Hashem have mercy upon my soul. Here I lay dying in a foreign land. The hand of Hashem is heavy upon me. I tried only to do what was right. How can the Moshiach come from a dead man’s loins? There was no grain in our land. No grain in Beth-Lechem. The house of bread, yet His people starve. They said I was crazy. Torah forbids it, the Rebbe said. Our father Abraham, God rest his soul, did not do well in going to Egypt for food. The Moabites you know, they didn’t greet us with food or water when Hashem delivered us out of Egypt, blessed be His name. Why do you go to them for food? They didn’t give us food then, why are they going to give you food now. The Jewish people have no place in Moav. All this the Rebbe said, but what can a man do? I have a wife…My beautiful Naomi. Could I let her starve? Her of whom it is said the line of Moshiach will come? Any my two sons, Machalon and Chilion. How could I let them starve? Should a man not provide for his seed after him? Did not Moishe Rabinu receive of the ten, make weighty thy father and mother? Does a father not stand in the place of Hashem when the children are young? How can a father be honored when his own children have not even a barley grain to eat? But the Rebbe was right. The will of Hashem was not that I should come to this foreign land, and now here I die. I’ve asked my sons to bring my bones out of this land, just as Joseph’s sons did for him. In this way may they still honor their father, by bearing the weight of my bones out of this cursed land. I go to the True World now, may Hashem have mercy on my soul.