The Wonders of Harav Yitzchack Kadouri

146 I fell asleep from exhaustion. Without warning, I saw the Rav in my dreams, beckoning for me to come closer to him. I came closer, and he cryptically said, “Tell my attendants and the members of the household that I want you, only you, to be my permanent chazzan.” As his usual custom, the Rav did not reveal the reason for his request, nor add anything else. I awoke with a start, full of emotion, wondering what the Rav meant. Innocently, and in an elated state, I attributed the dream to my clear rendition of the prayers when I would of¿ciate for the congregation, whether it was the Morning, Afternoon or Evening Prayers. Word for word, without mistakes or swallowing any words of prayer, is why I thought that the Rav chose me to be his chazzan. G-d’s will reigns supreme The pleasant Jerusalem morning greets me and gently strokes my face. I awake and drive to the Nachalat Yitzchak synagogue in the Bucharim section, looking forward to a positive response about my dream by those who attend to the Rav. Innocently, I tell them what I saw in my dream. Their reaction, though, was one of negation, a wave of the hand, as if to say, dreams speak folly. Yet, “Man has many thoughts, but G-d’s will reigns supreme.” The interpretations of dreams and their ful¿llment come from Above. This event took place in 1999, more than a decade ago. Its impression remained etched in my heart, as if it was engraved in stone. Eventually its interpretation became apparent, as you will soon read. Indicating their hope for the future Certainly the Rav knew of future events and even hand a hand in directing their course. Years passed, and I merited building the edi¿ce on the graveside of the Rav. No one asked me to, nor was it anyone else’s idea. I sit there, day after day, hour by hour, and see hordes of people coming to Har Hamenuchot in the Givat Shaul area of Jerusalem. From all corners of the globe, they come to place their requests before the One Above, and with tears on their face they pray for Divine compassion, to be answered in the merit of the Rav. Then they approach me, almost as if some invisible hand guides them in my direction, and share with me, Meir Malka, their story. They pour out the pain in their heart, and ask me, their humble servant, for a