|
|
Home
and Family
Personal Miracles
by Adina Hershberg
For several years, I attended a Torah class in Har Nof,
Jerusalem. One time, the rebbetzin was talking about seeing
Hashem's hand in one's daily life; she was not talking about
the marvelous millions of miracles that occur daily, such as
the rising of the sun, the blossoming of the trees and the
intricate human body that is capable of performing so many
diverse tasks. She was talking about how some events recently
occurred to her, and how she clearly saw Hashem's hand. She
bade her audience to see Hashem's constant involvement in our
daily lives. She said that the more we acknowledge Hashem's
hand in daily events, the more He will reveal Himself to us.
Her words inspired me and I decided to look for Hashem's
guiding hand in my everyday life. As I opened my eyes and my
heart even more than previously, I found that little miracles
abounded in my life.
One morning, I made a mental note that I had to call several
people regarding various matters. On the way to the local
grocery store, I "ran" into each of them. Hashem knows how
pressed for time I am. He not only saved time for me, He also
reduced my phone bill. Another day, I needed to speak to a
neighbor who lives up the street. Usually, the only time I
see her is on Shabbat morning at shul. As I was busy
doing a myriad of household tasks, there was a knock on the
door. Chana had come to me! "Thank you, Hashem!" I thought to
myself.
It was erev Shabbos and we were to be hosting a family
for dinner. I hadn't baked a cake, because I planned to visit
my parents in Jerusalem, although I had checked and popped
popcorn. We also had grapes, but I thought that perhaps our
guests would expect cake. (I try to bake healthy desserts, so
a trip to the local grocery store would not produce such a
cake.) Later on, I took the younger children to visit Saba
and Savta. My parents never send us home empty-handed. What
did my mother have waiting on her dining room table for us
when we arrived? Honey cake and her special cookies.
Moreover, my parents had bought us several jars of gefilte
fish. How did they know that I needed a glass jar to grow my
sprouts in?
Some more small miracles from Hashem. This past summer, we
went to the United States for the first time in eleven years
for a Hershberg Family reunion. There were a bundle of
preparations to accomplish before flying. Not all of them
could be done (like laundry) because we were to fly the day
after Tisha B'Av. I made some calls to friends and relatives
during the weeks before the flight. I had in mind to call my
friend B. who has a child with a genetic disease. I wanted
her to know that I think of them. But by the morning of the
trip I had not squeezed in a call to B. and I felt badly. We
left for the airport.
When we were finally through security, I heard a voice
calling, "Adina! Adina!" Now back in my small hometown of
Kingston, Pennsylvania, there were no other Adinas. Any call
of "Adina" meant me. On the other hand, here in Israel
"Adina" being called does not mean that I am necessarily
being addressed. Even so, I turned towards the voice. It was
my friend B. "What are you doing here?" I asked. "I'm not
flying. My son is. We thought that you had left for the
States weeks ago," she said. "How did you manage to get
through security and come to the area where you need a
ticket?" I inquired. B. replied, "I noticed a woman
struggling with her luggage and with a baby in a baby
carriage. I helped her out, and security just let me
through." Hashem's hand was busy `scribbling' all over!
Sometimes, like today, I think to myself, "Okay, Hashem, how
will I see Your hand today? Last night, I dreamt about
someone and I'd like to tell her my dream. I also would like
to speak to M. who I just recently found out had donated one
of his kidneys to his father who had been on dialysis." Well,
I walked into the grocery store and who was at the check-out
counter? The woman I had dreamt about was there with her
toddler, and I told her about my dream. I did my shopping,
checked out and then took two bags over to my car which was
parked several minutes away. I came back to the store to get
the rest of my bags, and as I was bending down to pick them
up, in walked M. who had donated his kidney!
I have another story to tell. Rena Fineman was a newcomer to
my first grade class at my Hebrew Day School. She showed up
at school one day with a broken front tooth. She had fallen
getting off the bus to home. Soon after that, she appeared at
school with a silver cap over the broken tooth. We, in our
"sweetness" started calling her Sylvia because of the silver.
I remember another incident that occurred in the schoolyard
about which we teased and tormented her. When her father, a
rav, had a change in his job, the family moved away. She
certainly didn't have many good memories of her time in our
class.
One day this past Elul, I was thinking about a crisis that
had occurred with our youngest child when he was about two.
One Shabbos night, right before my eyes, he slipped on a
landing in our apartment building. He screamed and I rushed
to pick him up. For those of you who have unfortunately had a
child get hurt, and you're the first on the scene to help
him, you know the deep fear of not yet knowing just what
damage has occurred. Well, with my heart pumping hard and my
adrenalin racing, I picked Yisrael Meir up. He was a bloody
mess. Later we understood that he had knocked out his upper
two front teeth and swallowed them. It was a traumatic time
for all of us. While reliving this crisis once again in
September of 2004, all of a sudden it hit me. I thought back
to Rena Fineman to whom we had been so cruel. A tooth for a
tooth. I felt pangs of remorse. How could I have been so mean
to Rena? How could I ever be forgiven? I had no idea where in
the world Rena was living. I had no idea of her married name.
(I imagined that she had married.) I prayed with immense
concentration that Hashem allow me to cross paths with Rena
and receive her forgiveness . . .
For a number of years, Sulam, a network of nurseries and
other educational programs for religious Jewish children with
special needs, has held a fundraising event in Elul, which
includes speakers on topics of Jewish interest. The Sulam
evening was set for a Monday night. On Sunday night I
returned home late; a note from my husband awaited me.
"Chanan called to say that he is getting married tomorrow
night. He apologizes for not notifying us sooner, but he did
not have our mailing address. "Should I skip my date with my
close friend Shaina and not go to the Sulam evening? I
decided to go to the Sulam evening and send my husband to the
wedding. There was a slight chance that I would get over to
the wedding and say "mazel tov."
I got a ride with Sheina, who also picked up a friend,
Rachel. I took our things and moved over to locate our
reserved group tables #23-26. I pointed to chairs at table
#24, which was closest to the podium. Rachel wanted to sit at
#25. For some reason I said, "Let's sit here at #24." I put
down my things and said, "Hi, I'm Adina Hershberg; what are
your names?" The woman to my right said, "I'm Rena Donshik."
Another woman introduced herself. Sitting between the two of
them was an elderly woman. "What's your name?" I asked. She
said, "I'm Toby Fineman." The name seemed familiar, "Fineman
. . . Rabbi Fineman? Kingston, Pa.? Hebrew Day School? Rena
Fineman?" The woman sitting right next to me jumped up and
said, "I'm Rena Fineman!" Trembling I said, "I'm Adina
Sullum." I grabbed her arm and said, "I must speak with
you!"
I took Rena away from the table and told her that I had to
ask her for forgiveness for the nasty things I had said and
done when we were in school together. I also told her that
only two weeks earlier I had asked Hashem to find Rena for
me. Rena had no memory of my having called her Sylvia nor any
of the other cruel things my classmates and I had said and
done. (It is amazing how traumatic events can be buried deep
in the psyche.) Rena told me that she remembered falling as
she was getting off the school bus at her house. She had
received an "A" on a test and had been eager to share the
good news with her mother. She found it hard to believe that
I remembered her and her siblings.
Had Chanan sent us an invitation to his wedding in advance, I
probably would have sent in a contribution to Sulam, and
attended the wedding instead. Had Rena's mother not attended
the Sulam evening, I would never have known that Rena Donshik
was once Rena Fineman. Mulling over the Heavenly
orchestration makes me tingle every time I relate this story.
I feel so blessed to have received Rena's forgiveness in the
month of Elul. [Ed: Truly, one can see Hashem's hand in our
daily lives all the time, but one should not `play games'
with this idea, and should continue to proceed with living.
Hashem is certainly there, behind and in front, at all times.
Just don't take this idea too far and misinterpret things
that should not be misinterpreted. To somewhat paraphrase
Rashi: Don't make a big thing out of your bread falling on
the buttered — or the unbuttered — side. And
thank you, Adina, for sharing your experiences with the
readers.]
|
