It was 1976, and I traveled across the entire country of Israel seeking blessings from righteous sages for my daughter’s health and recovery. She had recently been diagnosed with cancer, and we were desperately trying to find a cure for her. We tried everything and anything, also seeking blessings and prayers from the holy ones among our nation. Many prayed on her behalf, and we received many blessings for her cure, yet we continued to seek more.

While visiting New York to see certain medical specialists, we made an appointment with Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the Lubavitcher Rebbe, of righteous memory. I expected this visit to be like the many others I had experienced with great sages. This time, I brought my daughter with me.

We entered the Rebbe’s study, and the Rebbe rose for us and asked us to sit down.

I got straight to the point. “Rebbe, I have heard that many miracles come from this room. Please give my daughter a blessing that she should be cured!” I got straight to the point. “Rebbe, I have heard that many miracles come from this room. Please give my daughter a blessing that she should be cured!”

The Rebbe responded, “Only G‑d does miracles. I go to the grave of my father-in-law [the sixth Chabad Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn], and beseech him to intercede before G‑d on behalf of the requests I receive.”

I begged, “Please go to your father-in-law’s grave to pray on my daughter’s behalf.”

The Rebbe signaled kindly that the audience was finished, and escorted us with his eyes as we left.

When we reached the door, the Rebbe turned to me and asked, “How are you flying back home?”

I explained to the Rebbe that we had planned to fly through London and then on to Israel.

“I think,” the Rebbe suggested, “you should change the ticket to a direct flight from New York to Israel. The humidity in London will not be good for your daughter’s health.”

With those words I left the Rebbe’s office. And with those words my life was changed. We were with the Rebbe for less than two minutes, and yet I felt that the Rebbe truly cared for our daughter. So deep was his concern that he showed interest even in our flight plans and my daughter’s comfort on the trip home.

A few months later, my daughter succumbed to her illness. There is no greater anguish than a parent losing a child. Yet, through my daughter, the Rebbe left his mark permanently on my life.