The Power of Faith: The Remarkable Journey of Chaim Schmukler
- Philip Buenaflor
- Jan 17
- 3 min read

Chaim Schmukler was born into an Orthodox family in Philadelphia, where his father and grandfather were pillars of tradition and faith. But at the age of 14, his world was turned upside down—both of them passed away in the same year due to the Asian flu pandemic. The immense loss gradually distanced him from a life of Torah and mitzvot, leaving him searching for meaning without a strong spiritual anchor.
In 1967, as five Arab nations threatened to annihilate Israel, he felt an overwhelming urge to take action. He boarded the last flight to Israel before travel was halted, determined to contribute in any way he could. As a lieutenant in the U.S. Army, he hoped to serve in the Israeli military but was ultimately placed in a civilian role during the war.
While many in the U.S. feared for Israel’s survival, one voice stood out with unwavering confidence: The Lubavitcher Rebbe declared emphatically, “Israel is the safest place in the world.”

When Chaim arrived in Israel, he discovered that this wasn’t just a statement—it was a reality. A nation under existential threat stood firm, not in fear, but with a deep sense of purpose and absolute certainty in victory.
After the miraculous victory, Chaim visited the Western Wall for the first time. The site was vastly different from what we know today—sand and rubble covered the ground, and yellow ropes marked safe pathways amidst the lingering dangers of landmines.
As he stood there, lost in thought, a Chabad chassid approached him and offered to help him put on tefillin. Chaim hesitated, explaining that tefillin are typically worn in the morning. The chassid smiled and reassured him, “As long as the sun hasn’t set, you can still put them on.”

Chaim extended his arm, and the straps were wrapped around it. In that moment, he felt something powerful ignite within him—a deep connection to his Jewish identity, as if all the lost years were being reclaimed in one instant of holiness. From that day forward, he committed to putting on tefillin every single day, and he has kept that commitment ever since.
Upon returning to Philadelphia, he became involved with the local Chabad House under Rabbi Shemtov’s leadership. Later, he moved to Berkeley, California, where he fully embraced a life of Torah and mitzvot.
Then came the real test: his new job at a chemical plant offered a high salary but required him to stay late on Fridays. One Friday night, after arriving late to Chabad, Rabbi Chaim Drizin remarked on the importance of Shabbat. Chaim explained that he needed the job not only to support his family but also to help sustain the local Chabad House. The rabbi suggested, “Let’s ask the Rebbe.”
On Sunday, they sent a question through the Rebbe’s secretary, Rabbi Groner. The answer was clear and direct: “If the job requires violating Shabbat, you must leave immediately.”
The decision was anything but easy. Chaim knew he was giving up a secure source of income with no certainty about what lay ahead. He wrestled with the choice all of Monday, struggling with the implications of walking away from stability. Finally, in the evening, with firm resolve, he handed his resignation letter to his boss.

The very next day, a miracle unfolded.
A different chemical plant, one he had previously approached but declined because of the low salary, unexpectedly reached out to him. This time, they not only offered him the job, but with a salary significantly higher than what he had earned before. Even more astonishingly, when he explained that he needed to leave early on Fridays, the manager responded without hesitation: “Of course, no problem.”
Just as during the Six-Day War, when Israel not only secured victory but also expanded its borders with unwavering faith, Chaim, too, saw his path open before him in the most miraculous way when he placed his faith above all else.
His story is a living testament that when we fully trust in Hashem, the world aligns in ways beyond logic or reason.
Miracles are not just relics of the past—they happen every day for those willing to walk in faith.

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