When We Had Nothing, Hashem Sent Everything

It was Thursday night, just before Shabbat, and Rabbi Yaakov Sh. was out doing his usual errands. He stopped at an ATM to take out some cash. But instead of handing him the money, the machine swallowed his card.

“I stood there, staring at the screen,” Rabbi Yaakov recalls. “No money. No card. And no backup plan.”

There was no credit in his bank account, so even walking into the bank wouldn’t help. His fridge was nearly empty. With Shabbat just around the corner, he began to worry.

He thought about who he could call for help. His mother-in-law was out of the country. His own mother, a widow, didn’t have extra money to give. They were new to Bnei Brak and didn’t really know anyone well enough to ask for a loan.

“I was anxious, but deep down, I believed it would be okay,” he said. “I remembered what I’d been taught since childhood: Shabbat brings blessings.”

Growing up in a house full of 13 kids, things were tight during the week. But Shabbat? It was like royalty came to visit.

“We didn’t have much, but on Shabbat the table was full. Food, drinks, treats. The whole house had a joyful, special feel. Even the neighborhood kids used to come over—it was that good.”

The next morning, Friday, Rabbi Yaakov decided to pray at a nearby synagogue in the Nachalat Siroka neighborhood—somewhere he had never prayed before.

After the prayers, a man approached him. “Are you Rabbi Yaakov…?” he asked.

Rabbi Yaakov nodded, surprised.

“I just got back from the U.S. Someone there asked me to bring you an envelope. I left it for you at the car rental office on Elisha Street.”

Curious and slightly confused, Rabbi Yaakov made his way to the rental office.

Inside the envelope? Exactly $200.

And a letter.

The name on the envelope sparked an old memory. “Ten years earlier,” he said, “I had lent $200 to a young man I knew. Life hadn’t gone well for him. He ended up fleeing to America and couldn’t return for many years.”

In the letter, the man explained that he was about to get married and had been doing some soul-searching. “I want to make things right,” he wrote. “I’m returning what I owe you.”

“I was stunned,” Rabbi Yaakov said. “Ten years had gone by. And now, of all times, the money showed up—right before Shabbat.”

He exchanged the money and hurried to the grocery store. He filled his cart with everything they needed—and more. His heart was light. “The bags were heavy,” he said, “but I didn’t feel it. I was floating. Like angels were helping me carry them.”

Back home, he unpacked the groceries and started cooking. When his wife came home and saw the kitchen full of food, she stood there in shock. “Where did all this come from?” she asked, tears in her eyes. “I thought we’d be eating dairy this Shabbat.”

That Shabbat was unforgettable.

“There was something holy in the air,” Rabbi Yaakov said. “I felt so close to Hashem. It was like He moved heaven and earth just so that envelope would reach us in time.”

During the Shabbat meal, he sang with joy for hours, filled with gratitude and wonder.

Sometimes, the smallest kindnesses echo back to us when we need them most—and Hashem makes sure they arrive right on time.