A Journey of Emunah and Hashgacha

A rabbi from Israel, who describes himself as someone with deep emunah, shared a powerful personal experience in which that very emunah was severely tested. Part of this rabbi's life's work involves printing rare and precious Torah manuscripts authored by great rabbis of previous generations. Years ago, he was working on a manuscript by a certain Rabbi Laniado, who had an exceptionally accurate version of Rashi's commentary. During his research, the rabbi discovered that a location in Italy claimed to possess the most accurate text of Rashi in the world—a manuscript dated just eighteen years after Rashi's passing. Determined to see it, he arranged a trip to Italy, though he didn't know anyone there and assumed access to the manuscript would be difficult. After making a few calls, he managed to get in touch with someone involved with the collection, who said he would do his best to help. He also found a local contact willing to pick him up from the central bus station and drive him to the various sites. With these arrangements in place, the rabbi booked a flight and packed his attaché case with fifteen years' worth of research, along with his laptop computer. Upon arriving, he called the man who was supposed to meet him—only to be told that the man had completely forgotten and was currently three hours away. The man gave him directions to his house and said he would meet him there later. He warned the rabbi to be extremely careful in the train station, as there were professional thieves in the area who could easily steal his belongings if he wasn't vigilant. The rabbi cautiously proceeded down the steps toward the train. But moments later, he realized his attaché case was gone. He panicked. He began running through the station, frantically searching. He had been so careful, yet his most precious items—his research, documents, and computer—had somehow been stolen. After searching in vain, he sat down and broke into tears. That case held over fifteen years of Torah work, valued at well over a quarter of a million dollars. And just like that, it was gone. Even in the pain, he accepted that this too must be from Hashem. But he turned to Hashem and pleaded, "I accept this wholeheartedly—just please, let me see the good in it." He continued on to the man's house, though he felt there wasn't much point anymore. Still, he decided to make the most of it and try to explore whatever manuscripts he could. Word quickly spread about the theft of the rabbi's manuscripts. The very next day, the man hosting him received a phone call from someone urgently requesting a meeting. They went to meet him—and to their astonishment, he was holding what appeared to be all the stolen manuscripts. The man explained that he had been browsing in a pawn shop when he saw a collection of manuscripts being sold at a suspiciously low price. He guessed that these must have been stolen and bought them all on the spot. The rabbi looked through the documents. Everything was there, completely intact—except for his laptop computer. This was an unbelievable Yeshua. Locals said that in the past thirty years, they had never heard of anyone recovering their stolen belongings after a robbery in that area. The rabbi's story quickly became well-known. Suddenly, doors began opening for him. He was granted full access to any manuscript he wished to see. Wealthy Italian philanthropists, inspired by his story, began donating generously to his work. In fact, the rabbi told me that a large portion of his support until today still comes from those very individuals in Italy. What he had originally seen as a disaster—losing his most valuable Torah manuscripts—turned out to be the greatest blessing. It connected him with the very people and resources he needed most, in a way he never could have arranged on his own. He had thought that losing those manuscripts could not possibly be good. But Hashem showed him otherwise. With a full heart, he thanked Hashem for the heavenly help and for orchestrating such a miraculous turn of events. Everything that happens is always for the best—even when we cannot begin to imagine how. We must be patient and trust in Hashem.