Part I
My children come running out of our building.
"Baruchim Habaim!" The Huma family is here!
It's the first time that our new daughter-in-law's (Mazel)
family are coming to our home to visit since our children's
wedding last month.
Tack, tack, tack, we hear tapping on the steps.
After the hugs and kisses, the greetings and compliments, we
push through the children crowded around the front door. Our
guests come in and we finally relax and sit down together.
Binyamin, Mazel's only brother, is being led, carefully of
course, by my children. Altogether they hold his hands and
lead him to the table, almost pushing him into the chair.
My oldest son, Kalman, (the newlywed) says, "Binyamin is not
a cripple! He's only blind. And he's seventeen years old
already! Let him sit down by himself."
The Huma family consists of Reuven, a wonderful Yemenite Jew,
and Surah, a lovely Syrian Jewess, and their two children
Mazel (who I'm blessed to have as part of my immediate
family) and Binyamin, Mazel's younger, and only brother.
Over the noise and excitement, I turn to Binyamin, "You know,
we play the cassette of you playing your electric organ and
singing at the wedding, over and over again. That was such a
beautiful song that you chose and, I have to say, it was
amazing watching your fingers fly over the keyboard like
that."
He puts his cane in the corner behind where he's seated and
says, "I learned music for four years, to the point that I
can now hear a song and after a few minutes I can play
it."
Do you play often?
"When I was younger I would practice for an hour or so every
day, but now that I'm in Yeshiva I only practice an hour or
so a week. But if there's something special, like a friend or
relative's bar mitzvah, I practice up to four hours a day. I
prepare so hard and I love it because I know it makes the
other person happy. It gives me so much pleasure to make
someone else happy."
As I serve the meal, my boys are waiting their turn in line
as Binyamin spreads his fingers lightly over my son Aaron's
face. Binyamin is blind from birth and this is his form of
seeing. Next is my youngest. He giggles as Binyamin feels his
glasses and ears. Next is Dovid. It's a novel experience to
have someone recognize you by the feel of your forehead or
nose! Then I watch in shock as Mazel gently takes my
youngest's glasses, puts them on, and goes down on one knee
to see if her brother will recognize her in disguise. We all
hold our breath. "Oh, Mazel!" Binyamin laughs as he touches
her ears.
The party overflows with good food, freshly baked cake, and
lots of animated energy. As I serve Binyamin, he first tells
me how wonderful all the food smells, then he asks what time
it is. We all know that he's NOT referring to the time, since
his talking watch says clearly the time at the press of a
button. We know that he's referring to where the food is on
his plate.
The chicken is at 12:00, the peas are at 3:00 and the mashed
potatoes are around 7:00, I say.
He does fine with eating, from then on.
After dessert, we adults sit at the table and chat. I excuse
myself to check on the children. There, in the playroom, my
children, along with Binyamin, are laughing so hard that
they're bent over holding their sides. I have to admit that
it takes me a minute to catch what's going on. Binyamin is
wearing my youngest son's glasses; a blind boy wearing
glasses. It looks so normal! Cute. It's good that they all
have a sense of humor.
Reuven and Surah met, married, and had their children in New
York. When Binyamin was nine years old, and Mazel one year
older, the family made aliya. Most of their family on
both sides live here in Israel, so it was natural for them to
make aliya. Reuven and Surah both speak Hebrew and
English in their home, so there was no problem for the
children to learn the language once they moved here to
Israel.
Binyamin told me at dinner, "Now that I'm seventeen and have
been living in Israel for the past eight years, I speak a
much richer Hebrew."
Soon Surah goes with Mazel and Shmuel to their apartment
nearby. Binyamin is going to sleep by us. My children begin a
game of checkers. One by one, they become tired, excuse
themselves, and go to bed.
My husband is learning with Reuven on the couch, our youngest
son's head on my husband's lap. Still sitting at the table,
Binyamin and I begin to talk. He's a lively young man, open
and direct.
Did you always go to a regular school?
"Always. I had one teacher that taught me English Braille
when I was in 1st grade. About a year later, while still in
America, a different teacher from Israel taught me Hebrew
Braille."
How do your friends and fellow schoolmates relate to you
reading from Braille books?
"Actually, I'm able to help them. For instance, when they
practice laining, I follow along with my Braille
Chumash and correct them when they make mistakes. They
appreciate that. I also help other, younger boys, with
Gemara. Usually we learn over the phone. It's a nice feeling
to help them."
These are boys from your school?
"Sometimes, but I'm also invited periodically to speak at
different schools for the children to meet a blind person.
The kids ask me questions and we have discussions. It's very
interesting. One school that I went to, the 7th grade boys
were so enthusiastic about my speaking that a few kept in
touch with me, especially during summer vacation. We would
talk and learn together over the phone. I really enjoyed this
very much. Not only does it feel good to help others but it's
an inspiration to me. I see these nice young boys that love
to learn...it shows me that I should improve!"
I hear an electronic voice say in English. "The time is 10:12
p.m."
One of my eyebrows rises.
He must sense my curiosity, because he begins telling me
about his watch.
"The teacher who taught me Braille was 95% blind. He had a
watch that you opened and felt the hands of the Braille
numbers 3, 6, 9, and 12. When we made aliyah, one of
my uncles gave me a watch like that as a gift, even though
they're expensive. Within three days it was broken! You have
to touch it very gently. We had it fixed and I use it just
for Shabbos. For weekdays, my family gave me my talking
watch. It tells you the time, the date, and has four alarm
clocks as well."
It speaks in English.
"Yes. There are Hebrew-speaking watches but they're cheap and
break easily. Mine is nice also since it's a 24-hour watch
which is a big advantage. A twelve-hour watch will say one
o'clock but I won't know if it's day or night. I would like
it if it said the year and which day of the week it is as
well."
What are your favorite aromas?
I like being in a supermarket. There's a lot of nice smells
there! I love being near a bakery and I love the smell of
pizza."
Why am I not surprised?
What other things do you enjoy doing?
"I enjoy listening to music. I love Chassidishe
niggunim. I like the warmth of the music. I also
frequently listen to Torah tapes."
What about physical activities?
"This summer, after my seventeenth birthday, my Rav told me I
should learn how to swim so I took swimming lessons. I enjoy
it very much. I go swimming three times a week for three
hours at a time.
"I also have electronic games that I enjoy once in awhile
such as anagrams — taking a word and rearranging the
letters to make other words. For instance the word 'practice'
has the word 'ice' and 'tip'. There are memory-challenging
games too. The electronic game will say four words in a row
then ask me to type in the second and fourth word. The list
increases, getting harder and harder. I like stretching my
mind like that."
What questions do people usually ask you?
"A lot of questions about Braille. For instance, Braille is
raised dots — each dot, or group of dots, being a
letter, sometimes an abbreviation. The machine that makes the
raised dots leaves an indentation on the backside of the page
and people think that the indentations can be read as well,
which they can't. Although nowadays they have newer
instruments that produce the Braille books so that dots are
made on both sides of a page. The miniscule hammer-like
instrument that makes the Braille dots works simultaneously
on both sides, being extremely slightly off from each other
so that the dots and indentations don't interfere with one
another.
"They ask about what books are available in Braille and are
amazed that all of Tanach and Shas are at my fingertips
— literally!"
Binyamin shows me his Braille Tehillim. It's large with
nothing to 'see' — just raised white dots on white
pages.
"Aside from the Braille letters themselves," Binyamin
continues, "and aside from the numbers, and punctuation,
Braille also has about 200 contractions, with more being
revised and added every few years. That's the English
Braille. The Hebrew Braille is more basic and doesn't have
contractions."
Do you have a preference for which language you
read?
"There are advantages to both. Since I'm in Yeshiva and I
study Torah most of the time, I read primarily in Hebrew. So
it has become the most natural for me. But reading and
writing in English is important for reading instructions for
electronic equipment, for example, or while speaking to a
doctor. Hebrew is basically only good for Israel. And the
truth is, there are times when a difficult word in the Gemara
comes up, and when it's explained to me in Hebrew I'll
understand 90%, let's say, but when it's explained to me in
English, since it's a completely different language, it'll be
explained more thoroughly and I actually often understand
better. In other words, when something's explained in English
(or any second language), it has to be explained better."
What does your father do here in Israel?
My father works for Mesillah, which stands for Machon
Lesifrei Yahadut Le'Adam Hamugbal, meaning: Judaica
literature for the handicapped person. Mesillah is located in
B'nei Brak. It's a Braille Torah library for only Torah
seforim and very good Jewish writing such as All
for the Boss and all of Chaim Walder books, which have
been translated into Braille. The founder of Mesilla, is
blind and very frum. He only has the best books
translated. Only the best."
Reuven comes and sits down next to his son, putting his arm
around Binyamin's shoulders. In his pleasant baritone he
tells me,
"You asked before about Binyamin learning in a regular
school. When Binyamin went to Pre 1-A he had an unbelievable
teacher!
[To be continued]
