Rabbi Yom Tov Glaser
The Perfect Forest
והיה כי יביאך ד' אלקיך אל הארץ
And it will be when Hashem, your G-d, brings you to the Land… (Devarim 11:29)
After my wife and I had finalized our engagement, we both were beyond excited. However, for certain reasons, my Rosh Yeshiva in Aish HaTorah shortly thereafter recommended that our engagement be broken off. Respecting his opinion and understanding where he was coming from, I knew that I should listen to him.
When I later approached my kallah in Tzfat and broke the news, her reply was, “Baruch Hashem.” “What do you mean ‘Baruch Hashem’?” I said. “I thought you wanted to marry me?” “I want what Hashem wants,” she said. “I thought that Hashem wanted me to marry you and I was very happy. Now that you are telling me that the engagement is off, it seems that Hashem does not want us to get married. Were we to do so, it may be a mistake. That is why I say, ‘Baruch Hashem.’”
As soon as she finished explaining what she meant, all I could think of was how I now needed to marry her. “She is so special,” I said to myself. “That is the kind of wife I am looking for.” But it didn’t seem like those dreams were going to materialize.
A week later, I found myself davening at the Kotel. On my way out, I stopped off by the water fountain to take a quick drink. Making the requisite blessing of Shehakol, I pressed down the button and began drinking. And then I heard a voice behind me. “How did you know it was going to work? Maybe when you pushed the button, no water would have come out, and you could have said G-d’s name in vain!”
Looking back behind me, there she was. Aside from never having considered the possibility of water not actually flowing out, I was taken aback by the beautiful commitment and connection my previous kallah had to Torah and mitzvot. And there I was thinking again, “I need to marry her; she is so special.”
As the days passed, my kallah eventually learned that I had grown especially depressed due to the breakup. Possessing a Breslov flair, she was accustomed to entering the forest and praying. At this point, she was staying in Har Nof, next to the Jerusalem Forest. And so, one day, when she went into the forest for her usual hitbodedut (meditation), she davened that I be able to cope with what happened and happily move on in life.
But, as Divine Providence had it, it was clear that we were supposed to get married. We shared much in common and my Rosh Yeshiva agreed that we should get reengaged. And so we did. We went on to choose a wedding hall, after which my now renewed kallah proceeded to fly to America.
Sometime later, she called me and said, “I have been thinking about it, and I want to get married on Eretz Yisrael.” Wondering what she meant by this, I asked, “What do you mean ‘on’ Eretz Yisrael?” “I don’t want to get married in a wedding hall,” she explained, “I want to get married on the land of Israel itself. I want to feel the earth underneath my feet.” While the idea sounded nice, I wasn’t sure how the logistics would work out. Asking her what she had in mind, she said, “It’s simple. Go and grab your mountain bike and ride around until you find a nice spot.” Being that I am an athletic mountain biker, I happily embraced the challenge.
Although I knew that it wouldn’t be too easy to find the perfect area, I ambitiously headed out on the excursion. I was looking for a large area which had extra space to accommodate parking and provide the convenient amenities for elderly people, including my Rebbe, the Pinsk-Karliner Rebbe zt”l, and the Rosh Yeshiva of Aish HaTorah. After five hours of maneuvering just about through all of the Jerusalem Forest, I finally came across a site I felt fit the criteria.
Calling my kallah later that night, I related what I had done and described to her the exact location I had found. When she heard what I had to say, she couldn’t believe it. “That spot in the forest is the exact same place I davened for you when you were feeling down.” And indeed, that is where we got married.
Every year, my wife and I along with our children revisit that same spot in the forest. My wife puts on her wedding veil and walks around me seven times just like a kallah does to her chattan, and all our children stand there laughing. With tears of joy filling our eyes, we daven together for our children and Am Yisrael. And let me tell you, it is beautiful.
Many times throughout life we face situations which leave us depressed and despondent. Feelings of hopelessness set in and we slowly lose our inner tranquility and peace of mind. But then, matters improve, and we see a brighter future beckoning on the horizon. Life returns to normal and we regain our inner composure. It is then that we come to realize that even during those gloomy moments we were being supported. We were being carried by a loving hand and listened to by an attentive ear. At the very moment we felt things could get no worse, our greatest salvation was conceived. Hashem never abandoned us; He was only clearing the way amid the forest for our most beautiful future.