Rabbi Akiba was the greatest sage of his generation, but even he could not escape the anxieties of a father. The astrologers had warned him: his daughter was destined to die on her wedding night, bitten by a serpent.
Akiba said nothing to his daughter. He did not cancel the wedding. He did not lock her away. He trusted in God, but the dread never left him. The night of the wedding arrived, and the celebration was magnificent — music, dancing, feasting that lasted until dawn. Akiba watched his daughter from across the room, his heart pounding with each passing hour.
When the party ended, the bride retired to her chamber. Before going to sleep, she removed the ornamental pin from her hair and stuck it into a crack in the wall, as was her habit. She thought nothing of it. She fell asleep beside her new husband.
In the morning, when she pulled the pin from the wall, a dead serpent came with it. The pin had pierced straight through the snake's eye. It had been coiled in the wall, poised to strike, and her casual gesture had killed it before it could reach her.
Rabbi Akiba wept with relief. "What did you do last night," he asked his daughter, "that merited such divine protection?" She thought carefully. "During the feast," she said, "a beggar came to the door. Everyone was so busy celebrating that no one noticed him. I took my own portion of food and gave it to him." Akiba nodded. Charity, the Talmud teaches in Shabbat (f. 156), has the power to overturn even the decrees of the stars.