"I’ll Give Up My Sight—But Please Let Me See Your Torah"

It happened in Jerusalem, during a frightening time when a terrible eye disease spread like wildfire. Most who caught it lost their vision, and there was no known cure.

In one corner of the holy city lived a 10-year-old boy named Betzalel Zolty. He had already known great sorrow—his father had passed away, and his devoted mother raised him on her own with unwavering love and strength.

She prayed every day, quietly but with full faith, that her beloved son would be spared from the illness that was striking so many. But Hashem had other plans. One afternoon, Betzalel came home from the Talmud Torah (Jewish school) with a worried look on his face and pain in his eyes. “Ima,” he cried, “my eyes hurt so much…”

The next day, his condition worsened. His eyes were red and swollen. His mother rushed him to the doctor, who, with a heavy heart, confirmed the worst: Betzalel had contracted the feared disease. There was no treatment. “I’m so sorry,” the doctor said gently. “He’ll likely lose his sight in the next few days.”

And that’s exactly what happened. The boy who had once eagerly soaked up every word of Torah, suddenly found himself in darkness.

His mother was heartbroken. All her dreams for her son’s future as a talmid chacham (Torah scholar) seemed to vanish overnight. How could he study the Torah he loved so deeply, now that he could no longer see?

But instead of falling into despair, this strong Jewish mother decided to turn to the one place generations of our people have gone in times of sorrow: the resting place of Mother Rachel, Rachel Imeinu. She took her blind son, gently placed him in a carriage, and walked from their home in the Old City all the way to Kever Rachel—a journey of nearly two hours.

When they arrived, the mother stood by the tomb and poured her heart out in bitter, broken tears. “Hashem,” she cried, “please have mercy on my son. His only desire in life is to learn Your holy Torah. Please give him back his sight!”

Little Betzalel sat beside her and joined in, his own voice filled with innocent pain. “Enlighten my eyes with Your Torah,” he pleaded. Then he added something no one expected.

“Hashem, I want to ask You for something,” the young boy whispered through sobs. “And I want Rachel Imeinu to hear me too. I’m willing to give up ever seeing my dear mother’s face again. I’m willing never to see my friends, or even the food I eat. I’m ready to give up seeing the beautiful world You created… but please, Hashem, I don’t want to stop seeing the Torah. I want to keep learning. That’s all I ask.”

His tears poured down like a river, soaking the stones around the grave of Rachel Imeinu. And there, exhausted from crying, the young boy fell asleep in the carriage. His mother gently wheeled him back home while he remained in a deep sleep the entire way.

The next morning, something incredible happened. Betzalel woke up and asked his mother to take him to the Talmud Torah. She looked at him in disbelief. “But my son,” she said softly, “how can you go? You can’t see anything.”

“Ima,” he said with a smile, “thank Hashem—I can see! Baruch Hashem, my eyes are fine now, and I’m ready to go learn!”

His mother was stunned. It was clear that a miracle had taken place. Their heartfelt tefillot (prayers) had pierced the heavens and reached the Kisei HaKavod (Throne of Glory). She wanted to take him back to the doctor, just to be sure, but Betzalel gently refused.

“Hashem gave me back my eyesight,” he said with the pure sincerity only a child can have. “I don’t know how long I’ll have this gift, so I don’t want to waste a single moment. I must use every minute to learn Torah.”

And that’s exactly what he did. Day after day, Betzalel poured his heart and soul into learning. He grew up to become the great Torah sage, the Gaon Rabbi Betzalel Zolty, known for his brilliant insights, sharp reasoning, and tireless dedication to Torah.

When people would come to praise the Rav, his mother would quietly reply, “You don’t know how many tears it took for Rabbi Betzalel to reach where he is today.”

Story courtesy of the Dirshu website