He Just Wanted to Learn Torah and It Saved His Life

At the tender age of twelve, Rabbi Abraham Patal lost his mother. Orphaned, he remained with his two younger sisters and their father who was left alone, heartbroken, and carrying the heavy burden of debts from his wife's long illness.

With pain in his heart, the father spoke gently to his eldest son. “I know that Torah learning brings you joy and that it’s your greatest wish,” he told him. “But our situation is so difficult... I can no longer pay your yeshiva tuition. Worse still, I need to ask you to help support the family and assist me in paying off our overwhelming debts.”

Before the boy even had a chance to begin working, he fell gravely ill. His condition worsened quickly, and it seemed as though he was slipping away. Prominent European doctors had been brought in to treat the sick son of a wealthy community member, and they were asked to examine young Abraham as well. But after only a short check, they too sadly concluded that there was no cure for his illness and they could not save him.

In deep despair, the grieving father turned to the city’s rabbis, begging them to pray for his son. He approached one of the doctors again and pleaded: “Is there truly no hope?”

The doctor replied, “There’s no medicine I can offer. Sometimes a person recovers on their own... but I must be honest with you: your son’s situation looks hopeless. He’s not likely to recover.”

“But how can you be so sure?” asked the father.

“I saw it in his eyes,” the doctor said. “They look dull. He has no will to live. And when a person gives up like that, recovery is almost impossible.”

In that moment, the father understood. His beloved son had given up hope because he had been pulled away from the Torah he so deeply loved.

Rushing home, he hurried to his son’s bedside. With tears streaming down his face, he cried out, “I made a vow, my son. If you recover, if you regain your strength I promise you will be able to study Torah as much as your heart desires. I will never stop you from learning again.”

A few days later, the community walked behind the coffin of the wealthy man’s son who had passed away, while Abraham Patal, in contrast, was already healing and quickly regaining his strength. Before long, he was back to immersing himself in his beloved Torah learning.

A boy who learns Torah with such passion is destined for greatness. And indeed, Abraham rose higher and higher, becoming an exceptional Torah scholar, known throughout his city not only for his knowledge, but for his deep respect for Hashem.

"May Hashem Bring Us Both to Complete Teshuvah"
In 1936, Rabbi Abraham Patal made aliyah to the Land of Israel, settling in the Nachlaot neighborhood of Jerusalem. There, he poured his heart into the youth. He would gather neighborhood children into the Talmud Torah (Jewish elementary school) he ran, and he held Torah classes every Shabbat. His teachings attracted Jews from across the area. Day after day, he was busy helping others grow in Torah and in yiras Shamayim (awe of Heaven).

One story from that time paints a beautiful picture of who Rabbi Patal truly was.

In his neighborhood lived a Jewish man who was very distant from Torah and mitzvot (commandments). Every Shabbat, as Rabbi Patal walked to synagogue to give his sermon, this man would deliberately approach him with a lit cigarette. Just as the Rabbi passed, the man would take a deep drag and blow smoke straight into his face clearly trying to provoke him.

Those accompanying Rabbi Patal often wanted to confront or even physically remove the man. But every time, the Rabbi stopped them. Each week, without fail, he would respond in the same calm, kind voice: “May Hashem bring both me and you to complete teshuvah (repentance).”

Time and again, this happened. And time and again, the Rabbi’s gentle words remained the same.

One Shabbat, after walking home behind the Rabbi as usual, the man suddenly asked to come inside. The Rabbi welcomed him warmly. With a trembling voice, the man apologized deeply for his behavior and asked the Rabbi to help him do teshuvah.

“It was the way you treated me,” the man admitted. “Each time, you didn’t just pray for me to return to Hashem, you included yourself. You, a righteous Rabbi, grouped yourself with me, a Jew breaking Shabbat just to upset others. That humility and kindness touched me. It made me stop and really think. I began to see how far I had fallen. And now, I’ve come to you, honored Rabbi, to ask: please guide me. Teach me how I can return and make things right.”

From ‘Peniney Ein Chemed,’ courtesy of the Dirshu website.