This Shabbat I spent at the hospital. I went there for a few specific people, including that lady I wrote about in my earlier post. But as it goes, you go to visit one person, but you soon find others who need your help. It happened to me twice this Shabbat. Once, it was when I was about to visit that lady, but then I heard shouts from another room. I went to the other room and saw a 60-70 year old woman, very very thin and frail, very sweet looking. She was trying to get out of the bed, and she was screaming that they should let her out. I put my hand on her shoulder, smiled at her, looked her in the eyes, and asked her how she was doing. She looked at me, and poured her heart. I explained to her that I am not allowed to take her out, that the doctor does not permit that, but that I'll stay with her for a little while. Does she need water, tea, anything? I gave her my hand, she was clinging to it. And I started singing to her a song we sing on Shabbat night about the angels, Shalom Aleichem. She calmed down gradually, she lay down with her whole body on the mattress, and stopped trying to climb out. I felt it was soothing for her. Then I switched to other songs, some Jerusalem songs, some Bach melody, and the melody of the lonely shepherd. We do not play instruments on Shabbat, so my voice cords were my instrument, and it was not so bad. When I sang the Bach and lonely shepherd melodies, she said: "what a beautiful song!", and throughout this singing session she took my hand, brought it to her face and kissed it. Even though it is a bit uncomfortable for me to have my hand kissed by a stranger, and a patient at that, I let her. We were looking at each other, and I felt she was calming down. She no longer wanted to climb out and she was no longer shouting. Soon, as she was laying on her back, she closed her eyes, and fell asleep. I stayed there, singing those songs to her, until I thought she was fast asleep, and I left. The next day when I went there, she was totally calm and peaceful, and I felt so grateful for it. She no longer needed me.
Interestingly, that next day (which was actually today), someone else in her room was screaming. I went there to see who it was and if I can do something to help. It was an 81 year old lady. She had only two teeth in her mouth, and she seemed like she was not completely "there", mentally. She was shouting and screaming. I went there, smiled at her, put my hand on her shoulder in a reassuring gesture, held her hand, looked her deeply in the eyes, smiled a shining, optimistic smile to make her feel like everything is OK. She couldn't talk, so I just held her hands, squeezed them affectionately. She then squeezed my hands back. We stood there, squeezing each other's hands, looking at each other. I then sang for her as well. She surprised me so much when she managed to say Todah Rabbah. I was shocked that she could say that. She repeated it a few times. Then I sang to her a song about Yerushalaim, Jerusalem. And she said "shel Zahab" (yes, with a b instead of a v). It was so nice, so sweet. I realized that she was completely with me, even thought she couldn't communicate verbally so much, but she was communicating emotionally. She took my hand, brought it close to her face, and kissed it, many times. Again, I didn't object, even though it's not something I feel comfortable with, as I wrote above. It was funny and interesting that it was almost like a replay of what had happened a day earlier with her neighbor to the same room (their beds are not adjacent - there was a third woman between them, so it's not like she was immitating the first woman. It really came from her heart). I stayed there for two hours, squeezing her hands, caressing her head, letting her drink her liquid meal, singing to her, looking at her with a smile. It was hypnotizing, and I think both of us were hypnotized. It was hard to leave her. I saw a tear rolling on her cheek. Only one tear. Was it really a tear, or a result of her drinking her liquid meal? I don't know. But there was so much warmth and gratitude in her gaze as she was looking in my eyes and saying Todah Rabbah. After two or so hours, I felt it was time to go. She didn't let me. She held my hand very strongly. So I stayed. I tried to leave a few times again, until she finally released her grip of my hand. I waved goodbye, and she waved back. I blew a kiss in the air, and she did the same, I repeated it a few times, and she did too. It was so gratifying to see her like this. I hope that she would stay calm like this for a long long time. Both of these woman are childless and have no family, so I learned later. Both of them are originally from Morocco (which may explain the hand kissing? I wonder). Both of them have a very sweet, delicate soul, I could see it. I feel so privileged to be able to be there on the right time. It made my going to the hospital this shabbat worth while. I feel like I went there especially for them, even though I didn't know them before.
I wish the hospitals would be filled with volunteers. People there, especially old ones, need it so badly. I wish people knew it. I wish it would be something that everyone does from time to time. You get so much satisfaction from doing this. It's like your life is becoming full of meaning, you feel like you're doing something that is needed, and it is so great. I wish these stories would inspire people to go and do the same in their countries. I want to remember these stories and to never forget them. Knowing myself, I'll probably rush forward and leave these memories behind. I only hope it would inspire people to do the same - do as much as you can to make this world a better place!
Sunday, January 26, 2020
Thursday, January 23, 2020
Some rainy days
I'm sorry that I don't write more often, especially now that we read the beautiful Parshahs (Torah Portions) of Genesis and Exodus. These Portions give me so much food for thought, and I feel I could write about them every day, and find something new and interesting to write about them without tiring. They are so rich and deep and colorful. But I do not write. Knowing myself, I'll probably write more often during the technical Portions of Leviticus... with all the rules of sacrifices, to which I feel less affinity at this moment in time. But maybe I won't. We'll see.
I must say to my defense that I do not waste my time idly, most of the time, though. So when I do not write, I do other meaningful things, and I'm very happy with it, and feel a sense of inner peace and satisfaction. I'm busy, but with good things that make me float in the air and make my heart dance and sing and give me a sense of meaning, purpose and direction in life. Really, when you live a Torah-guided life, your life becomes so rich, so saturated with goodness, that no matter what happens with you personally, you feel life has meaning and purpose, and you find yourself engaged with so many good, meaningful things. Baruch HaShem.
Aside of that, something interesting happened to me in the professional realm. It's too early to talk about it, but it seems like it is something good. I prayed about it on Rosh HaShanah, not knowing how it was going to happen, and then it suddenly happened, like a ripe fruit that dropped into my hands from heaven. As I said, I can't say what it is at the moment, because it is not final yet, but I hope it will be soon. I'll just add that it is something that I always thought I should be doing, but didn't know how to get there, where to begin, etc. But then it kind of dropped into my lap recently. Kind of amazing. We'll see where it goes, and how. But even without knowing the answer to these questions, I feel like a whole new vista has just opened up in front of my eyes, I see a path, and I know what I have to do to walk it. And it makes me feel like it leads me to the right direction, to my right path professionally. It is an interesting feeling. I remember as a young traveler in Australia and New Zealand, I was often thinking about it hard, not knowing what to do, how to get there, and here, something happened to push me in the right direction and more importantly - to show me the way. Sounds dramatic, I know, and for me it really is. And yet, my eyes are lifted up to G-d, because even if this seems like something good to me - it may be so but it may be not. I can't know, and I keep praying that it is all for the best, and that no bad things will accompany it. It is His choice. If this thing will be final, I'll consider whether to write about it here or not. But at the moment, silence is the best policy for me.
Today was the 75th anniversary to the release of the Auschwitz death camp. Leaders from some 70 nations came to Jerusalem, to the Yad VaShem museum. Among them the German president, Frank Walter Steinmeier. To hear his speech, how he takes the blame and responsibility for the atrocities that his country-men committed. It was so moving. The whole scene reminded us here of the verses from Isaiah 60: 14-15, "And the sons of them that afflicted thee shall come bending unto thee, and all they that despised thee shall bow down at the soles of thy feet; and they shall call thee the city of the LORD, the Zion of the Holy One of Israel. Whereas thou hast been forsaken and hated, so that no man passed through thee, I will make thee an eternal excellency, a joy of many generations." The speeches were very moving and emotional. I liked Mike Pence's speech. But most of all, I liked Rabbi Lau's speech - a vision of peace, friendship, fraternity. Long ago I read his autobiography, "Out of the Depths" (in Hebrew: אל תשלח ידך אל הנער, or: "Do not raise your hand against the boy" - a title taken from a verse in the binding of Isaac). Recommended! If I find links to the speeches, I'll post them here.
In this respect, I'd like to tell of something interesting that happened to me about a week ago. I visited someone at the hospital. She's a woman in her 60's, and she is not someone I knew from before. I met her at the hospital for the first time. Despite her dire situation, you can see that she is a beautiful woman, and you can see by the light of her face that she is an intellectual, a person of books and thought. She was hospitalized for the flu, but this was the least of her problems. When I saw her, she was lying in bed, half naked. I had to close my eyes so as not to see, and cover her with eyes closed, to keep her dignity. But she kept trying to uncover herself. She was holding her head with her hands and periodically screaming. Then she became silent, then she did the same thing again, and again, and again. Despite her obvious psychiatric problems, you could still see who she used to be - a dignified, beautiful, super bright person, a serious person who had a lot to say and give to the world. It was astonishing to see someone like her in such a situation, where she literally lost her mind.
She was very agitated, and screaming from anguish, without words. I didn't know what to do. I held her hands in mine, and sang to her with a very soft voice, to soothe her. I sang to her Jerusalem of Gold and other Jerusalem songs. It calmed her down a bit. Then I sang a different song, and she screamed. She said that this other song makes her feel bad. These were the first words I heard from her. So I realized she could speak. I asked her which song she'd like to hear. She told me "Lu Yehi" (לו יהי; may all our wishes come true). I sang it to her, and then other songs of this genre. It calmed her down a bit. Then she screamed again, with less intensity. It suddenly dawned on me: what I was seeing was a woman reliving the horrors of the holocaust. Just as it was clear to me that she was an intellectual even before she uttered one word, and despite her dishevelled state, so it was clear to me that her situation has to do with the holocaust. But she's too young, she wasn't even born yet during WWII. So it must be the second-generation syndrome. I asked her gently where were her parents born. Instead of answering: "Poland", "Russia", "Germany", etc., like everyone else does, she gave me an answer that said it all. She said: "They came from evil Europe". I've never heard anyone else ever answer this question like this, and it confirmed my suspicion that what she experiences are some after-shock waves of the holocaust, that many second-generation people experience. I asked her what does she experience when she screams like this. She said that she feels an inexplicable, horrifying sense of fear and dread. To her it was inexplicable. To me it was so obvious. Her husband later told me that her mother survived Auschwitz. I asked her if she was a professor of Hebrew literature or something. I had such an intuition about her. She shouted at me: "מה פתאום!" (meaning: what?? no way!!). But then it turned out that she was a teacher of Hebrew literature and bible studies in high schools. I wasn't that far off in my guess. I got to see who she was despite her current situation. I'm so sad for her. I hope to visit her soon, and once she stabilizes, I wonder if I may be able to help her with some technology. We'll see. But anyway, the evil that the Nazis and their collaborators performed did not end with their victims. It continues on to the next generation, and the next, and the next.
Every bad thing we do has repercussions till the end of time. But so does every good thing that we do. And if we repent the bad we did, G-d will supply the opportunities for us to fix it, to correct it. Say, if a person murdered someone, and really repented it from the bottom of his heart, then perhaps G-d would allow that person to save the life of another person, to do good instead of the bad he did. I think if you truly repent, you get a second chance. One more favorable possibility is that from the bad that you did, something good will come about, like in the story of Joseph and his brothers - they did something wrong, but thanks to that, something really good happened and Joseph was able to save lives. And yes, the brothers did repent.
Anyway, that woman's husband was not in the hospital room when I first got in. When he came in, it was when I was singing to her while she and I were holding hand. He was so moved. I hope it gives him hope and strength. He seems like a good person and is really devoted to her.
I feel like I should return to writing about the Torah. There's just so much in there, and I feel that there are so many people who write, great rabbis, and who am I, and what do I have to say that is meaningful to others, not just to myself. It's like Torah is so great, and I sometimes feel undeserved of its greatness to write about it. But I should. We each have our share in the Torah.
I started loving my apartment, liking it more and more. The turning point was that Shabbat in which a friend of mine from abroad came here. It was so nice to be able to host again, and it made me feel better about this place. Made it feel more like mine, more like home. And now I think I really like this place.
That friend who stayed here for Shabbat is not Jewish, but she is fascinated with Judaism. We went together to the synagogue, and experienced Shabbat together. It was really nice. The rest of the day we rested, ate, sat and talked. As a child she had atopic dermatitis, a skin condition that strikes young children. Even when they grow up, you can still see on their skin that something is different. It suddenly dawned on me that she was probably an atopic dermatitis kid. I felt comfortable enough asking her, and she confirmed. She told me of all the troubles, the allergies, the skin irritations she experienced. It was very difficult. So many things for healthy people to be grateful for - that we feel comfortable in our own skins... I visited a special hotel for Jewish kids with atopic in Switzerland (Davos) about three years ago, and witnessed the suffering of those kids, how they scratch their faces, their eyelids are bleeding from scratching, even their hair is affected. It was unbearable to see. And the sorrow of the parents, the embarrassment when people stare at their child, and the frustration and anger and humiliation when people give them unsolicited advice without knowing what the child's condition is.
So many challenges in this life. Each person gets their share. And we all must think what we can do to benefit the world with everything we have, even with our troubles. When I know how to deal with trouble, I can be strong and offer support to others who are going through troubles. And it doesn't have to be exactly my kind of trouble. Any trouble.
It is raining outside, and in my apartment it is just great - you can hear the rain also on the roof and on the windows, and it's such a pure music. I love it. And the winds... wow. We've had such a dry, warm winter until December, and then all of a sudden so much rain, more rain than we've had in 51 years. Unbelievable. This, too, came after praying. Some people lost their lives in the ensuing floods, which is so so tragic. May it be only for the good from now on, not for any bad. We need the rain, the water, and we wish it would be all blessing, with nothing other than blessing in it.
Thank you for being here and reading. I wish you, wherever you are, a peaceful, sweet, restful shabbat.
Shabbat Shalom,
R.
I must say to my defense that I do not waste my time idly, most of the time, though. So when I do not write, I do other meaningful things, and I'm very happy with it, and feel a sense of inner peace and satisfaction. I'm busy, but with good things that make me float in the air and make my heart dance and sing and give me a sense of meaning, purpose and direction in life. Really, when you live a Torah-guided life, your life becomes so rich, so saturated with goodness, that no matter what happens with you personally, you feel life has meaning and purpose, and you find yourself engaged with so many good, meaningful things. Baruch HaShem.
Aside of that, something interesting happened to me in the professional realm. It's too early to talk about it, but it seems like it is something good. I prayed about it on Rosh HaShanah, not knowing how it was going to happen, and then it suddenly happened, like a ripe fruit that dropped into my hands from heaven. As I said, I can't say what it is at the moment, because it is not final yet, but I hope it will be soon. I'll just add that it is something that I always thought I should be doing, but didn't know how to get there, where to begin, etc. But then it kind of dropped into my lap recently. Kind of amazing. We'll see where it goes, and how. But even without knowing the answer to these questions, I feel like a whole new vista has just opened up in front of my eyes, I see a path, and I know what I have to do to walk it. And it makes me feel like it leads me to the right direction, to my right path professionally. It is an interesting feeling. I remember as a young traveler in Australia and New Zealand, I was often thinking about it hard, not knowing what to do, how to get there, and here, something happened to push me in the right direction and more importantly - to show me the way. Sounds dramatic, I know, and for me it really is. And yet, my eyes are lifted up to G-d, because even if this seems like something good to me - it may be so but it may be not. I can't know, and I keep praying that it is all for the best, and that no bad things will accompany it. It is His choice. If this thing will be final, I'll consider whether to write about it here or not. But at the moment, silence is the best policy for me.
Today was the 75th anniversary to the release of the Auschwitz death camp. Leaders from some 70 nations came to Jerusalem, to the Yad VaShem museum. Among them the German president, Frank Walter Steinmeier. To hear his speech, how he takes the blame and responsibility for the atrocities that his country-men committed. It was so moving. The whole scene reminded us here of the verses from Isaiah 60: 14-15, "And the sons of them that afflicted thee shall come bending unto thee, and all they that despised thee shall bow down at the soles of thy feet; and they shall call thee the city of the LORD, the Zion of the Holy One of Israel. Whereas thou hast been forsaken and hated, so that no man passed through thee, I will make thee an eternal excellency, a joy of many generations." The speeches were very moving and emotional. I liked Mike Pence's speech. But most of all, I liked Rabbi Lau's speech - a vision of peace, friendship, fraternity. Long ago I read his autobiography, "Out of the Depths" (in Hebrew: אל תשלח ידך אל הנער, or: "Do not raise your hand against the boy" - a title taken from a verse in the binding of Isaac). Recommended! If I find links to the speeches, I'll post them here.
In this respect, I'd like to tell of something interesting that happened to me about a week ago. I visited someone at the hospital. She's a woman in her 60's, and she is not someone I knew from before. I met her at the hospital for the first time. Despite her dire situation, you can see that she is a beautiful woman, and you can see by the light of her face that she is an intellectual, a person of books and thought. She was hospitalized for the flu, but this was the least of her problems. When I saw her, she was lying in bed, half naked. I had to close my eyes so as not to see, and cover her with eyes closed, to keep her dignity. But she kept trying to uncover herself. She was holding her head with her hands and periodically screaming. Then she became silent, then she did the same thing again, and again, and again. Despite her obvious psychiatric problems, you could still see who she used to be - a dignified, beautiful, super bright person, a serious person who had a lot to say and give to the world. It was astonishing to see someone like her in such a situation, where she literally lost her mind.
She was very agitated, and screaming from anguish, without words. I didn't know what to do. I held her hands in mine, and sang to her with a very soft voice, to soothe her. I sang to her Jerusalem of Gold and other Jerusalem songs. It calmed her down a bit. Then I sang a different song, and she screamed. She said that this other song makes her feel bad. These were the first words I heard from her. So I realized she could speak. I asked her which song she'd like to hear. She told me "Lu Yehi" (לו יהי; may all our wishes come true). I sang it to her, and then other songs of this genre. It calmed her down a bit. Then she screamed again, with less intensity. It suddenly dawned on me: what I was seeing was a woman reliving the horrors of the holocaust. Just as it was clear to me that she was an intellectual even before she uttered one word, and despite her dishevelled state, so it was clear to me that her situation has to do with the holocaust. But she's too young, she wasn't even born yet during WWII. So it must be the second-generation syndrome. I asked her gently where were her parents born. Instead of answering: "Poland", "Russia", "Germany", etc., like everyone else does, she gave me an answer that said it all. She said: "They came from evil Europe". I've never heard anyone else ever answer this question like this, and it confirmed my suspicion that what she experiences are some after-shock waves of the holocaust, that many second-generation people experience. I asked her what does she experience when she screams like this. She said that she feels an inexplicable, horrifying sense of fear and dread. To her it was inexplicable. To me it was so obvious. Her husband later told me that her mother survived Auschwitz. I asked her if she was a professor of Hebrew literature or something. I had such an intuition about her. She shouted at me: "מה פתאום!" (meaning: what?? no way!!). But then it turned out that she was a teacher of Hebrew literature and bible studies in high schools. I wasn't that far off in my guess. I got to see who she was despite her current situation. I'm so sad for her. I hope to visit her soon, and once she stabilizes, I wonder if I may be able to help her with some technology. We'll see. But anyway, the evil that the Nazis and their collaborators performed did not end with their victims. It continues on to the next generation, and the next, and the next.
Every bad thing we do has repercussions till the end of time. But so does every good thing that we do. And if we repent the bad we did, G-d will supply the opportunities for us to fix it, to correct it. Say, if a person murdered someone, and really repented it from the bottom of his heart, then perhaps G-d would allow that person to save the life of another person, to do good instead of the bad he did. I think if you truly repent, you get a second chance. One more favorable possibility is that from the bad that you did, something good will come about, like in the story of Joseph and his brothers - they did something wrong, but thanks to that, something really good happened and Joseph was able to save lives. And yes, the brothers did repent.
Anyway, that woman's husband was not in the hospital room when I first got in. When he came in, it was when I was singing to her while she and I were holding hand. He was so moved. I hope it gives him hope and strength. He seems like a good person and is really devoted to her.
I feel like I should return to writing about the Torah. There's just so much in there, and I feel that there are so many people who write, great rabbis, and who am I, and what do I have to say that is meaningful to others, not just to myself. It's like Torah is so great, and I sometimes feel undeserved of its greatness to write about it. But I should. We each have our share in the Torah.
I started loving my apartment, liking it more and more. The turning point was that Shabbat in which a friend of mine from abroad came here. It was so nice to be able to host again, and it made me feel better about this place. Made it feel more like mine, more like home. And now I think I really like this place.
That friend who stayed here for Shabbat is not Jewish, but she is fascinated with Judaism. We went together to the synagogue, and experienced Shabbat together. It was really nice. The rest of the day we rested, ate, sat and talked. As a child she had atopic dermatitis, a skin condition that strikes young children. Even when they grow up, you can still see on their skin that something is different. It suddenly dawned on me that she was probably an atopic dermatitis kid. I felt comfortable enough asking her, and she confirmed. She told me of all the troubles, the allergies, the skin irritations she experienced. It was very difficult. So many things for healthy people to be grateful for - that we feel comfortable in our own skins... I visited a special hotel for Jewish kids with atopic in Switzerland (Davos) about three years ago, and witnessed the suffering of those kids, how they scratch their faces, their eyelids are bleeding from scratching, even their hair is affected. It was unbearable to see. And the sorrow of the parents, the embarrassment when people stare at their child, and the frustration and anger and humiliation when people give them unsolicited advice without knowing what the child's condition is.
So many challenges in this life. Each person gets their share. And we all must think what we can do to benefit the world with everything we have, even with our troubles. When I know how to deal with trouble, I can be strong and offer support to others who are going through troubles. And it doesn't have to be exactly my kind of trouble. Any trouble.
It is raining outside, and in my apartment it is just great - you can hear the rain also on the roof and on the windows, and it's such a pure music. I love it. And the winds... wow. We've had such a dry, warm winter until December, and then all of a sudden so much rain, more rain than we've had in 51 years. Unbelievable. This, too, came after praying. Some people lost their lives in the ensuing floods, which is so so tragic. May it be only for the good from now on, not for any bad. We need the rain, the water, and we wish it would be all blessing, with nothing other than blessing in it.
Thank you for being here and reading. I wish you, wherever you are, a peaceful, sweet, restful shabbat.
Shabbat Shalom,
R.
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