About a month ago, at six o'clock p.m., Meir B., an eleven-
year-old boy, finished his studies at the Erloi Cheder in
Bnei Brak and began walking home.
At home a book was waiting for him, which was bought as a
prize for good behavior. But Meir did not arrive home that
day and also did not read the book. A car hit him at a
crosswalk with tremendous force.
A Hatzolah car arrived at the scene, and a quick glance told
the whole story. Blood flowed from the boy's ears, indicating
brain damage. The intensity of the blood flow seemed to
indicate severe injury.
The child was quickly taken to the hospital. His parents, who
came immediately, were told that his chances of survival were
minimal and in any case they could expect measurable brain
damage.
The parents did what every other chareidi person would do.
They quickly turned to gedolim and admorim,
pleading that they bless their son and daven for
him. At the same time they turned to their friends and
acquaintances requesting that they say Tehillim for
his recovery.
Twenty-four hours passed and the child was unconscious. He
showed no signs of life. Comprehensive tests were taken and
at one point one of the doctors came out and notified the
father sadly that there was irreversible brain damage. In any
case it seemed clear that the child would never return to his
former state.
The poor father didn't know what to do with himself, when
suddenly the mother arrived and said happily that she got a
blessing and a promise from rabbonim and admorim that
all the decrees were completely nullified and her son would
be healthy and complete.
The father was silent, and the doctor told the mother that it
would be better for her not to be led on by illusions, and
that she should get used to dealing with a child who is
irreversibly brain damaged.
The mother turned her back on that doctor and said, "I don't
even want to hear what you have to say. I do not want you to
take away my emunah. I have emunas chachomim
and they told me that my son will be healthy. I am going
to sit beside him until he gets up."
And she did just that. "The boy showed no sign of life," she
related afterwards. "At first the respirator breathed for
him. Afterwards he breathed on his own, but without relating
to the environment at all."
According to the instructions of one of the rabbonim, the
mother spoke to the child constantly, as though he could hear
her. "Do you hear Meir? You will recover. You must get up and
return to cheder, and besides we bought you a book and
you have to read it. In the meantime you may rest, but when
you have the strength, get up, because there is a lot to talk
about."
In this manner the mother spoke nonstop. She also said many
chapters of Tehillim and, most importantly, guarded
herself to be sure that no doubts entered her mind to shake
her belief in her son's complete recovery. The whole time she
said to herself, "The Rebbe said that he will be healthy. As
long as he doesn't say anything different, I am waiting."
Two full days passed. Friday night arrived, and the parents
conducted their Shabbos table at Meir's bedside. This was the
saddest Shabbos meal they had ever experienced. The other
children were home alone and the parents were in the hospital
in the intensive care unit with a child who was in critical
condition and his chances of returning to his former health
were minimal. But the mother repeated again and again the
blessings of the rabbonim and her complete faith that her
child would recover completely.
Night fell, the husband returned by foot to Bnei Brak and the
mother remained near her son's bed.
At two o'clock in the morning, as she was reciting
Tehillim, the boy suddenly woke up, opened his eyes,
stretched a bit and said to his mother, "Mommy, give me my
glasses."
A moment of shock.
"Wha. . . What do you need your glasses for?" asked the
mother.
"Because I have to read the book that you bought me as a
prize," replied the boy. The mother understood immediately
that her son's reply completely shattered the many doubts
concerning the degree that his brain and his memory will
function. She finds it hard to hold back her tears.
Five days later the boy was home, and two weeks ago, on
Wednesday, he went on his own to the Erloi Cheder where he
learns.
* * *
That Thursday I went to perform the mitzva of bikur cholim
and I discovered that there were no "cholim" to
visit. The boy was completely healthy without any signs of
damage, even outwardly, but nevertheless I had not come for
nothing. In the course of the visit I wrote down the words of
emunah expressed by Meir's mother. This time they were
spoken joyfully.
"Our son experienced one miracle after another. We saw Divine
Providence with our own eyes. But now I realize that miracles
happen to all of us all the time. It's just that everyone
considers them to be something natural and not miraculous.
After I saw my son -- who is normally lively and energetic --
lying unmoving and lifeless, I understood how much we have to
be grateful to Hashem who gives us the opportunity to open
our eyes in the morning, to breathe, to think, to speak, to
walk, to sit, and to remember. All these things that are so
obvious to us, are really miracles.
"The woman who held him until the Hatzolah came told
me that whoever was there was sure that those were the last
moments of the child, based on the force of the blow and the
blood streaming from his ears. A policeman came to my home to
take testimony. He related that when he came to the place of
the accident later, according to what he saw -- and he's seen
plenty of accidents in his life -- he didn't give Meir even a
one percent chance of survival.
"But I had emunah, and the blessing of the rav who
said "`Kavei el Hashem' -- if we will have a direct
line to Heaven without depending on others -- then `chazak
veya'ameitz libecho' -- your heart will be strengthened."
At the time, when I told this to my husband, the doctor tried
to pull me away from that crucial connection. During those
difficult moments it was not hard to do that. That is the
reason I went away and didn't want to hear her. I turned my
back and said, `You learned medicine, and I am learning
emunah and bitochon. '
"From that moment on I knew that if I wanted my son to
recover I had to do all the hishtadlus possible and to
keep a direct connection to Hashem.
"I had another promise: `What should a person do to protect
himself from the pains of the times of Moshiach? He should
busy himself with acts of kindness.' For twenty years I have
been volunteering at hospitals. I prayed to Hashem that in
the merit of my good deeds He should cure my son.
"Boruch Hashem he returned home and I see with my own
eyes how he is recovering more and more. Nes after
nes after nes. At the beginning of the week I
took him to have a Cat scan. Afterwards I took the pictures
out of the bag and I saw that the doctor had written: `A
clean brain, with no signs of bleeding or injury.'
"Now it's a month since the accident. My child goes to
cheder, thinks, speaks and even outwardly there is no sign
that anything ever happened. Despite my difficulty with this
story being in the newspaper I think that one must publicize
the miracle out of gratitude to HaKodosh Boruch Hu and
as a lesson to people; so that they should realize that every
single day HaKodosh Boruch Hu continuously performs
nissim for them and for their children."
* * *
At the end of my visit, the boy (Meir, "ba'al hanes")
shows me the Cat scan of his brain and suddenly he says,
"Hey, Mommy, look, you can see my payos very faintly
in the picture . . ."
"Ve'al nisecha shebechol yom imonu."
