The Power of a Prayer: How Gratitude Changed Everything

The 'Shtilei Zeitim' synagogue in Bnei Brak is one of the oldest and best-known in the city. Many people come through its doors every day, especially early risers who join the sunrise 'Vatikin' minyan. For them, this story isn’t new—it spread quickly when it happened. They witnessed it themselves. But for the rest of us, this story can be a guiding light.

At the 'Vatikin' minyan, the prayers are led by Rabbi Ezra Mizrachi. He is at the heart of this story, and we heard every detail directly from him. For over twenty years, he's been the regular cantor—rain or shine. He shows up at the same time every morning, stands in his usual spot, and lifts his voice to lead the prayers. Everything is always the same—the timing, the way the prayers are said, even the familiar sound of his voice—so when something changes, everyone notices.

So, when about four years ago Rabbi Ezra decided to start singing “Mizmor L’Todah”—Psalm 100, the Song of Giving Thanks—with a melody during the morning prayers, he first spoke with the congregation. They were more than happy to join in:

“I discovered a halachah (Jewish law) that’s not well known, but it’s clearly stated in the Shulchan Aruch (Code of Jewish Law) by the Beit Yosef. In Section 51, Paragraph 9, it says: ‘Mizmor L’Todah—it is a mitzvah (commandment) to extend it with melody and to sing it.’ That means we’re supposed to sing this psalm with joy, expressing deep gratitude to Hashem. So what do you say—should we start singing it? It's short, we’ll sing it with a happy tune that won’t hold up the prayers, and it’s a special mitzvah that adds joy to our connection with Hashem.

The congregants were touched. They were excited to learn about this halachah—and even more excited to practice it. What better way to thank Hashem than with a song of joy? Even though it became a daily habit, the singing never felt routine. Every morning, the heartfelt “Mizmor L’Todah” brought renewed inspiration to the prayers.

“Something’s not right…”
Weeks passed. Months passed. A year went by. Then one day, Rabbi Ezra started feeling unexplained pain. He tried pain relievers. He saw doctors. But nothing helped. Eventually, his family doctor referred him to a specialist who ordered a series of tests.

Still, Rabbi Ezra didn’t suspect anything serious. So when he sat in front of the specialist and heard the cautious words, he wasn’t prepared: “I don’t want to alarm you,” the doctor said, carefully choosing his words. “But something here isn’t right. I want you to redo the tests in three weeks, and we’ll see then whether this concern is serious or not.”

The words were gentle, but the message was clear. The doctor was worried. He tried to reassure Rabbi Ezra: “We have excellent treatments today, and with Hashem’s help, people get through this… I don’t want to say the exact word, but you probably understand—it might be that illness…”

Rabbi Ezra’s heart beat faster. The doctor didn’t have to say the word. Still, he didn’t panic. “Until now, life has been sweet,” he thought. “Thank You, Hashem, for all the good years I’ve had. Surely, just as You’ve blessed me until now, You can bless me with more.”

He left the clinic calm and collected. And as he walked, he softly sang his usual tune of “Mizmor L’Todah”…

Preparation—with a Song
Two weeks passed. Then a few more days. Rabbi Ezra prepared for the next round of tests in his own special way. Every morning, he sang “Mizmor L’Todah” with deeper emotion. Throughout the day, he filled his heart with thoughts of gratitude—for all the kindness Hashem had shown him until now, and with hope for the kindness still to come.

The day before the exam, as he sang “Mizmor L’Todah” during prayer, a sudden inspiration struck him. “Even now,” he thought, “even in this moment of uncertainty, I will thank You, Hashem. There’s so much to be grateful for.”

Without delay, he changed his schedule. He left for Tzfat and traveled to the resting place of the Beit Yosef, the great Torah sage who authored the halachah about singing “Mizmor L’Todah.” There, in the serene Galilee mountains, Rabbi Ezra poured out his heart.

He thanked Hashem for his life. For his family. For every breath. For all the blessings that most people take for granted. And then, with tears, he shared his fears and his hopes.

And then he cried out: “Beit Yosef! You ruled that ‘Mizmor L’Todah’ should be sung, and I’ve done it! With all my heart! I didn’t care what others thought—I just wanted to fulfill Hashem’s will. I brought others to sing too. Please, in the merit of this halachah, let me continue to sing to Hashem. Let there be no illness, no tumor—only health, joy, and the ability to continue thanking Hashem!”

Even though it wasn’t a set time for prayer, Rabbi Ezra sang “Mizmor L’Todah” again. Then, filled with emotion, he danced around the grave. Only when he felt peaceful and confident in Hashem’s kindness did he return to Bnei Brak.

Dancing in the Doctor’s Office
The next day, he went for the examination. The waiting was long and tense, but his heart was full of thanks. And then he was called in to hear the results.

The doctor looked at the new scans, then back at the old ones, in disbelief.

“In all my years of medicine, I’ve never seen anything like this,” he said slowly. “This scan here—from three weeks ago—shows a tumor. You can see it clearly. And these… these are metastases. The disease was spreading.”

The doctor took a breath.

“And now, look at yesterday’s scan. There’s nothing. No tumor. No trace. The metastases are gone. Even your blood tests are normal. I can’t explain this at all! How can you be the same person?”

He was stunned. “Even with treatment, we don’t expect results like this. And you didn’t have any treatment. The tumor looked like it was spreading fast… and now it’s completely gone…”

As the doctor continued speaking, Rabbi Ezra was no longer listening. His heart was already singing “Mizmor L’Todah”—full of emotion, bursting with joy. He nearly broke into dance right there in the doctor’s office.

The Power of Gratitude
“Mizmor L’Todah” isn’t a request. It isn’t a plea. It’s a short psalm that simply says: Thank You. It’s about recognizing the good in our lives and expressing our thanks to Hashem with joy.

Of course we thank Hashem when things go well—but Rabbi Ezra’s story teaches us that giving thanks can actually change what’s happening. Gratitude can turn darkness into light. It can open up the gates of Heaven and bring miracles.

So let’s sing “Mizmor L’Todah” with heart, with melody, and with meaning. That’s the halachah—and it’s also the key to opening our hearts to Hashem.

And let’s not wait for a crisis to happen to say thank you. We have so many chances each day—during prayers like “Modim” in Shemoneh Esreh, in the Psalms, in Pesukei D’Zimrah, and in every brachah (blessing). All we have to do is take a moment, reflect, and say from the heart:

“Thank You, Father in Heaven, for letting me be Your child. Thank You for life, for waking up today, for the air I breathe. Thank You for my family, for my children, for my health and my livelihood. Thank You for the good that I see—and even for the good I don’t always recognize.”

It’s okay to ask Hashem for what we need. But how important it is to thank Him for what we already have. That’s the heart of Chanukah too—a time to say: “Thank You, Hashem.”