The Power of Hafrashat Challah: A True Story of Prayer, Patience, and Miraculous Blessings

Four years after my wedding, I still had not been blessed with a child. I tried every possible segulah, and of course — endless prayers, pleas, and personal commitments.

One day, I went shopping outside the city. As I wandered through the aisles, I suddenly bumped into my friend Fraidy — a classmate from our seminary days. Fraidy was pushing a stroller surrounded by three lively children, while I was pushing only a grocery cart…

“You did the right thing!” she said with a warm smile. “Good that you didn’t bring your kids along! Look how impatient mine are… Where did you leave them?”

“I didn’t leave them anywhere. I don’t have children,” I answered casually, pretending to focus on arranging the ketchup bottles on the shelf next to me, avoiding her eyes.

Since I didn’t look at her, I couldn’t see how many shades her face changed before she finally replied: “We definitely didn’t meet here by accident, outside the city. Listen,” she said, taking a deep breath, “I had my first child after two years of waiting. Not a terrible amount of time, but we both know how hard even that can be. A year after my wedding, a neighbor suggested I join her for a Hafrashat Challah evening. ‘You won’t believe the miracles that come from separating challah,’ she told me. ‘You should try it.’”

“Nine months after that evening—my first-ever Hafrashat Challah—my oldest son was born,” she said, pointing to the five-year-old jumping beside her. “I call him my ‘child of prayers’…”

I asked Fraidy to tell me everything she knew about the mitzvah of Hafrashat Challah. It turned out she had done serious “field research” and knew all about its merits and spiritual power.

When I left the supermarket, among the items in my cart were:
three kilos of flour, dry yeast, oil, and eggs.

That very evening, I studied the halachot carefully. Then I prepared the dough and separated challah. I cannot remember another moment so uplifting. I cannot remember ever praying with such intensity.

Shortly afterward, I merited to conceive — with Heavenly help. But the story doesn’t end there.

A few years later, I became pregnant again. This time the doctor claimed the baby was at risk and had a medical problem. I decided I would not give in to the doctors’ predictions, and I would not despair.

Throughout the entire pregnancy, I returned to separating challah and strengthened myself with the belief that it is not doctors who decide — but the Master of the Universe alone.

Thank God, a healthy and perfect baby was born!

Do you think I stopped separating challah after the second birth?
Absolutely not. Twelve years have passed since then, and every single week I am in my little kitchen — small in size but great in merit, separating challah with heartfelt excitement.

- Simi Cohen