The young men of our rabbinical seminary saw the tremendous reviving powers of gratitude in a “live broadcast”; one of our students tells the story:

“One night, when returning from personal prayer in the woods, I passed by a supermarket. One of the workers saw me with my beard and sidecurls and ran up to me in a panic. He told me that his 12-year old sister was deathly ill because she accidentally swallowed poison. She was hospitalized in ICU and all her bodily functions were collapsing. She and her brother are orphans, and while he is on his own, she is being raised by their aunt.

“The young man had just been informed that his sister didn’t have long to live. He was hysteric with a frustrating feeling of futility. I told him to get in the car — we’re driving to King David’s tomb on Mount Zion in Jerusalem.

“Once we arrived, at midnight, the young man burst out crying and screaming. I calmed him down and suggested that we read together Psalm 100, the Psalm of gratitude. We did, and I sang and danced too. The young man thought I was crazy. I forced him to join me and explained to him the power of gratitude. While were dancing, he got a text message that his sister’s condition was worsening. I forced him to ignore it.”

A few minutes later, he got a call from the hospital. The doctors weren’t giving the girl any chance of surviving and his aunt wanted him to sign a paper to disconnect her from the respirator, which was needed for a new patient that was also deathly ill.

The young man didn’t agree under any circumstances. The doctors and his aunt did everything to persuade him. He finally begged them to give him a few more minutes. The aunt said, “If whatever you’re doing succeeds in working, I’ll commit to pray every day!”

“Meanwhile,” our student continued, “a few other people joined us in singing Psalm 100 and dancing, while praying for the miraculous recovery of the young girl, who was hospitalized outside of Israel in Paris, France where the aunt lived. I wouldn’t let the brother stop dancing and thanking Hashem.”

All of a sudden, the young man stopped dancing; he received a text message that the Israeli Consul was visiting the hospital…

The consul heard about the 12-year old girl from Israel who was also an orphan. He decided to visit her room. When he got there, he heard yelling and arguing; he heard that the medical staff wanted to discontinue life support. The Israel consul approached the chief physician of the department and asked if there was something else that could be done.

The doctor said, “There is one option, but the chances of success are close to nil – surgery.”

The consul personally contacted the brother in Israel who was with all of us at King David’s tomb. The brother immediately agreed to the surgery. In eighteen minutes, they’d know if the emergency surgery succeeded or not.

At first, it appeared to the surgeon that the young girl’s life was about to terminate. Suddenly, in the eighteenth minute, she began to come out of her coma.

The group at King David’s tomb was delirious with joy. They sang and danced like never before. Our student told the girl’s brother, “Call your aunt now – she has a promise to keep!”

The brother’s phone rang again. This time, it was the doctor from France, an Arab. The doctor asked, “What did you do over there?”

The brother answered, “We turned to the Creator.”

The doctor said, “I know that you turned to Him, but you did something else that you’re concealing from me. The miracle was too great – that little girl was finished. I saw it with my own eyes. The consul arriving at the hospital, the unexpected surgery – nothing makes sense. It’s just not logical.”

The brother said, “We thanked the Creator that my sister was about to die, telling Him that we believe in His mercy and that He does everything for the very best. We sang songs of praise and danced to the Creator.”

The French doctor was silent for several moments. “I’m thoroughly moved by what you are telling me and I know it’s the truth. I’m an Arab, but I have feelings for the Jews. I’ll share a secret with you – my mother is Jewish.” In that case, the French-Arab doctor is a Jew!

The whole cycle of events was less than two hours.

In the end, the girl was in a convalescent facility for two weeks and then discharged to go home.

Today, the aunt prays every day. And, the doctor knows he’s Jewish.