Even in Siberia, Hashem Runs the World

R’ Shalom Kaspi, a Torah-observant Jew, was exiled to ten long, bitter years in the icy prisons of Siberia. The harsh conditions were difficult enough—but what made them worse was the cruelty of one fellow prisoner. This man, a criminal serving 25 years, had been in the prison camp so long that others called him “the Brigadier.” He held authority among the inmates, and he used it to mock and torment R’ Shalom whenever he could.

One of the Brigadier’s jobs was to distribute lunch each day. The prisoners, weak and hungry, would line up with metal containers in hand, each hoping to receive soup from the bottom of the pot—where it was thick and filling. The top was just watery broth, barely enough to survive.

When R’ Shalom approached, the Brigadier looked at him with a smirk. “Tell me, Jew,” he sneered, holding the large soup ladle, “do you believe in G-d?”
“Yes,” R’ Shalom answered quietly.

The Brigadier shouted so all could hear, waving the ladle dramatically: “Here in Siberia, I am god. Life and death are in my hands. Look—if I give you this,” he said, scooping from the thin top layer, “you’ll die fast. But if I give you the thick soup from the bottom, you’ll live longer. So tell me, who’s really god here?”

R’ Shalom didn’t respond. He lowered his eyes and cried out in his heart: “Ribbono Shel Olam—Master of the World! You see my pain. Please, repay this man for his cruelty and arrogance.”

After lunch, the prisoners went back to work in the dangerous mines. They used old mining trolleys that moved by a system of counterweights—one cart going up as the other came down. The Brigadier, in a hurry to get somewhere, jumped onto the descending trolley. He tried to balance himself—but suddenly slipped. In an instant, the other trolley crushed his arm, the same arm he had used to mock Hashem. Right in front of the prisoners who had heard his mocking words, his arm was cut off up to the shoulder.

Everyone stood in shock. No one said a word. But each one knew: something had just happened. Not just a terrible accident—but something bigger. A message had been sent, and it was impossible to ignore.

Even in the frozen darkness of Siberia, Hashem sees. Hashem remembers. And Hashem protects those who trust in Him.