Personal Stories
From Hopeless to Healed: The Power of One Selfless Prayer
Ten men prayed for forgiveness in his name—and a miracle followed.
- נעמה גרין
- פורסם י"א כסלו התשפ"ב

#VALUE!
Rabbi Menachem Stein, a well-known and beloved speaker, once shared a story that left people speechless. It wasn’t just moving—it was a moment that touched the soul.
“For years,” he said, “we were caring for a man whose health was steadily declining. He had multiple illnesses and no real explanation as to why things kept getting worse.”
One day, something unexpected happened. The man opened up to one of the young volunteers who helped him. He told him that everything seemed to spiral downhill after a tense legal dispute at the Beit Din (Jewish rabbinical court) in Petah Tikva. The head of the Beit Din at the time, Rabbi Shlomo Shimson Karelitz, ruled against him in a financial disagreement. The man didn’t take it well. In the heat of the moment, he had lashed out, speaking harshly and disrespectfully.
The young volunteer wasn’t sure what to make of it, but the story stayed with him. He decided to speak with Rabbi Menachem Stein about it.
“We talked it over,” Rabbi Stein recalled, “and decided to follow a halachic (Jewish legal) path of repair—a special prayer known as a bakashat mechilah, a request for forgiveness.”
According to Jewish tradition, when someone wrongs another person—especially a Torah scholar—and the person is no longer alive to forgive them, a group can go to the grave and humbly ask for forgiveness in their name.
So they gathered a group of ten young men, enough for a minyan, and headed to the cemetery where Rabbi Karelitz was buried, near the Ponovezh Yeshiva in Bnei Brak.
What happened next was deeply emotional.
“We stood there, together, by his grave,” Rabbi Stein said. “We poured out our hearts in prayer. We read the special text asking for forgiveness, and there were tears—not just from the man who had wronged, but from everyone. The young men with us later said it gave them more strength than any class or lecture they had ever attended.”
But the most incredible part was still to come.
From that moment on, the man’s health began to improve. Slowly at first—but undeniably. Week by week, his condition got better. Even the doctors, who had long since run out of ideas, were amazed. “This is something we just can’t explain,” they said. “It’s unlike anything we’ve ever seen.”
A few months later, the man who had been weak, sick, and bedridden was back on his feet. His healing was real, complete—and seemingly miraculous.
“I share this story,” Rabbi Stein explained, “because it holds such a powerful message: our words matter. The way we speak—especially about Torah sages—matters. There’s a holiness and a weight to Torah that doesn’t disappear, even after someone passes away.”
Judaism teaches that honoring Torah scholars is not just about respect for a person—it’s respect for the wisdom of the Torah itself. And that’s something that lasts far beyond a person’s lifetime.
The sages taught: “Jerusalem was destroyed because people didn’t show respect to Torah scholars.” It’s not just about titles—it’s about recognizing the light and responsibility that comes with Torah knowledge, and treating it with care.
This story isn’t just about a man’s healing. It’s about the incredible strength of forgiveness. About how much Hashem values our efforts to make things right. And about how, sometimes, healing comes not just from medicine—but from the heart.