I'm sticking up his standard mug-shot up again, but I know I should do him a nice picture to illustrate his pieces here on Emunaroma.
BH, I'll get to it...
Here’s a beautiful, memorable and, hopefully, very meaningful story:
Some years ago, in the dark days of the intifada, when suicide bombings were destroying lives and reaping destruction across our precious land, the following story took place.
A man and his wife were driving home, late one afternoon, passing through one of the main highways in central Jerusalem. As they came to a stop at the traffic lights, they heard the sound of a tremendous explosion. They couldn’t see the blast from where they were, but from the deafening roar of the explosion it couldn’t have been too far away.
One street over, a suicide bomber had just blown himself up on a packed bus. After the explosion there was a brief silence whilst the shock of what had just happened registered, followed by the screams, and cries, and not long after, the shrill of police sirens and medical services racing to the scene.
One of the passengers on the bus gave over the following account of her experience:
“I saw a blinding light, and then nothing. Everything went quiet. The bomber had exploded his device right across from where I was standing. They took me out of the bus and laid me down on the sidewalk with the rest of the badly injured, and those that did not make it.
"I had my eyes closed, but I could see everything that was happening around me. I knew I had died, but it didn’t seem to concern me. I began to rise above my body, and to watch the scene unfold from above. They were trying to resuscitate me, but it did not help. Then, I saw a pure, bright and beautiful light shining above me and I started to rise, moving towards the light. As I rose higher I could see all my surroundings below. First the bus, and all the emergency services gathered around, then the trees, the buildings and the surroundings, as I began moving higher and higher, towards the light.
"Suddenly, I began to hear a beautiful sound. Like music, but much, much more beautiful. A sound I had never heard before, but it was so beautiful, and I strained to hear it. It seemed to be coming from on the ground somewhere, so I decided that instead of rising I would go down to try to find the source of this music. It was difficult to resist going towards the light, but the sound was so beautiful, I forced myself to go back down towards the ground.
"I looked around to find the source of the beautiful music and saw that it was coming from a street away. I saw a road and a row of cars stopped. I knew it must be coming from one of those cars. I came down and looked in each of the cars until I found the source.
"There, in the front seat of the car, a woman held a book of Tehillim on her lap. She was reciting Tehillim with tears streaming down her face. The sound coming from her was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. I suddenly awoke on the sidewalk, next to the bus.
"The paramedics rushed over to me, put me on a stretcher and raced me to hospital.
"It took a few months for me to heal from my injuries. But when I was released from hospital, I knew I had to find that woman in the car.
"I found a therapist who was able to put me under hypnosis and take me back to the event, until I could read the licence plate number on the car. I found the details of the owner and went to their apartment, in one of the suburbs of Jerusalem.
"I knocked on the door, and it was opened by a middle-aged woman, the same one that I saw in the car reciting Tehillim. I explained to woman that she had saved my life.
"She invited me in and we spoke. She told me that she and her husband were driving when they heard the blast, and didn’t know what to do. Then she remembered she had a book of Tehillim in the dashboard, “I just took it out and started to read.””
Like I said - if we truly understood the power of prayer, we’d simply pray all day long.