The city of Nice lies on France's Mediterranean coast. In ordinary years it is a pleasant seaside resort, but during WWII it was flooded with refugees, many of them Jews, fleeing the Nazi war machine.

The Zrakloplin Hotel was occupied almost entirely by Jewish refugees. Despite the shortage of space, they set aside one room to serve as a Beis Midrash. Yaakov Moshe, the son of one of the local Rabbis, would often visit that Beis Midrash on Shabbos, happy to become acquainted with Jews from other regions.

One Shabbos afternoon, he noticed that while the entire congregation had sat down for the Shalosh Seudos meal, a person who he had not seen before remained standing by the window reciting Tehillim.

His countenance was dignified and his expression, calm. With intense concentration, but with no outward signs of emotion, he read King David's words of praise and supplication.

For several weeks the scene repeated itself. Yaakov Moshe would arrive at the Beis Midrash late Shabbos afternoon and watch the visitor's composed recitation of Tehillim. In a world turned topsy-turvy by violence and war, here was a man who remained tranquil. Apparently, he was also a refugee. Why else would he be in Nice? But he did not appear disturbed or flustered. On the contrary, he radiated the confidence and serenity that stems from inner peace.

Yaakov Moshe drew strength from watching him. After several weeks, he inquired about his identity and was told that the visitor was the son-in-law of the Lubavitcher Rebbe.