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IN-DEPTH FEATURES
FICTION
When she found out she was about to die, she learned how to live...
Ruthy took in the sights with gusto. This was nearly the last
time in her life that she would see the blossoming dandelions
on the roadside. The words, "last time" assumed a dramatic
tone. Ruthy wondered how the world would look without her.
Within a moment, she reached the train station. Her work that
day had exhausted her more than usual. She seized a vacant
seat on the bench.
The metallic tone of the announcement burst forth from the
microphone, and its timbre glided over her head. Now she was
totally awake. The announcement pertained to her. The train
to the Kiryot would be ten minutes late. What a pity. Ruthy
had always tried to be on time to the twins' kindergarten.
From the day she had given birth to them, she had resolved to
protect them from life's hardships. Hashem was a witness to
her efforts. She had pledged to fulfill her resolutions at
all costs.
At the last minute, Ruthy succeeded in holding back the salty
swell that threatened to gush from her eyes. She hoped that
she would be able to control her tears until her final day,
and that the sounds of gleeful childhood laughter would
always resound in their home. She wouldn't ruin their
childhood days. They would have to cope with enough when she
was no longer with them. Ruthy was certain that the their
happy natures and easygoing temperaments would help the twins
adjust to life without her.
Ruthy apologized to the kindergarten teacher for coming late.
The teacher gave the woman, who was dressed in a tailored
suit, the once over.
"She's a lady who arouses respect," she mused to
herself. "You don't owe me an apology," she then said out
loud. "Anyway, I had to stay late in order to decorate the
kindergarten for the graduation party. Besides, I'm so happy
to meet you. It's a pleasure to have your little girls in the
kindergarten. They are two diamonds. I'm not exaggerating
when I say that their presence adorns my kindergarten. I hope
you'll be able to come to the party."
"When is it?"
"At ten in the morning, next Tuesday."
"That's a problem. I'll see what I can do. You see, I work in
the mornings."
The teacher nodded her head in understanding. Ruthy projected
authority combined with dignity. "I guess she's probably a
top-notch teacher in a lucky class," the kindergarten teacher
mused. "Were I a supervisor, I would promote her to the
position of principal. Her talent for chinuch is
reflected in the refined behavior of her two daughters, Tammy
and Deena."
On the way home, they passed a tree-lined avenue. Ruthy
strode in the shade of the trees, a twin at each of her sides
holding her hand.
"How was work?" Tammy asked. At first Ruthy was taken aback
by this innocent question. But then she smiled her loving
smile and stroked Tammy's blond hair which had been gathered
by a lovely barrette which matched the color of Tammy's
dress.
"Ima, are you tired?" Deena asked.
"Darling, I'm never too tired for you. Never."
"What did you make for lunch?" they both asked together. They
loved to be surprised each day by Ima's delicious lunches.
Every night, when the girls would go to sleep, Ruthy would
prepare the next day's meal without skipping a detail. She
didn't tell them how hard it had been the previous night to
stand in the kitchen and to prepare their food as usual.
Nothing in the world would ever be "as usual" for her. She
had been able to repress her crying the previous day. This
time she permitted herself to cry, because no one was beside
her in the kitchen. True, her husband Menachem was in the
front room, but when Menachem learned it was as if he wasn't
there. In order to enable him to continue to study without
any worry until the last moment, she had to cover her face
with the mask of routine.
From her wedding day, she had borne the burden without
complaining. She earned a good salary and Menachem still
pored over his studies as he had done when he was a yeshiva
bochur. His friends in kollel would jealously
eye the avreich who had no burdens, and who accepted
the yoke of Torah study. No one disputed the fact that
Menachem had found a wonderful eizer kenegdo.
In a valiant decision, Ruthy determined that she wouldn't
share any of her worries regarding the imminent calamity with
Menachem. She internalized. her feelings, fears and
foreboding thoughts "He has to study in peace," she repeated
to herself. "One daf gemora and another."
"They are also my dapim," she consoled herself during
her difficult hours.
"I'll never forget my conversation with Dr. Rottman [a senior
doctor in the Oncology Department]," Ruthy mused, and
immediately chuckled out loud as if she had heard a good
joke. Without realizing it, she was using terms like "I will
never forget," as if she had all the time in the world on her
hands.
She had made an appointment with Professor Rottman after
having undergone a series of very simple tests as part of a
follow-up prescribed by her family doctor, a very thorough
woman who had refused to forgo Ruthy's annual checkup. Its
results had revealed some suspicious findings which proved
that the doctor's insistence on such a checkup had been
correct. In order to support or to refute the findings, Ruthy
was sent for more tests in the hospital, after which she
found herself seated opposite the solemn doctor.
The results of the tests did not leave her with much hope.
Dr. Rottman lowered his eyes. In a broken voice, he told
Ruthy that she might have missed the boat. He explained at
length what had occurred in her body and spoke about the
possibility of an operation. He himself didn't pin much hopes
on the operation. There was absolutely no optimism in his
voice.
Ruthy was in the room physically. But her body was hollow.
Her soul seemed to have flown out of it. The doctor's words
coasted in the void, skipping over her ears. No explanations
could have helped when the doctor himself had despaired.
Three red lights flickered in her mind when he spoke. On each
respective light the names Menachem, Tammy and Deena
glimmered — names which were her entire world, names of
those who were destined to live without her. She wondered how
that world would look after she had departed it. The red
lights flickered and her head swam with warning sirens. She
shook her head, but the sirens continued to wail even more
intensely.
Dr. Rottman was terrifyingly practical. He gave Ruthy a
tranquilizer and a cup of water. Ruthy didn't argue with him.
Like a small and obedient child, she swallowed the pill. The
flickering lights dimmed and then went out. Slowly, the
irritating sirens were silenced and the doctor's words
invaded the silence which had prevailed in her head.
He said that she wouldn't live more than three months, but
from his expression it seemed as if even this had been an
overly generous allotment. The doctor at that moment seemed
to Ruthy like the director of a manpower agency who was
announcing a cutback that would go into effect within three
more months, or perhaps before that.
The man in the white coat mentioned treatments, but with the
very same breath added that he was nearly certain that they
wouldn't curb the illness which had spread in her body, but
would only ease her suffering. Ruthy doubted the benefit she
and her family would derive from her spending her final days
in hopeless pursuits and she consulted a rov before deciding
how to proceed.
Her sole concern during those difficult moments was the fact
that she was a mother of twins and the wife of a talmid
chochom and had to do her utmost to discharge her mission
in life faithfully. She couldn't stop her pursuit in life, no
matter how much time she had left to live.
Ruthy knew that from that moment on, she was living on
borrowed time. She knew that she had an important role in the
play called life and that the play had to go on.
Ruthy walked out the doctor's room, straight into the sunny
courtyard. Green foliage climbed the walls of the Hematology
Department, hiding the suffering of its patients. She found
it difficult to inhale. Her breaths were sporadic. Ruthy
paused and leaned on the green wall, trying to calm down.
People came and went and didn't seem as if their worlds had
caved in. Apparently, the human spirit is strong as flint.
People get used to the worst situations, she concluded, and
for her family's sake, so would she. "Death itself is
nothing," she consoled herself. "It is like moving from one
apartment to another. A person of a lofty spiritual stature
chooses a nicer apartment each time he moves."
*
She squeezed the rag with all her might. After that she dried
the marble floor one last time. The result was satisfactory.
Nava Einhorn peeked out from the kitchen and smiled at her.
Nava was holding the three-month old baby in her arms. "What
would I do without my devoted household helper," Nava
mused.
During the past few days, the helper had made all out efforts
to complete her work in half the time, so that she would be
able to help Nava in other tasks too. Nava saw all this. The
helper didn't ask for a raise, even though she performed jobs
she hadn't been asked to do.
Thanks to her, there was a warm pot of soup on the stove. A
light cake was in the refrigerator, and the baby's laundry
gave off a pleasant fragrance and was neatly folded. When
Nava thanked her for her efforts, the helper would offer an
explanation which included a broad philosophy of life: "Nava,
consider the joys of combining a mitzvah with receiving
payment for it. Isn't that wonderful?" she would say.
Nava Einhorn clutched her helper with all her might, and
thought that she was the greatest. The helper had originally
worked for Nava three times a week and since the birth, she
had added on another morning, forgoing her day off which fell
on Fridays.
Twice a week, she worked for the Friedman family. It was hard
to clean the Friedmans' home, even if she would have worked
there every day. The house always looked as if it had never
been cleaned. In any event, the Friedmans couldn't have
allowed themselves to take in help more than two times a
week, and the helper did her best to keep the house orderly
under the existing conditions.
Nava fell asleep on the sofa. In the small crib beside her, a
satisfied infant slept. A pleasant aroma filled the kitchen.
The helper closed the main gas valve. Then, taking her
shoulder bag, which included her clothing, she headed toward
the washroom. She had to hurry. Nonetheless, she took another
minute and left Nava a note which read: "Nava'le. There's
freshly squeezed orange juice in the pitcher. The grapes in
the refrigerator are washed. I think the soup needs more
salt. The stuffed cabbage is fleishig. I minced the
remainder of yesterday's chicken. Enjoy! "
She walked down the stairs of the building. Outside, the sun
beat mercilessly. It was a typical Israeli summer day.
Suddenly, she felt weak. Nonetheless, her steps were
confident and quick. In her heart she felt a deep sense of
satisfaction. She knew that she was fulfilling her task
faithfully from all aspects, and that Hashem would repay her
for her efforts — if not in this world than in Olom
Habo.
She had no complaints against Shomayim. Every Jew comes to
this world to fulfill some sort of a mission. In truth, she
had completed her studies in seminary with excellent grades,
and had passed the course for medical secretaries with flying
colors, but hadn't found a position in teaching or as a
medical secretary. But she would constantly tell herself that
it was forbidden to sit idly by without an income.
She had thought about accepting the offer to clean the
Johnson and Berland offices twice a week in the evenings,
since her mornings were taken up. The owners of the office
promised her a good salary and the offer appealed to her. The
family's expenses had grown, and this opportunity would
enable her to expand the income column in relation to the
expenditures one. But she had to weigh the issue seriously.
After all, a tired mother isn't exactly the most efficient
one.
When she neared her neighborhood, she laughed to herself. She
realized that she had not considered the truly important
aspects of the problem when she had wondered whether or not
to take on additional work. She had been comfortable focusing
on the marginal reasons, which shuffled on the sides of the
road of life.
After the first shock, Ruthy had no choice but to do some
penetrating soul-searching before making this vital decision.
Afterwards, when the earth would rotate without her presence,
it would be too late. Even now, it was a bit late. What are
two to three months in comparison with a twenty-eight year
old saga of life? She had surely made some fateful errors
throughout it, and had to rectify them as long as the candle
burned.
Her mother had taught her not to be spoiled or a softie. She
had often told her: "Whoever wants to survive, should prepare
a strong heart for the forthcoming travails." And indeed,
Ruthy had known how to endure life's struggles and hardships
bravely.
However, her mother had forgotten to teach her how a young
person who still wanted to live, should cope with imminent
death. True she was only twenty-eight, but she didn't want to
share her misfortune with her mother and she tried to paddle
to the main shore on her own strength. What counted most was
to eliminate the thorns which had grown, due to her own
errors in her life's corridor.
Being a through person, Ruthy took out a pen. She aired the
days of her youth on the screen of her mind. Then after much
mental effort to dig into her past, she unearthed two ugly
stains, which were represented by two names: Chava Ettinger
her classmate, and Menucha Tzeiger her teacher.
Would three months suffice her to rectify the terrible
injustices to them?
During the forthcoming nights, she had difficulty sleeping.
She found herself composing lyrical aphorisms which stemmed
from the depths of her heart, such as: "To savor a bit of
life before the curtain closes," "Death is the cost of life,"
"Old age is the ship which nears that shore." She was
still so young, and the twins and her husband so needed her.
"I am nearing hidden shores," she wept while she
wrote.
She had to worry about her dear ones. She had to find a
suitable arrangement for their future. Suddenly, she felt
like a free bird who soars to the heights. "The soul is
free from the prison of death. Only the body is doomed to
die," she wrote in smooth, round handwriting. "There
is no cause for sorrow. During his life, a person has to
teach himself how to die."
When she felt that she had found the right version, her pen
glided across the smooth page, and filled it with lines
"The ending line is the beginning one,
Despite the day of death.
The end of the lane on the narrow bridge,
Leads to a bright hall.
Before the curtain closes,
Remember where you belong,
Don't be one who sows wind and reaps a storm,
When the final whistle is blown.
*
Ruthy located Chava Ettinger with relative ease. However, she
didn't manage to find the teacher, Menucha Tzeiger.
Chava Ettinger still lived with her parents. She was the only
one in the class who hadn't married yet — and Ruthy
knew why. She was to blame. Without bad intentions, and in
the name of justice, Ruthy had ruined all of Chava's
shidduchim.
When asked about her friend, Ruthy would describe Chava's
personality without rounding the rough edges. She did this
each time someone called her about Chava. Ruthy never forgot
the arguments Chava had fomented in class. During their
school years, Chava was always against everything and against
everyone.
That was why Chava was still at home, growing older with her
parents. But now when Ruthy examined her past behavior, she
grew panicky. With her very own words, she had doomed Chava
to be an unwanted old maid.
During sleepless nights, Ruthy recalled Chava's other side:
Chava who was the first to offer help , Chava who knew how to
identify with others' simchas or sorrows.
Ruthy couldn't forgive herself for her one-sided view. But
she had no idea how she could rectify the tremendous
injustice. Now, no one asked Ruthy when they had a
shidduch for Chava — and perhaps no one offered
her any. Ruthy was terrified. The moonless nights of the
beginning of Elul proclaimed that the, "King is in the
field." But Ruthy knew that she had no mechiloh, even
if she were to wet all of the pages of the Siddur with
her tears.
The moon slowly filled out, bearing with it the message of
the Yomim Noraim. Ruthy prepared for her personal
Yomim Noraim. She listened to the sounds of her body,
to her breathing, to the onrush of her blood in her veins.
Her ears were attuned to the most delicate, barely audible
tones of the activities of her organs. These organs were
supposed to function in amazing harmony, if the worst of
decrees hadn't been befallen her.
Her entire body broadcast distress, and was plagued by tiny
pricks like those of Chinese needles. It was difficult for
her to locate the precise source of the distress. Perhaps the
pain was caused by the contraction of her lungs. Her palms
froze on a regular basis. Her feet grew heavy.
Were these symptoms the footfalls of Mal'ach Hamovess?
She looked him bravely in the eye. She was ready. All she had
to do was to erase two stains. While the men were filling the
dark streets on their way to Selichos, a brilliant
idea hit her.
Her brother, Zevik!
Why hadn't she thought of that before? Zevik was a quiet
young man — too quiet, and this attribute overcast his
talents. Zevik was nearly thirty-three and hadn't found his
mate yet. On dates, he remained silent most of the time and
didn't make much of an impression on the young ladies he met.
In the morning Ruthy called her mother, and told her about
Chava Ettinger, stressing Chava's good qualities. In a brief,
garbled sentence, she mentioned Chava's vivacious
personality, with all its ramifications.
"But that's exactly what our Zevik needs," Ruthy's mother
said excitedly.
The idea began to take shape. The plate was broken on
erev Rosh Hashonoh. Ruthy thanked Hashem for having
let her participate in that happy event. A month had passed,
and she had only thirty days to live.
Now she knew how to appreciate the relativity of time. With
her sixth sense, she knew that Shomayim would wait until she
had a clean slate. Now Ruthy prayed as she had never prayed
before. Suddenly the words of the prayers took on a deep
meaning, and she recited Modeh Ani in the morning,
Krias Shema al Hamittoh at night and Bircas
Hamozone, more intently than ever.
All the suffering had been worth it in order to reach the
hidden levels of life, she reflected. The world seemed
different to her now. She measured time in a different
manner. She examined events from a broader perspective, and
knew that she had to ascribe them more spiritual
dimensions.
Everyone profited as a result, and she even changed her
attitude toward her family. She had always been a devoted
mother and wife. But now she also understood why this was
necessary. People she knew sensed the difference in her, and
esteemed her many times over.
No one knew what was taking place in the stormy soul of the
young woman who was living with a stopwatch, except her
oldest sister Malka, the only one besides her husband with
whom Ruthy had shared her secret. The knowledge hadn't
detracted from Malka's esteem for her, and surely not from
her great love for her younger sister Ruthy.
Malka was childless. She had been married fifteen years, and
longed for a baby. When Ruthy planned the future which would
unfold after she had gone, she assigned Malka a chief role in
the next stage. Ruthy chose Malka as the surrogate mother for
the twins, after her petiroh.
"I am placing them in your hands," she told Malka. They cried
together, when they summarized all of the details and
comforted each other in a warm, mutual embrace. When the
tears dried, Ruthy still felt miserable. Yet she knew one
thing: Malka was the best choice. For a moment, Ruthy smiled
inside. Malka would care for the twins in the best manner
possible,
When she returned home that evening, she found Menachem
immersed in his studies. He didn't hear her enter and could
continue to study undisturbed. Now he wouldn't have to worry
about doing the laundry, mending, ironing, cooking, taking
the twins to kindergarten, and buying them uniforms. Malka
would take care of all these willingly.
Ruthy was delighted to see her brother Zevik so happy. After
the vort, when the excitement had died down, Ruthy
felt relieved. An ugly stain had been eradicated. Now she
approached the task of eliminating the second stain.
The secretary of the seminary knew what had happened to
Menucha Tzeiger. A few years ago she had moved to
Switzerland, in order to live beside her ailing father-in-
law. Until her dying day, Ruthy would never forget the moment
she had offended Menucha Tzeiger. "Until my dying
day," Ruthy now bitterly said. "That phrase is
suitable for regular people, at whose doorsteps the Angel of
Death isn't waiting."
Menucha Tzeiger had taught secular subjects. At that time
Ruthy was in eighth grade and was the head of the student
council. In that capacity, she volunteered to send a letter
to the supervisor, citing the complaints of many students
against Menucha: She doesn't explain the lesson clearly.
She comes late to class. She wastes a lot of time in empty
chatter and, worst of all, she doesn't prepare the
lesson.
Of course the letter caused a storm and the supervisory board
began to investigate the issue. At the end of the year, when
the school had to cut down on staff, Menucha Tzeiger was
among the dismissed teachers.
Ruthy found out that Menucha was the sole breadwinner in the
family only after the dismissal. Ruthy had cut off Menucha's
livelihood. Now Ruthy boldly decided that despite her
debilitating disease, she would go to Switzerland to beg
Menucha's forgiveness. A telephone call would not suffice.
She could go to Switzerland and come home in less than a day,
and there was no better time for such a deed than the days
between Rosh Hashonoh and Yom Kippur.
The following day, Ruthy had arranged her ticket and had left
the twins with Malka.
*
Nava Einhorn was tense. Her household help had notified her
that she would be absent for two days. Her helper had never
been absent before and Nava was afraid that her devoted
helper wasn't feeling well. She had heard her sigh while
washing the floor. But where would she find another helper
right before the yomim tovim?
For her this came as a blow — not only because she was
still weak after the birth, but also because she had grown
very attached to her helper and it would be hard for her to
adjust to someone else. She wanted to call the woman and ask
how she felt, but suddenly realized that she didn't know her
telephone number. All she knew was that her helper was named
Ruthy.
A moment before she boarded the plane, Ruthy's cell phone
rang. She answered it breathlessly. Someone who had presented
herself as a nurse in the hospital requested that she come to
Professor Rottman's office urgently.
In her heart, Ruthy scorned the term "urgently." After all,
Professor Rottman was only flesh and blood. The decree had
already been issued and what would more explanations and
instructions from him avail.
Dr. Rottman wouldn't tell her how to prepare for the final
day. For that purpose, she had Chazal's directive: "Return
the day before your death," would guide her. In a loud voice,
she asked the nurse when reception hours were the following
day, and made an appointment for 1 p.m. By then, she would
have already returned from Switzerland.
She didn't have difficulty locating Menucha Tzeiger's address
in Lugano. Menucha Tzeiger was stunned to see her. When she
was face-to-face with her former teacher the dam burst and,
in a voice which she didn't recognize as her own, Ruthy said:
"I have only a short while left on earth, and every passing
day draws me nearer to my end. I won't be able to close my
eyes forever until I hear you say `mochul loch'
— you are forgiven."
Menucha was very touched by Ruthy's effort to locate her. She
was overwhelmed by the fact that a woman who had already been
branded as terminally ill had taken the pains to come all the
way to Switzerland to beg forgiveness. She couldn't harden
her heart.
The scene which took place in the living room of Menucha's
father-in-law was heart-rending and dramatic. When life is on
the balance all barriers collapse, all anger is erased, all
injustices forgiven. They had a heart-to-heart talk which
lasted for two hours, after which Ruthy had to return to
Eretz Yisroel. With swollen and red eyes, the two
parted like long-time friends, whose relationship extended
way beyond that of teacher and student.
Menucha told her that she would help her as best as she
could, and promised to organize a special fund for Menachem
when he was alone. "My financial situation has improved a
lot," she promised Ruthy, nearly adding: "Your sister Malka
will tell me when the levaya is."
Spontaneously, Menucha accompanied Ruthy to the airport and
found it difficult to part with her former student. She
pitied her deeply and stood beside her on the long line. Over
and over again she marveled over Ruthy's inner spiritual
beauty which had surfaced during her final days. At last,
Ruthy's turn to board the plane arrived, and an unavoidable
parting accompanied by deep pain took place — a parting
which they expected would be forever.
Ruthy rested a bit after returning home. The alarm clock rang
without mercy. Ruthy jumped up quickly because she had an
appointment with Dr. Rottman that afternoon.
On her way, she passed scores of Succahs which had already
been built, and reflected on the temporality of her own life,
wondering whether that year she would merit to ask
Hakodosh Boruch Hu to strengthen the falling Succah of
Dovid Hamelech. When she finally reached the hospital, she
was greeted by a smiling Dr. Rottman.
Ruthy didn't know whether her imagination was playing games
with her — or whether the doctor's expression had truly
changed. The famed Dr. Rottman, a sought-after specialist in
his field, rose from his chair in her honor and then walked
over to her.
"Come in please," he warmly said. "Sit down. Would you like a
drink?"
Her heart fell, because that was how one greeted a person who
was making giant steps toward his end. One smiles at him and
offers him a cold drink in order to sweeten the bitter
pill.
However, the doctor had made a mistake on one point, she
thought with pride. The Ruthy who had come to him the first
time to hear a death decree was totally unlike the Ruthy who
was standing before him now, purged of sins, strong as a
rock, a Ruthy who knew how to confront the Mal'ach
Hamovess and to be the one who laughs last, because she
is prepared for the day of her petiroh.
She will return her pikodon to Hashem loyally. She is
sending a pure soul to the Heavenly Court. No one will
succeed in depressing her spirit. She won't let despair
overcome her, no matter how bitter the news the professor has
to relate.
"What? What is he saying?" Her hands trembled, despite
her desire to remain strong as a fortified wall. The words
hovered above her, stopping somehow beside her ears. Was
Professor Rottman begging her forgiveness? Why?
"Tell me that you aren't angry. All of us are flesh and
blood. I erred. Nu, why are you so quiet? I don't understand
you. You should be happy. But that's our lot as doctors. We
are already accustomed to that. Our patients always blame
us."
She persisted in her silence, her mind refusing to absorb the
news. It was too good to be true. Professor Rottman continued
to speak: "Call me after you've absorbed the news that you
will live. I want to hear you tell me that you understand our
distress as doctors. The repeat biopsy which we performed
revealed that you are healthy. Healthy! When we took the
first tests, the lab technicians were on strike and there
were a lot of mistakes. But what's the difference? The main
thing is that your problem is marginal and can be cured with
a simple treatment."
Ruthy dared to breathe.
Now she could stop counting backwards. The nightmare had
ended. The shores of death had retreated. She pronounced in
her mind the names of her dear ones lovingly. They were hers
until 120.
The doctor is surely waiting for my apology, she reflected.
Ruthy knew that she had to thank the man in the white cloak
for having changed her approach to life. On that dark and
grim day, when she had sat in his room, stunned, a few months
ago, she was born anew.
Without being aware of it, Professor Rottman had fashioned
her personality.
He couldn't understand that, despite his prestigious medical
degrees.
She only told him: "Dr. Rottman, you changed my entire
life."
But he of course interpreted the words on a literal level.
On the way home, Ruthy eyed the Succahs beside the homes. In
the end, she would merit to sit in a Succah that year too.
Now she better understood the meaning of the word temporary.
She realized that it encompassed the infinity of the life of
a believing Jew, which was as eternal as the Succah of Dovid
Hamelech, as everlasting as time.
Ruthy had learned how to die. Now she would also know how to
live, because the way still wasn't over.
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