How Can You Say No? - Monthly Gedolim Story

 The following story, which first appeared in Rabbi Yechiel Spero's book "One for the Books," was shared by Rav Eliyahu Mann. It is a beautiful, heartwarming story about a holy Yid from Tel Aviv named Reb Avraham Weiss.

I am sharing this story as part of my "Monthly Gedolim Stories" segment for the month of Kislev. While looking through my books to find the perfect tale to share with you, I chose - with Hashem's kindness and assistance - to check the aforementioned book out and was deeply touched when re-reading this story.

I knew this one would be perfect to share.

I hope you enjoy it.

All the best,

Yitzy Schweitzer

How Can You Say No? - Monthly Gedolim Story

Reb Avraham Weiss was a special, righteous man whose life was marked with incredible Siyata Dishmaya. Reb Avraham lived a long, incredible life reaching the ripe old age of ninety-eight, full of vibrancy and with his mind sharp until his final day. The people couldn't help but wonder... what was his secret? How did he merit such a long, blessed life?  How?

Whenever he was asked about it, Reb Avraham would just smile. Eventually, however, he shared the story that lay behind his longevity.

What a story it was!

Shortly after he married, in the late 1940s, during the Israeli War of Independence, Tel Aviv was a dangerous, very dangerous place with mortarbshells raining down and fierce battles taking place just beyond the borders of the city. Leaving home meant one was exposed to the danger and everyone lived in constant fear of the next raid. Still, despite it all, life had to continue.

Reb Avraham and his wife had recently settled into their apartment, while at the same time his next-door neighbour, a young couple, welcomed their first child: a little boy. In the midst of the upheaval of the times, the simchah of a new life offered a burst and flicker of hope for better days to come.

Eager to show kindness and concern, Reb Avraham knocked on the door of the neighbours home and inquired about their well-being. The young father, clearly overwhelmed by the difficulties of the war and the fragile state of his wife, explained that although they had every intention to give their son a Bris Milah, they had decided to wait until life calmed down a little before proceeding with it, as his wife was weak and organising a Bristol with all the chaos going on outside seemed impossible. So the Bristol would have to wait.

Well, Reb Avraham couldn't believe it. He could not believe his ears. Delay a Bris Milah? For him, the very notion was just simply unthinkable! A Bris Milah, the entry of a Jewish child into the covenant of Avraham Avinu, is but one of the most sacred and special mitzvos, and it must be performed on the eighth day, without fail - barring circumstances out of one's control.

With a fire in his heart, Reb Avraham immediately offered to take on the burden himself. "Don't delay the Bris" he implored. "I will arrange everything. You won't have to lift a finger." He even promised to arrange for none other than the Gadol Hador of the time, the Chazon Ish himself, to be the sandek! What a tremendous zechus that would be. Who could refuse such an amazing offer?

The neighbour at first was unsure of what to do, but seeing the determination in Reb Avrahams eyes, he reluctantly agreed. So, the bris was scheduled for the eighth day. The entire event would take place I'm Reb Avrahams apartment, saving the new parents any additional stress or worry.

As he promised, Reb Avraham made all the necessary arrangements. Despite the dangers swirling outside, he felt confident that the mitzvah of the bris would protect and shield them from all harm. The Chazon Ish graciously agreed to serve as sandek, and everything was set up and prepared for a beautiful, heartwarming simcha.

The day of the bris arrived. Despite the ongoing conflict outside, the apartment was filled with warmth and joy as friends and family gathered for the special occasion. As planned, the Chazon Ish was present, ready to hold the baby during this sacred moment. Reb Avrahams heart swelled with happiness and pride. What an honour to host such an event in his home and all the more so to host such an event with the Gadol Hador present!

But just as the model prepared to perform the bris, pandemonium broke out as sirens sounded with great anger and force warning of an impending bombardment. Shells began falling and panic spread like wildfire. Everyone rushed to the underground bomb shelters, and the bris was abandoned in an instant as people sought safety.

Everyone, that is except for Reb Avraham Weiss.

As the neighbours ran to the shelter, Reb Avraham assured them that he had their baby. But the newborn could not be moved in such a panic and in such a haste. So Reb Avraham stayed behind to protect him.

As the Chazon Ish hurried towards the shelter, he turned back and saw Reb Avraham standing by the bassinet in a calm and peaceful state. The Chazon Ish called out, "What are you doing? You're not the ba'al bris! You don't have the special protection given to the father of the baby. You need to take cover!"

Reb Avraham remained unfazed. With a serene confidence, he responded, "Rebbi, I may not be the father of this child, but I am the one who endured that this bris would take place today, on the eighth day as it should. I arranged everything - so I consider myself the ba'al bris. I have the protection of this mitzvah."

The Chazon Ish stood still for a moment as he absorbed Reb Avrahams words. There was an unmistakable truth in them, an emunah so pure it defied logic. The Chazon Ish tried to persuade Reb Avraham to allow him to be the one to stay with the bab, but Reb Avraham insisted that he had the better protection. He was the ba'al bris. The Chazon ish did not argue further. He nodded and left for the shelter.

Minutes passed, though indeed they felt like hours, as the shells continued to fall. Reb Avraham, with emunah flowing through his soul, remained in place, standing guard over the newborn baby, his eyes lifted to Shamayim.

Than, almost as suddenly as it had all began, the bombardment came to a haltand the eeriequiet of post attack Tel Aviv settled over the city. Slowly, people returned from the shelters, including the Chazon Ish. Reb Avraham and the baby were completely unharmed. Not one single had hit the building, nor had there been any that landed nearby. The preparations for the simchah of the bris milah resumed, and the Chazon Ish, moved by the events that had just transpired, took the baby in his arms as the sandek.

After the bris concluded, the Chazon Ish approached Reb Avraham, his eyes shining with admiration. "Such mesiras nefesh," he said, "such dedication for the mitzvah of bris milah will not go unrewarded. I give you a brachah for long life and a mind that is sharp until your final day."

Indeed, those words were fulfilled.

Reb Avraham would often look back to that fateful day, the day when he risked his life for the mitzvah of bris milah trusting that Hashem would watch over him.