It was not the lure of a new frontier that brought the Schochet family from Europe to Canada in the early 1950’s. Rabbi Dov Yehudah Schochet was a distinguished Rabbi in Holland. Nevertheless, as his children grew, his concern for their education led him to immigrate to Toronto, where they could attend excellent yeshivos and benefit from the city’s growing Torah community.

The Toronto community was quick to appreciate Rabbi Schochet’s unique gifts, and he had little difficulty finding a Rabbinical post. As his home became an address for Jewish activity, their integration into the new city became easier. There were, nevertheless, considerable hardships during those first few years, such as a lack of a hot water heater and telephone.

“I particularly remember the assistance offered to our family by the Lubavitchers in Toronto,” recalls Rabbi David Schochet, himself Rabbi of the Toronto Lubavitch community today. “The Lubavitchers gave much more than financial support. They played a major role in helping to fulfill the educational goals which my father had set for our family.”

These chassidim shared stories of the Rebbe and his teachings with Rabbi Schochet. He was impressed, but still felt that he could not make a personal commitment to Lubavitch without more knowledge of the chassidic lifestyle.

During the holiday of Sukkos in 1952, a daughter of one of the Lubavitch families suffered from food poisoning, and her situation was quite serious. Her parents asked the Rebbe for a blessing for her recovery. The Rebbe agreed, and suggested that the parents immediately prepare a generous and joyous kiddush in shul on the coming Shabbos.

The kiddush was indeed an inspiring affair, with everyone’s spirits uplifted in true chassidic joy. Rabbi Schochet participated in this kiddush and was both moved and mystified. “How could the parents and acquaintances of a critically ill girl manage to express such genuine good cheer?” he wondered. Soon the child recovered, and it was clear that she had suffered no permanent damage.

Less than a month after this incident, the Schochet family themselves met with similar turmoil. The Schochet’s tiny one-and-a-half year old daughter overturned a huge kettle of boiling water and burned herself severely. The child was rushed to the hospital and placed in intensive care. She had suffered heavy burns on her entire body and her condition was nearly fatal. The child was quarantined for fear of infection, and even her parents were not allowed in her room.

From the hospital, Rabbi Schochet called “770”. To his surprise, the Rebbe himself answered the phone. He listened patiently as Rabbi Schochet described the situation and requested a blessing. The Rebbe diverted the conversation to other matters. He inquired about the family’s integration in their new place, Rabbi Schochet’s Rabbinic post and other details. There was no mention of the immediate emergency. The Rebbe concluded with a token blessing and ended the conversation.

Rabbi Schochet was left stunned; no direct blessing for his daughter’s recovery, only what appeared to be polite concern with his family’s adjustment.

The next day, the Schochets received a message from the Rebbe’s secretary. “The Rebbe has requested that you prepare a generous kiddush and seudas hoda’ah this Shabbos expressing your gratitude for G‑d’s providence with a festive meal.”

This encouraging message stood in dire opposition to the grim forecasts predicted by the doctors. However, the Schochets were optimistic. Had they not themselves witnessed a precedent only a month before? “It was a very joyous kiddush,” recalls Rabbi David Schochet.

Days went by with the family maintaining telephone contact with the hospital three times a day from a nearby store. Suddenly, about two weeks after the accident, a police vehicle stopped in front of the Schochet’s home. The officer who knocked at the door had a grave expression on his face. “We were requested to inform you that your daughter’s condition has taken a sharp turn for the worse. The doctors fear that her days or perhaps hours are numbered,” he said. The officer offered to drive the distraught family to the hospital.

“Only my father was allowed to enter the room,” recalls Rabbi David Schochet. “When he emerged his face was ashen. Our little sister’s skin was rapidly losing color and the doctors had no hope for her survival.”

Rabbi Schochet immediately contacted the Rebbe’s office and described the desperate situation. The Rebbe’s response was most unexpected. “Nonsense! The child is not in danger and will regain her health,” the Rebbe said. He instructed the dumbstruck father to protest loudly against the hospital staff, blaming them for causing the deterioration in the child’s condition.

Rabbi Schochet felt totally helpless. He was intimidated by the professional staff, who looked at him as a mere “greenhorn.” Whom was he to approach? What was he to say? Evidently the Rebbe sensed his hesitation, for he repeated his instruction once again.

Slowly, the Rebbe’s words sank in. Rabbi Schochet thought about the miraculous recovery of the other child only a month earlier. He did not doubt the Rebbe, and he mustered up the courage to confront the hospital staff with resolute determination. The doctors agreed to review his daughter’s treatment carefully. To everyone’s horror, it was discovered than an error in the I.V. dosage had caused unnecessary complications, and had endangered the child’s life. The dosage was corrected and the little girl recovered. Since then, she has merited to tell the story many times to her children and her grandchildren.