Tehillim 121 – “Me'ayin Yavo Ezri” – From Where Does Salvation Come?

Tehillim 121 – “Me'ayin Yavo Ezri” – Stories of Tzadikim

People came from various towns to the fourth Lubavitcher Rebbe, the Rebbe Maharash, bringing their worries and fears. Some were plagued by financial hardship, others by childlessness; some could not marry off their daughters, while others were unable to find healing. They were all united by one final hope: help from the Rebbe Maharash. Among these visitors was Reb Shmuel Baron, a well-known and respected Chassid distinguished by his fear of G-d and generosity. He owned a distillery. Twice a year he would visit the Rebbe—on Rosh Hashanah and on the 19th of Kislev. All the visitors understood that something unusual must have happened for such a man to appear on an ordinary day and wait in line to see the Rebbe. But Reb Shmuel quietly waited his turn, reciting Tehillim. When his turn finally came to enter the Rebbe’s room, he was so moved that he could not hold back his tears. They preceded the tzadik’s question about what had happened. “As the Rebbe knows,” Reb Shmuel began, “I produce vodka. It is a profitable business, and therefore the government imposed a special tax on all producers of alcoholic beverages. For this purpose, a special meter is installed on the large tank from which the vodka is bottled, to measure the number of liters. A special government official comes regularly to inspect the meter’s readings. He determines the amount of tax that must be paid. Until now, everything had gone well, and our records of the amount bottled always matched the meter’s readings. Then disaster struck. One of my workers ‘invented’ a way to steal vodka—not only from me, but from the government as well. He made a hole in the side of the tank and siphoned off the alcohol, bypassing the meter. Another worker caught him, and the two of them continued stealing alcohol together until they quarreled and one of them turned the police against the other. But during the investigation, one of them claimed that he had done everything on the owner’s instructions—in other words, mine. They released him and arrested me.” He went on to explain that his family and friends had made enormous efforts to collect a large sum of money for bail and secure his release before the trial. And now he had come to the Rebbe to ask for advice and help; otherwise, he faced many years of hard labor in Siberia. At this point Reb Shmuel burst into tears, crying: “Rebbe! Help me! I do not know from where my salvation will come!” He said the last sentence in Hebrew, quoting it from Tehillim. The Rebbe picked up the words and repeated them, but with a different intonation: “Me'ayin yavo ezri?” “Me-ayin yavo ezri!” (In Hebrew, this is a play on words: “me'ayin” means “from where,” while “me ayin” means “from nothing.”) It means that salvation will come “from nothing,” from nowhere—at the very moment when it is completely unclear what could possibly help you, when it seems that there is no chance of salvation at all. Go home now, and when you meet another Jew who is also suffering and cries out, “From where will my salvation come?,” help him with everything he needs. If you help him, G-d will help you with everything you need.” Reb Shmuel left the Rebbe’s room and returned to the reception area with an entirely different expression on his face. He understood that he needed to find another suffering Jew. And then, by hashgachah pratit, Reb Shmuel heard from close acquaintances the sad story of his old friend, Reb Chaim, who owned a small inn on the very bank of the Dvina River, not far from Lubavitch. His business had been doing well—very well, in fact. Then, in a single instant, disaster struck: a terrible fire, especially devastating in wooden Russia, consumed Chaim’s inn, leaving him and his many children out in the street without even a piece of bread. Upon hearing of this tragedy, Reb Shmuel literally forgot his own troubles. Instead of going home to prepare for his trial, he rushed to the site of the fire. Reb Shmuel immediately offered the fire victim a large sum of money as a loan, so that he could rebuild the inn and start his profitable business again. “How can I take money from you, knowing that you yourself are in trouble?” Reb Chaim asked, shaking his head. “You will surely need a great deal of money for your trial. Your factory has been closed and sealed, and no one knows when you will be able to earn money again. No, do not even ask—I will not take anything from you. And as for the Almighty, I am certain that He will not abandon me, as it says in Tehillim: ‘From where will my salvation come? My salvation is from the L-rd, Maker of heaven and earth.’” As soon as Reb Shmuel heard these final words, he realized that this was precisely what the Rebbe Maharash had meant when he told him to help a person in distress who would say the words: “From where will my salvation come?” Reb Shmuel did not stop urging Reb Chaim until he agreed to accept the money to build a new inn. Only then did the man accused of theft calm down about the outcome of his case, while the grateful fire victim blessed him tearfully, wishing that he would emerge from his troubles as easily as Reb Chaim himself had, thanks to his generous assistance. They parted, and Reb Shmuel returned home. During the long weeks remaining before the trial, he devoted himself to prayer and reciting Tehillim. A great many people gathered at the trial. Among them were the city’s most prominent and wealthy residents—mostly Russians—who had come to testify in court to the accused man’s good character and absolute honesty. Despite this, Reb Shmuel’s position was virtually hopeless. The actual thieves swore that they had acted on his direct orders, while the prosecutor demanded severe punishment. In his final statement, Reb Shmuel said: “Only G-d knows the truth, and He is my witness that I am innocent and have been falsely accused.” Then came the judge’s decisive statement. Before summing up who was lying and who was telling the truth, he decided to tell a story, exercising the authority granted to him. He told how, many years earlier, a young man from a noble family had been traveling by train. Along the way, he had to change trains. While waiting at the station, the young man went into the buffet to get something to eat. What was his horror when he returned to the waiting room and discovered that his luggage was gone! Among other things, it contained his ticket and money. Unaccustomed to asking strangers for help, he spent several days at the station. He went hungry and slept there, but no one hurried to help him or even paid him any attention. One day, a young merchant stepped off an arriving train. He immediately noticed the boy and realized that something was wrong. The merchant invited him to the buffet, fed him until he was full, asked him about his situation, bought him a first-class ticket home, as befitted the son of a nobleman, and also gave him money for the journey. When the happy young man began asking his savior for his name and address so that he could repay him, the merchant said: “When you meet another person in difficult circumstances, help him. That is how you will repay your debt to me.” Throughout the judge’s story, Reb Shmuel heard nothing. He was remembering the words of the Rebbe Maharash: “Me'ayin yavo ezri? Me-ayin yavo ezri!” At that point the judge continued: “The young man I told you about was me. And the young merchant who saved me from death at the railway station was none other than the Jew Shmuel Baron, sitting before you now in the dock. All these years I dreamed of thanking my savior and repaying my debt to him. When he spoke sincerely and with tears in his eyes, I recognized him. I am therefore certain that he is an honest merchant and that he stole nothing. For a person capable of taking a considerable sum from his own pocket and giving it to the first person he encounters who needs help—especially someone belonging to another nation and another faith—could never commit a crime. I am personally convinced that he is completely innocent, but the decision belongs to the jury—justice is in their hands!” When the jurors returned to the courtroom and announced, “Not guilty! Unanimously!”, Reb Shmuel heard an entirely different message: “Me-ayin yavo ezri. Even when there is nothing to hope for and salvation seems to have nowhere to come from, help another Jew in distress, and the Almighty, blessed be He, will help you!” (Based on the book “Mercy” by Rabbi Mishael A.)