Late last night, the Rebbe appeared in one of my dreams.
Yes, the Moshiach.
Yes, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson.
The Rabbi that escaped from Hitler’s hands to end up living in New York.
The late, last leader of Chabad-Lubavitcher movement spoke to me in a dream.
This High-Holiday Jew dreamt about the Rebbe.
This believer in miracles touched the Rebbe and heard his words.
This attorney, who for ten years, hung a poster of the Rebbe on his office door, looked into the Rebbe’s eyes.
So you may ask, “How did he look?”
“He looked great. His eyes shined and his face glowed. Time ceased affecting his appearance.
Nothing had changed.
He wore a black fedora, a black coat and a white beard.”
“In my dream, as I waited in line to meet him, I hoped the Rebbe would— answer my prayers, hand me a dollar bill, give me some advice, a blessings or a heavenly message.”
Late last night before I fell asleep, I watched the Monsey story break on CNN.
In a rabbi’s home in Monsey, New York filled with dozens of Hasidim (orthodox Jews), including 20 children were attacked as the rabbi finished lighting the Hanukkah candles.
A Monsey congregation praying in a rabbi’s home was attacked by an a Hitler-loving, anti-Semite wielding a machete on Hanukkah.
Last night, as I placed my head on my pillow, I feared I’d dream of a floor covered in blood, guts, broken glass and reflective silver knives.
A floor flooded in flames and broken menorahs.
A room filled with the pungent odors of melted wax, and burning dreidels, latkes, sufganiyah (jelly donuts) and chocolate Maccabees dressed in foil.
A room filled with the screams of horrified children.
A room filled with the moans of the wounded.
But instead of cries or moans or screams, I dreamed of:
The Rebbe that encouraged all Jews to light the menorah;
The do-good-deeds-and-acts-of-kindness Rebbe;
The make-the-world-a-better-place Rebbe;
And the eliminate-human-suffering Rebbe.
I looked into his eyes, I asked, “Rebbe, what should American Jews do after the Monsey attack?”
Nervously pulling on his beard with both his hands, he said, “Remember I witnessed the rise of the Nazi party in Berlin.
I witnessed the elections in Germany.
In times of darkness, it is your duty, your mission to light a candle.
The light of which will be seen by everyone.
When it comes to saving lives, I speak up, no matter what others may say.
Be as vigilant as the Maccabees.
Be as prepared as the IDF.
Especially on the precarious day of Wednesday November 4, 2020.”
Late last night, my Rebbe dream abruptly ended.
I awoke rattled and puzzled, “Why November 4th?”
And then I remembered what was going to happen on Tuesday November 3rd, 2020.