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In the opening verse of this week’s Torah portion we read “Now the Lord appeared to him in the plains of Mamre and he was sitting at the entrance of the tent when the day was hot”.

Wanting Avraham to rest and recuperate after his circumcision at the tender age of 99, G-d created a scorching heat wave to ensure no passerby would venture through the desert highway and disturb Avraham in his tent. Nevertheless, so devoted was he to his mission of spreading monotheism, that Avraham was devastated. He wanted to seize any opportunity to entertain guests despite his fragile state. He was waiting anxiously by the entrance of his tent to see if there would be travellers on the road despite the blistering heat. G-d finally relented and sent three angels disguised as Arab travellers. Avraham was absolutely thrilled, and true to his passion, he rushed out to invite them into his home.

The tale reminded me of my very own heat wave several weeks back.

Preparations for the event began weeks in advance. We rented a hall; ordered the tables, met with caterers and organized the deco for our Simchat Torah dinner-dance program. We printed leaflets of popular songs, organized the hakafot, and ran a publicity campaign. By the time the evening arrived, we felt pretty accomplished. Satisfied with our weeks of effort, we walked into the hall....only to be greeted by a blast of hot air. I ran out to find the super, who casually informed me that the air conditioning had malfunctioned. In fact, the building department had left just before I arrived to shut down what they deemed a hazardous AC. Great!

As the disappointment bubbled inside me, a number of questions chased around my brain. Why couldn’t it have happened the day before? Why today of all days? The one day of the year that we rent this hall and the AC has to break down...And it wasn’t just hot – it was boiling hot.

Once the initial frustration died down, I resigned myself to the fact that G-d runs the world according to a master plan, and that everything happens for a reason. I had no idea why He had to pick tonight of all nights, but either way, we went on with the program. In the end, the evening proved a massive success, with energy pumping through the nearly tangible air. We learnt from Avraham that joy has no barriers- not pain and definitely not heat.

I learnt that day to prepare myself for any eventuality. We can work as hard as we want, but in the end, G-d runs the show and determines its success or failure. Who knows, maybe that night G-d was testing our perseverance?

On Friday morning of Simchat Torah, I was slightly surprised when I walked into shul at the Marriot Hotel and was greeted by two Yeshiva students from Brooklyn. Ori and Shai explained that upon the completion of their army service, they became religious and decided to study in a Yeshiva. They had spent Sukkot at Chabad’s World Headquarters in Crown Heights, Brooklyn.

As is the custom instituted by the Lubavitcher Rebbe, yeshiva students all over the world branch out to different communities on Simchat Torah to join in the dancing and liven up the atmosphere, as only young blood can. Ori and Shai, still fit from their army days, chose to walk to the furthest shul within walking distance. They gathered a group of twelve other guys to make the five hour trek to the Bronx, remain there for three hours and then return home. As it turned out, all twelve copped out.

After dancing the night away, Ori and Shai set out to Brooklyn at 10pm. It wasn’t long before the blisters started swelling painfully and desperation began to sink in. The plan was to seek out a Chabad House and spend the night there. At around 2am, they somehow found themselves in a rain- drenched Upper East Side and were directed by a local to the “Jewish Center” at 206 E 95th. Not knowing a word of English, they struggled to communicate with the baffled doormen of both our preschool building and our home, both of whom denied them access. Resigning themselves, they sought shelter under a canopy just outside the Chabad House where they spent the remainder of the night in the unfriendly storm. With the arrival of morning, Ori and Shai headed to shul where we pampered them with great food and real beds.

During one of our many conversations, I asked the two to please convey my regards to a friend in Israel, who, as it turns out, they also knew. When I asked them how they would remember my name, they replied in all seriousness, “Are you kidding? The entire night we wondered how we would wake up Vigler, where is Vigler, Vigler, Vigler... that’s not a name we’ll forget too fast!”

The hero of this week’s parsha (Lech Lecha) is none other than Avraham Avinu. Renowned for his unprejudiced generosity and intense kindness, Avraham took great pride in his desert hotel... an all-open tent servicing all wayfarers, religion and affiliations irrelevant. In our generation, we too were fortunate to witness an Avrahamic compassion. The Lubavitcher Rebbe made it his mission to reach every Jew worldwide, establishing over 4 000 Chabad Centers headed by enthusiastic young couples ready to sacrifice the luxuries of home in favor of building thriving Jewish communities in the remotest corners of Earth. Thanks to the Rebbe’s tireless efforts, a Jew may travel to any destination with the knowledge that he will be greeted by brothers and friends at the local Chabad House.

Just as it was for Ori and Shai, an Avrahamic tent of warmth and light awaits each Jew, no matter where he may find himself, thanks to the Rebbe’s tireless efforts.