The Incredible Tale of My Father: The Living Miracle

From a young age of just fifteen, my father was already entangled with the world of crime and constantly evading the police.

Despite his wayward lifestyle, he always harbored a deep respect for religion. If he was caught smoking on Shabbat and saw a rabbi, he would extinguish his cigarette out of respect. Somewhere in his soul, he knew redemption was necessary, though he took no steps towards it, except for fulfilling one commandment.

During his childhood, his grandfather had taught him to put on tefillin, and he continued to do so every morning. He felt that there was someone watching over him. Even if he managed to escape trouble now and then, he knew his day of reckoning would come. But his pride tried to convince him otherwise, saying, "This won't happen to me; Hashem is watching over me..."

My father's younger brother, by two years, was a Breslov Hasid and a student of Rabbi Eliezer Berland, head of the Shuvu Banim yeshiva in Jerusalem's Old City. Every Tuesday, his brother organized a class in Bnei Brak with Rabbi Berland. My father happened to be staying at his brother's during one of these lessons, although he had no plans to attend.

Unexpectedly, Rabbi Berland called out:

"Young man! Come here for a moment..."

My father approached the rabbi, who took his right hand, shook it, and murmured some words that he didn't understand. Then the rabbi said to him:

"Avraham, you will witness great miracles!" My father didn't comprehend his words.

At that time, he had a conflict with a small-time, somewhat unstable criminal. My father wasn't particularly worried, but this guy planned to harm him. One evening, while leaving a friend's party heavily intoxicated and forgetting to return home, he decided to sleep over at a friend's house in Pardes Katz.

Returning to his parents' apartment, he visited with his brother and then stepped out onto the staircase, still groggy from the party.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his back.

He immediately turned to see what had happened, discovering an assailant who had been following him. This attacker frantically stabbed him multiple times in the left side of his chest. His main artery was severed. My father managed to see the perpetrator fleeing and, still on his feet, clutching his chest, feeling his heart pumping and spraying out his blood. He was breathless, running frantically for support, when finally a cry rang out from his lips:

Daaaad!

As if hit by an immense electric buzz from head to toe, he suddenly found himself floating above his own body, overshadowing his hair. My father then saw his father and brother rushing towards his body upon hearing his cry, and his friend who had waited in the car now panicked upon seeing him covered in blood.

Floating above, my father watched himself being loaded into the car, questioning what was happening. Detached from pain, he felt unaware of the reality below, gazing at his own reflection like in a mirror or movie scene. He saw the whole frantic car ride, with the driver honking continuously, half on the road, half on the curb. Below, though his body gasped and his eyes rolled, he remained stationary above, watching in calm detachment.

He then saw himself being brought to Beilinson Hospital, taken to the emergency room, and laid on a bed. As he enjoyed the float, he questioned everyone's frantic attention below since he was up above! The body care seemed irrelevant.

He witnessed his mother calling his wife:

"Don't ask... Avraham is at Beilinson Hospital... He's been terribly injured..."

"It's impossible, he called me moments ago saying he was on his way home..."

"We're not even sure if he's alive or dead..."

Some time later, he saw his wife and two daughters arrive in a panic. His mother collapsed on the floor, continuously weeping. He wanted to console her, "Mom, I'm here! Why are you crying?" But he recognized he couldn't communicate, which deeply saddened him. As he floated about a meter and a half above his body in the hospital room, he watched the doctors bent over him.

Then he heard a sophisticated sound, more intricate than those in any electronic music. The sound first resonated to his right, compelling him to peek, then a second sound to his left, and others in front and behind him. Gradually, he sensed a change—a transition to another realm.

A fierce, dreadful wind howled as he felt himself rising, preparing to leave the world. Terrifying voices echoed along with him—men crying, within women's screams, encased within children's cries. Sounds beyond worldly amplification in intensity.

Above, everything is spiritual and mighty. The opposition is also remarkably strong. Everything on earth reflects above. Earthly fire becomes all the more intense. Earthly beasts seem insignificant against the giant daunting creatures above. Separated from the physical, one experiences these horrors vividly.

He wanted help, feeling his spiritual organs shrinking against his soul. He realized he was on the brink of death. Then he saw his wife and daughters, yearning for a final farewell. He wanted to say goodbye just once.

He started screaming:

"I-I-I can'tttt!"

He couldn't stop crying. His human self couldn't comprehend it. His tears flowed like an ocean. He sobbed endlessly, until suddenly a new voice emerged:

"Avraham, Avraham"...

His hope rekindled. He felt it wasn't a frightening voice, unlike before. Feeling an intense shame overshadowed by new fear. He preferred fear over shame. Yet, the voice went on:

"Avraham, Avraham, you will repent-eh-eh-eh!"

The voice echoed world-end to end. It permeated his spiritual being, pleading:

"I can't listen... please stop..."

The great voice continued:

"Do you promise? Promise? Promise?"

While the grand voice spoke, the terrifying voices wailed in opposition:

"Noooo!"

He understood the grand voice wanted his revival, but others opposed it. "I promise!" he answered, with fear and shame. Attempting to rise toward the origin of the voice, guessing it just above, he failed. Above him shone a light a thousand times brighter than the sun—less the extent of speech—a stunning light impossible to stare into. He remained, head bowed.

As promised, a sudden beam of light descended through the middle. In that moment, an earth-shattering explosion occurred:

Boom! Boom!

He tried plugging his ears, witnessing sparks scattering around. Quietude ensued. The threatening escorts vanished. He returned to the hospital room, slowly descending toward his body. Medical staff still worked over his motionless body. He slipped through his nostrils into himself---

The fractured heart begun beating! Astonished doctors, who intended to place him in the morgue, now rushed him to surgery. The operation lasted seven hours, then placed in intensive care.

Doctors informed my father's parents and wife, surprised with his survival, though the lack of oxygen to his brain might leave him vegetative. Three days later, he opened his eyes. When identified by the startled doctor, who asked his parents:

"We already witnessed a miracle here. No doctor can explain how he's alive. Now, who'd have believed this man would speak?! Apart from healing scars, he's physically and mentally healthy!"

Two weeks later, he was released, now called "the miracle maker."

A rabbi his father brought home remarked:

"Blessed be His name forever, your story appears in the Holy Zohar. Not everyone experiences this." My father had never heard of the Holy Zohar.

His brother recounted how, at the time of his stabbing and categorization as clinically dead, Rabbi Berland arrived at "Shuvu Banim" for a weekly class. My father's brother ran to him:

"Rabbi! My brother is critically injured in the hospital! Please pray for him..."

The Rabbi canceled the class, heading with him to "Beilinson." Arriving, he exited his car, dancing joyously! Bystanders were astonished seeing the bearded, side-curled rabbi celebrating outside the emergency room, like on Simchat Torah. Shocked, his brother asked:

"What is the Rabbi doing?! I don't understand..." The Rabbi, trembling, answered:

"Today we'll see resurrection of the dead!"

After his recovery, Rabbi Berland visited with some students, lifting, hugging, and kissing him:

"I told you, you'd witness great miracles and will continue seeing them..."

(From "Or Chozer" No. 1 by Oded Mizrachi - adapted per Avraham's testimony)