He was an exceptional student, showing prodigious energy and aptitude. All the teachers at the yeshivah foretold great things for him.

But his energies were not controlled. True, he could study for hours without rest, but he could also party the night away without rest!

His teachers never suspected there was anything amiss. They could not fathom how anyone who could apply himself to the Talmud and its commentaries so diligently could have anything but Torah study on his mind.

How wrong they were! After the yeshivah day was over, he would go to night spots and participate in activity that was most unbefitting for a yeshivah student.

This schizophrenic existence might have continued endlessly, except that the young man became infatuated with a woman. A short while after they met, they were standing together outside the Civil Court married!

The young man knew his parents would never consent to such a match. They were from a traditional family, and would want him to marry a girl from a similar background, perhaps the daughter of a Rabbi. A woman off the street?! That would break their hearts.

Rather than tell his parents the truth, the young man devised a plan. He would explain to his father that he needed to earn money, and was leaving yeshivah for a year to work. During that time, he could remain married, and over the course of the year he would find a way to communicate the news to his parents in a way that would hurt them least.

So he called his father and told him that he had been in an auto accident. Thank G‑d, he had escaped without injury, but he had destroyed a car belonging to a friend. Unfortunately, the car had not been insured. He could not, he told his father, bear to cause his friend such a loss. Nor would he be willing to accept the money from his parents, for he knew they were not wealthy. There were other children in the family, and soon there would be weddings and other expenses to think of.

Hard as it was, he continued, he would have to make a sacrifice. He would leave yeshivah for a year and work to repay the debt.

His father wouldn’t hear of it. Yes, the debt would have to be paid, but somehow the older man would find a way. His son was a promising yeshivah student, and he wanted nothing more than for him to live up to his potential. He would not consent to his leaving yeshivah.

At this point, the son had another idea. His father was nurturing a growing respect for the Lubavitcher Rebbe. The young man reasoned that the Rebbe, though a traditional religious leader, was also a modern man. After all, he had attended university, hadn’t he? He was, the young man thought, the type of Rabbi who might agree to his scheme. And so the son suggested that the question be put to the Rebbe. If the Rebbe told him to remain in yeshivah, he would. But if the Rebbe consented to his getting a job, his father would have to accept that decision.

The father was willing to have the Rebbe decide, and dispatched the young man, together with an older brother, to 770. Apparently, the two thought they would be able to arrange yechidus. When this proved impossible, the young man wrote a letter to the Rebbe instead, repeating the tall tale he had told his father, and asking whether he should remain in yeshivah or go to work.

Shortly after submitting his letter, he returned to see if there was an answer. As was his custom, the Rebbe had written a reply at the bottom of the letter.

The answer surprised the young man. The Rebbe had ignored the two suggested alternatives, and instead wrote briefly: “Go home.”

Now this was the furthest thing from the young man’s mind. He quickly surveyed the situation. No one else had seen the Rebbe’s answer; perhaps even the secretary had not noticed what the Rebbe had written. The practice in 770 was not to take the note with the Rebbe’s handwriting, but to copy the answer down on another piece of paper.

So the young man wrote that the Rebbe had told him to go to work!

His brother was waiting for him outside 770. He listened to the answer his brother had purportedly received, and the two turned to depart. Suddenly, the brother remembered that he had several acquaintances studying in 770. “Wait a moment,” he told his brother, “I just want to say hello.”

When the brother entered 770, he was met by Rabbi Chodakov, the Rebbe’s personal secretary. “The Rebbe sent me to look for you,” he told the brother. “He would like to see you after the evening prayers.”

Not knowing what to expect, the older brother waited outside the Rebbe’s room that evening. The Rebbe was direct and to the point: “Take your brother home; be careful not to let him out of your sight.”

“Wait! Didn’t the Rebbe tell my brother to go work?” the brother asked.

“Whatever was answered before is not important,” the Rebbe replied diplomatically. “Now take your brother home.”

When the older brother conveyed the Rebbe’s message to his brother, the young man was shaken. For the first time in weeks, he came face to face with reality, and it wasn’t a pleasant experience. He looked at his spiritual state, and began to appreciate how low he had fallen. And to make matters worse, he had formalized the descent; according to the law of the land, he was married!

He understood now who the Rebbe was, and that he had seen through his facade. And he appreciated the fact that the Rebbe hadn’t criticized him, but allowed him to come to this realization himself. He knew that he desperately needed advice and direction.

Asking his brother to wait, he wrote another letter to the Rebbe. This time, he told the truth. With tears of remorse, he told the Rebbe everything and asked what he should do.

The Rebbe told him to go home and tell his father his entire story. Yes, it would be painful, but the reward he would receive would outweigh the pain. Afterwards, the father should contact the Rebbe, and the Rebbe would advise him with regard to finding a lawyer to annul the marriage.

The remorseful young man followed the Rebbe’s advice. Through ongoing contact with the Rebbe, he was able to find a way to reverse his conduct, and grew to become a G‑d-fearing Torah scholar.