These days, my thoughts keep on visiting a small corner in
my heart filled with pain for three young children, victims
of the bomb in Kfar Darom. They will be handicapped for
life; nothing will ever be the same. But who knows? Rather,
we do know! For all the pain, physical and emotional, social
and otherwise, they will probably be better, more sensitive
people, having to overcome so much. They will affect the
people all around them and will generate much respect for
the way they accept Hashem's decree, as their parents
already have.
R' Yisroel Salanter once said: The most whole thing is a
broken heart.
To give this an upbeat turn: The contents of a broken vessel
is so much more precious for being preserved therein.
We ask no questions, just take things as they come, and
know, deep down inside, that beyond our myopic vision, all
is for the best. Life is a bowl of cherries; some are sour,
all have pits. And the fruit - that remains for the World to
Come.
The following is an essay written by a former neighbor of
mine, born disabled, whose family moved to Canada, where she
could be provided with the best care, to give her the best
chance to cope with her handicap, which, we can see, she is
doing. The two essays speak for themselves.
"Everyone has a disability; it's up to them whether
it becomes a handicap or not" (Rabbi Fried).
Focusing on what we can do, rather than on what we can't do,
will ultimately be the thing that makes me feel happy and
fulfilled. We all have things we want to do, but are
impossible. For example: ever since I was a little kid, I
always wanted to be a dancer. Once I grew up a bit and
realized that at this stage in my life, I would not be able
to dance, I gave up this ambition and decided to focus on
something else that was more realistic -- acting. A person
must realize that she is not superhuman and she cannot do
everything. If one focuses on the good and not on the bad,
one will end up being as happy, if not more so, than if she
had done everything she wanted to do.
I was born a quadriplegic and am now a paraplegic. Believe
me, it's not much fun being a paraplegic. I can't run, jump,
dance and do a whole lot of other things that you would
consider necessary. So life seems bleak, doesn't it? There's
not much to do. I can't go to a lot of places, so what is
there to life?
When I was born, the doctors told my parents that I would be
a vegetable and that they should shut me away in an
institution. Now, looking at it from this point of view,
when things could've been so much worse, life seems much
cheerier, doesn't it? I have so much to be grateful for -- I
can talk, eat, write; I attend school and do other things
that count. And I have my family, since, Boruch Hashem, my
parents did not put me away in an institution.
Sometimes one doesn't have to do something to enjoy life;
just visualizing how life would have been if circumstances
had been different can give a person a very different,
positive perspective.
Although one must realize how lucky she is, it is still very
hard to do so when something goes wrong, especially when a
sequence of things go wrong, one after the other. One gets
the feeling of "Why do these things always happen to me?
Don't I deserve some happiness?" At this point and time, it
is very hard to look at the good, but later on, one realizes
that it was all bashert, divinely designed.
When I was younger, there was a group of girls who were very
mean to me and kept on calling me names. I was extremely
hurt, and still have a hard time forgetting it. Years later,
I realized they were just kids and I am now friends with
them. One day my younger brother came home from school and
said the boys were calling him names. Because of my own
experience, I was able to sympathize with him and comfort
him. It was right then that I realized why Hashem had given
me this particular test -- so that in the future I would be
able to help Meir, who was also very hurt when the same
thing happened to him.
A crisis either makes you or breaks you. If we sink into
despair when something goes wrong, we will always have a bad
attitude. But if we become stronger from it and realize that
there is a reason why this happened, we can become happier
and accomplish more in life from knowing that we have
overcome our problems and even helped others because of
it.
Of course, one of the most important things is a support
system. I would not be able to manage without my family and
good friends who are always there for me. They are the ones
who, when I am down in the dumps, are always willing to lend
an ear, or just simply cover up for me. They are the ones
who will defend me, and are willing to do anything in the
world for me. When I was in camp, my brace broke and I had
to daven in my wheelchair, even shmone esrei.
A girl stared at me, but my friend came to my defense. She
turned to her and asked, "Do you have a problem? Is
something wrong?"
Happiness is basically a lifestyle. It isn't just an emotion
one feels or expresses sometimes. It is a way of life, an
approach to living. "Who is rich? The one who is happy with
his lot." When you stop to appreciate how well off you are,
it changes the way you think, thereby effectively changing
the way you act. When something goes wrong and one does not
give up, and one becomes stronger from it, we are showing
our trust in Hashem - truly the greatest joy of all! You may
sometimes feel that no one understands you, that you have no
one to depend on, but if you think a little deeper, you will
realize how many people there really are there for you. This
leads to a certain satisfaction in life - something that
only comes from noticing the pleasant things in life and
trying to ignore whatever upsets and annoys you in life.
[We can only read this openmouthed, and marvel at the
spunk of one young girl -- and her mother, who believed in
miracles -- and all the Emuna, all the genuine happiness,
that she is able to spread all around her -- all the way to
Eretz Yisroel. Let us take a cue from her and LOOK for the
happiness in our own lives, our own situations, and be
thankful, so thankful, to Hashem!]
