The fast of the tenth of Tevet which occurs these days has been declared by the Chief Rabbinate of Israel as a day of reciting the Kaddish in memory of our six million martyrs. This brings to mind some stories about the Kaddish.
In Eliyahu’s Porush’s memories about life in Jerusalem during the last century, we read the following story:
There once lived in Pressburg a rich merchant who tithed all his income. He gave the money to the Yeshiva requesting that the Kaddish be recited for those who had no one else to say this prayer in their memory.
After his death, his widow continued his practice, even though she lived in greatly reduced circumstances.
One day as she left the building of the Yeshiva she was approached by an old man who asked her why she was so sad. She replied that she was a poor widow. Her two daughters were of marrying age and she had no money to provide them with appropriate dowries.
The man asked her how much money she needed and after she mentioned the amount, wrote out a note for 1000 florins. At that moment two students emerged from the Yeshiva. They were Rabbi Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld and the son of the rabbi of Pressburg. The old man asked them to permit him to sign his name in their notebooks so that they would be able to authenticate his signature if the woman should have difficult in cashing the note.
The next day the woman presented the note at the bank. Because a large sum was involved, the clerk submitted the note to the manager for authorization. When the manager looked at the note, he exclaimed with amazement and dismay: This is my late father’s signature: he died a few months ago! He questioned the woman how she came into the possession of the note and refused to believe her story until she brought the two students who confirmed that she had received the note from an old man. They also showed the manager the old man’s signature in their notebooks. The manager then ordered some photographs, including one of his father, to be brought from his home. He showed them, separately to the woman and to each of the students and asked them to point out the man who had spoken to them. All three pointed at the photo of the manager’s father.
When the woman told the manager what her late husband and she herself had done for the reciting of the Kaddish, the manager admitted that he had not been saying Kaddish for his father during this year of mourning. He added that he was convinced that his father appeared to the woman because of her efforts for the reciting of Kaddish for those who had no one else to say this prayer for them. He paid the woman the full amount of the note.
As a result of this experience, the manager became a Baal Teshuva.
A slightly different version of this story was published in a book by Yaakov Dviri (Holon, 1976). According to this version the two students were Rabbi Y.H. Sonnenfeld and Rabbi Yehuda Gruenwald who later became rabbi of Szatmar.
Some time ago, I published this story together with three similar ones in the daily HaTzofeh. The other stories, telling of incidents which took place in Fuerth (Bavaria) Mainz and Tunisia, respectively were published originally in Sefer HaMaasiyot of Mordecai ben Yehezkel, in the German Der Israelit (1910) and in a Hebrew collection of Tunisian-Jewish stories (edited b Dr. Dov Noy).*
Following is the Tunisian story:
A widow was supporting herself by doing housework for her neighbors. When her only son died, she gave of her small income to the Shamash of the synagogue to say Kaddish for the deceased.
Once after a generous householder had given her a handsome gift, she decided to double the pay of the Shamash and to ask him to recite in addition to the Kaddish for her son a Kaddish also for those who had no one else to say this prayer in their memory.
One day a man asked her what she had been talking about with the Shamash. At first she refused to tell him, but when the man insisted she told him about the two Kaddishim.
The man took out a check, filled it out and gave it to her.
The next day the widow went to the bank to cash the check. Since it represented a large sum, the clerks told her to submit it directly to the manager. The latter looked with amazement at the check and asked the widow who gave it to her. After she told him her story, he showed her a picture of his father. “Yes, this is the man who gave me the check,” the widow declared pointing at the picture.
“This was my father, he preceded me as manager of this bank,” the manager started crying and tearing his clothes. “I never said Kaddish for him!”
He paid the widow and thanked her for her good deeds. He also gave her a large apartment where she lived happily for the rest of her days.
* After the publication of my article, I received a letter from Mr. Menachem Raffalovitch (Haifa) informing me that a similar story is quoted in Sha’arei Aryeh (Jerusalem, 1958) by the late Rabbi Arye Mordecai Rabbinowitz.
The Jewish Press, Friday, December 20, 1991 page 8b