The cutest people live in Jerusalem. I am using the word
'cute' advisedly. My meaning is that the person is so special
that you could just pinch their cheek from happiness for
their existence. Boruch Hashem I meet them everywhere
I go.
One such cutey came into the dental clinic where I work, this
morning. She is middle-aged but not well at all. Sometimes
she dozes in the waiting room and often she is short of
breath. It is hard for her to get around and take care of her
business but she perseveres with a smile, radiating good
humor everywhere. As she was leaving, I noticed that she had
a baby stroller with her, so I asked, "Who did you bring with
you today?" I presumed that there was a small grandchild to
go with the carriage.
"Oh, no," said my patient, "this is my minibus." She went on
to explain that she uses the stroller as a combination walker
and shopping carriage. It gives her something to lean on,
while all of her packages, papers and purse are in the
carriage instead of weighing her down. I give her so much
credit for her ingenuity and also for that lack of false
pride. Most of us would be embarrassed to do such a thing.
But this wonderful lady was going about her business, not
asking for help, and smiling at her infirmities as she
wheeled out her minibus.
The girls in the Seminary have a chessed organization
which sends the girls out to help new mothers, elderly people
and the disabled. One of their clients is a blind lady with a
marvelous sense of humor. She sent the girls to the store to
buy her an ice pop and asked for a blue one. "I love the
color blue," she said. When they came back, they apologized
that the store only had red ones. "That's fine," she said. "I
also love the color red." Of course, she has no idea what red
or blue might be, and cannot appreciate them, but she jokes
about her disability and makes everyone love her instead of
seeking their pity.
My neighbor can barely walk from her house to her car. With
the aid of two canes, she needs about fifteen minutes to
slowly make her way straight out of the building to the
parking lot. There is obviously a great deal of pain involved
in each move she makes. But once she is behind the wheel, she
turns into a tiger. Recently, we were all invited to a
wedding. One of the former neighbors had moved out of town
and needed transportation if she was to join us at the
simcha. My disabled neighbor went a half hour's drive
out of her way to pick up the lady and bring her to the
wedding, something none of the rest of us healthy, able
people thought to do. I asked her what made her think of
doing such a thing and she said, "It's only a bit down the
road, and at least this is one mitzva I am able
do."
These people don't complain about their lot in life. They
don't waste time wondering what might have been if they were
healthier. They simply take life as it is, smile away their
misfortunes and look for ways to help others, to bring joy to
someone else. They are here, I think, to teach us to accept
infirmities b'simcha.
