was engaged.

My feet were aching like crazy because we were dancing so much, but the car was right there.

I almost got into a serious accident on the way home, but Hashem saved me at the last second.

We made really good time home.

I even got a good spot on my block (which is nearly impossible at night).

So, did I have a good day? Some parts were great, others, not so much. Did I have a Divinely directed and inspired day? You bet!

A Series of (Un)Fortunate Events Part 1

Disclaimer: This may sound like a massive kvetch, but it is not mean to be. I just have to give the unfortunate and trying background so the fortunate parts can be seen in contrast.

Monday was a day to remember. It was one of those days that is stressful but ends with the satisfaction of a day well done. It was the day of my friend's wedding.

It started off (as all days do) innocently enough at about 12 am. I was on my home from my friend's house in Brooklyn where I had been dropped off after my vacation, when a friend from Baltimore called me. She was the Kallah's roommate and was trying to figure out how she was going to be getting from Baltimore to a wedding hall in Brooklyn. Somehow we worked it out that I would come to Manhattan to get her from the bus stop, we'd get ready for the wedding at my house, she'd stay over by my house Monday night, and I'd give her explicit directions on how to get back to Penn Station to pick up her bus back to Baltimore the next day.

When I woke up Monday morning, all was fine. My plans for the day were set; I knew what I was going to be doing that day, and it all centered on this wedding.

And then my plans fell apart.

I had been planning to leave for Manhattan at around 11:45 to get there in time to pick up my friend at 1:00. At 9:30, before I had davened, a leak started in our downstairs bathroom. It quickly became a big leak, and then proceeded to give a good imitation of Niagara Falls sans rocks. I was the only one home because my sister was coming home from camp that day. I frantically called my father, spoke to our upstairs neighbor, and then the leak stopped. For a few minutes. Because Zman T'fila was swiftly approaching, I opted to daven before the shower I was planning on taking that morning. I got dressed, took one last look at the area of the leak, and discovered that it had restarted with a vengeance. There was half an inch of water on the floor there, and it was spreading into our laundry room. I called my neighbor again and asked them to turn off their washing machine and to speak to my father because I had to daven.

I davened, and since Niagara had stopped leaking, I decided to take my long awaited shower. While I was waiting for the water to hit the right temperature, I noticed a small leak from the shower ceiling. Sometime in the middle of my shower, I happened to look out and notice that now it was raining from three parts of the bathroom. I quickly finished up, called my father yet again (at which point he decided to come home from work). I went into my room, got dressed, and then noticed that there was water on the floor of my closet (which is on the same floor as this bathroom). I had to leave to get my friend and water was filling up my house. It was an auspicious start to the day.

I got to Manhattan in record time (the train came right away, and I even had a seat), but my friend's bus had gotten delayed. I decided that since I was on 34^th St, I may as well go shopping. I got lost in Macy's for a while, and then found three sweaters for $9.50 each (a mitziah [find] to top all mitziahs). I found my friend, and we took the train back to my house.

By the time we got back, our water problem was diagnosed to be a backed up sewer and the water main was turned off. No water for anything, a messy, watery house, and a friend's first visit. The perfect combination.

The sewer guy was B"H able to come right away, and the problem was summarily dealt with. Although the floors were still wet, there was no ill effect on our ability to get ready to leave. We somehow managed it only a few minutes after we had originally planned. Then another set of problems cropped up.

To be continued ...

HP Daily

I'm learning the book Praying with Fire by Rabbi Heshy Kleinman with a friend. Last night, we read a section that talked about how if we see Hashem in our daily lives, in the minutiae that are always with us, we'll have a much easier time knowing to Whom we daven. We decided then and there to start a new nightly ritual. Right after we learn, we are each going to share one story of Hashgacha Pratis - it doesn't matter if it's a big one or a small one, as long as we saw Hashem's Hand in it.

Tuesday: I did not get a single red light when I went to pick my father up from Yeshiva.
Wednesday: (This actually happened yesterday also) I got to school a drop before 11 (when alternate side for the streets around Touro is over), so I basically got the best spot available.

You make think these HP stories are a little petty. They're nothing earth-shattering. But everyone, I'm sure, has heard the story of the woman looking for a parking spot in downtown Manhattan. She bargains with Hashem, offering the world if He would only find her a parking spot. While she still has her prayer on her lips, a miracle occurs - a perfectly legal spot (without a meter) opens up right in front of her. Mid-sentence, she tells Hashem "Oh, forget it. I already found one."

I don't want to be like that. Every little thing that happens is the Hand of Hashem showing us His love. It's there; we just have to open our eyes to see it.