The Oil of the Ropshitzer

The Shinover Rav, author of Divrei Yechezkel, did not omit Tachanun on the yahrzeits of tzaddikim, and he was not accustomed to visit their gravesites. He made one exception. He observed the yahrzeit of the holy Ropshitzer Rav, author of Zera Kodesh, and visited his tziyun, because he felt he owed his very life to him.

This is the story. When Rav Yechezkel Shraga was seven years old, his life was nearly cut short by a terrible accident. His uncle, Rav Avigdor of Dukla, was visiting his brother, Rav Chaim of Sanz, in Rudnik. As Rav Avigdor was leaving and had already entered his carriage, he realized he had forgotten something in the house and sent young Yechezkel Shraga to fetch it.

In his eagerness to help his uncle, the boy dashed across the street. A wagon carrying a heavy load of lumber came racing down the road and ran him over. The heavy wheels crushed his body. The doctors who rushed to examine him shook their heads in despair, for the wheel had cut his liver in half.

Hearing the diagnosis, Rav Avigdor raised his hands to Heaven and cried, “Ribbono Shel Olam, if I am destined to have a son, I would gladly give him up in exchange, so that this boy may live.” It is told that Rav Avigdor never did have any sons, only daughters.

The holy Divrei Chaim examined his son’s broken body, and, according to the tradition, under each limb he touched the bones knit together and straightened. Even in his old age, people, especially physicians, would remark on how straight and stately the Shinover Rav’s stature was.

Still, the Divrei Chaim feared for his child’s life, since the internal organs had been damaged beyond natural repair. He sent word with one of the chassidim to his own Rebbe, the great tzaddik Rav Naftali of Ropshitz, to daven for his son. The Ropshitzer did that and more. He sent back a flask of pure olive oil with instructions to anoint and massage the child’s body. In a short time, miraculously, the boy was well again.

In his old age, in a weakened state, the Shinover Rav would retell his miraculous rescue. He remembered how, as he was massaged with the oil sent by the Ropshitzer, he could feel his bones mending and his organs restoring themselves until he was healed and whole. Then he would sigh and say longingly, “Where could we get such pure, holy oil today if we needed it?”