How Hashem Froze My Legs and Saved My Life

The great spiritual guide, Rabbi Meir Chadash, once shared a story from his youth that stayed with him his entire life. It was a moment when he stood on the edge of death and witnessed firsthand how Hashem’s hand can be found even in the most terrifying of circumstances.

“It happened in the first days after the Russian Revolution,” Rabbi Meir recounted. “The Czar had just been overthrown, but no stable government had taken his place. Chaos ruled. With no leadership, everything was out of control. Armed gangs rose up everywhere, and all of them robbed, looted, and attacked as they pleased.”

Among the worst of these gangs was one led by a man named Petlura. His followers were called “Petlurists,” and they were especially feared by Jews. They were ruthless and violent, targeting Jews for no reason other than hatred. Being caught in the street as a Jew often meant certain death.

“One day, I had to go outside for something,” Rabbi Meir said. “I hadn’t walked far when a Petlurist appeared and grabbed me. I understood immediately what was about to happen. There was no escape. I began to recite Viduy, the confession said before death.”

The gang member dragged him into a nearby police station. As they entered, the attacker forced him to stand against a wall and then stepped back to aim his rifle at Rabbi Meir’s head.

But then, something strange happened.

“He wanted to shoot me, but something seemed off to him. He thought I wasn’t standing directly in line with his rifle. He began to shout at me to move slightly. I understood that taking one step more or less wouldn’t change anything, and I wanted to do what he said. But I couldn’t. My body simply froze. I was paralyzed with fear.”

The man shouted again, furious that Rabbi Meir hadn’t moved. But no matter how hard he tried, his legs wouldn’t respond. It wasn’t defiance, it was a fear so deep that it had shut down his body completely.

Then, unexpectedly, a small window opened in the wall. Another officer, sitting in an adjacent room, overheard the shouting and called out, “Why are you screaming like that?”

The would-be shooter answered, “I brought a Jew to shoot. I’m trying to get him to move toward the rifle, but he won’t!”

The officer snapped back, “Leave him alone. Let him go.”

Just like that, the man lowered his gun and said, “Go.”

Rabbi Meir walked out in a daze. He later said, “I walked outside and thought, ‘Master of the Universe, You gave me back my life. I was just given the gift of a second chance. It was like being brought back from the dead.’”

And what saved him? The very thing he thought might doom him, his inability to move. The fear that froze him turned out to be Hashem’s way of protecting him.

From this story, we learn how Hashem can use even our moments of fear, weakness, or helplessness to bring about salvation. Sometimes, what seems like a limitation is really a hidden miracle.