Remember to make your list of what you are going to daven (pray) for this Purim
That which you ask on Purim goes not unanswered
and include the less fortunate in your
Mishloach Manos this Purim
[excerpts]
In middle of the winter, on a stormy day, the Katzs were separated from their second dream. And once again, the hospital blankets absorb her tears, and she hears all around her the high-pitched cries of tiny human beings. She is the only one in the maternity ward distraught and alone, without balloons, without chocolate. Without a baby.
Teves and Shevat pass in misery. Adar arrives. It's barely a year since they got married, and she has no energy for anything. What does she care about Adar? About Purim? What do costumes mean to her? She won't go to her grandparents this year. What would she do there, with all her cousins and their children. With their babies.
"Remember the pidyon haben costume?" Moshe Chaim asks her suddenly.
"Of course." But how does he remember it? When she spoke about it, it looked like didn't interest him in the least.
"I thought...maybe..." he stutters, "how much would such a costume have cost us if we'd make it from the most expensive materials?"
"From the best materials? Around two, three hundred shekel."
"Maybe, if we're not buying a costume for our baby," he says, "we should use that money to make other children happy on Purim?"
"OK, I'll find out who we can donate to," Shevi replies with no enthusiasm. Her neighbor upstairs, Miriam, volunteers in some chessed organization. She'll ask her.
When Miriam tells her about the chessed organization that she volunteers at, Shevy is in shock. She hears about terrible situations, about hungry children, about emotional neglect that leaves children scarred and endangers the next generation as well. Miriam tells her about the after school activities, about the soup kitchen for adults, and about the enormous range of activities before Purim.
When Shevi gets home, the telephone rings. It's from the doctor's office. There's something, ahh.... not clear about the last tests of Katz Bat Sheva and it would be good to come down to the office immediately.
And the heartbreak is awful, because these tests are a clear sign that the third dream blew up, just like the two previous ones.
[....]
And Moshe Chaim can find no words to comfort her. And can't find anyone who will comfort him. "Maybe we should give a donation to Chasdei Yosef," she suggest suddenly. "Miriam says that people see salvations."
Moshe Chaim is skeptical. "Maybe they see salvations in logical matters, but here, when the tests already show things, what will help to donate?"
"She says they see miraculous salvations. What do you care? Let's try."
"Fine," Moshe Chaim agrees. "Give a sum now, and promise that if everything is all right, despite these terrible test results, and we have a healthy baby, we'll donate more." He thought for a minute, not knowing what sum to specify. "The truth is, you can say whatever you want, even three thousand shekel, since we have no chance in any case..."
She makes a pledge. Not for three thousand shekel, but for a respectable sum. She brings a nice sum for the collection for that Purim, and promises to double it the next Purim - if and when. Afterwards, she makes a doctor's appointment.
[....]
A year later, in the beginning of Adar, Shevi goes to the office of Chasdei Yosef to pay off the amount she promised. She takes with her an infant, a cute baby several months old. This is the baby that the original tests showed would never be born at all. The baby of Chasdei Yosef. Shevi didn't pay over the phone by credit card, not did she send a check in the mail. She wanted to go by herself, and to bring along her baby. She takes him out of his stroller, hugs him tightly, and enters the soup kitchen.
Steam rises up from the kitchen. Shevi leans forward and presses her mouth to her baby's ears. She whispers a few words to him. No one hears what she said; it remains a secret between them. She gives a sizeable donation to Chasdei Yosef, as well as an incredible story - one of many....
In middle of the winter, on a stormy day, the Katzs were separated from their second dream. And once again, the hospital blankets absorb her tears, and she hears all around her the high-pitched cries of tiny human beings. She is the only one in the maternity ward distraught and alone, without balloons, without chocolate. Without a baby.
Teves and Shevat pass in misery. Adar arrives. It's barely a year since they got married, and she has no energy for anything. What does she care about Adar? About Purim? What do costumes mean to her? She won't go to her grandparents this year. What would she do there, with all her cousins and their children. With their babies.
"Remember the pidyon haben costume?" Moshe Chaim asks her suddenly.
"Of course." But how does he remember it? When she spoke about it, it looked like didn't interest him in the least.
"I thought...maybe..." he stutters, "how much would such a costume have cost us if we'd make it from the most expensive materials?"
"From the best materials? Around two, three hundred shekel."
"Maybe, if we're not buying a costume for our baby," he says, "we should use that money to make other children happy on Purim?"
"OK, I'll find out who we can donate to," Shevi replies with no enthusiasm. Her neighbor upstairs, Miriam, volunteers in some chessed organization. She'll ask her.
When Miriam tells her about the chessed organization that she volunteers at, Shevy is in shock. She hears about terrible situations, about hungry children, about emotional neglect that leaves children scarred and endangers the next generation as well. Miriam tells her about the after school activities, about the soup kitchen for adults, and about the enormous range of activities before Purim.
When Shevi gets home, the telephone rings. It's from the doctor's office. There's something, ahh.... not clear about the last tests of Katz Bat Sheva and it would be good to come down to the office immediately.
And the heartbreak is awful, because these tests are a clear sign that the third dream blew up, just like the two previous ones.
[....]
And Moshe Chaim can find no words to comfort her. And can't find anyone who will comfort him. "Maybe we should give a donation to Chasdei Yosef," she suggest suddenly. "Miriam says that people see salvations."
Moshe Chaim is skeptical. "Maybe they see salvations in logical matters, but here, when the tests already show things, what will help to donate?"
"She says they see miraculous salvations. What do you care? Let's try."
"Fine," Moshe Chaim agrees. "Give a sum now, and promise that if everything is all right, despite these terrible test results, and we have a healthy baby, we'll donate more." He thought for a minute, not knowing what sum to specify. "The truth is, you can say whatever you want, even three thousand shekel, since we have no chance in any case..."
She makes a pledge. Not for three thousand shekel, but for a respectable sum. She brings a nice sum for the collection for that Purim, and promises to double it the next Purim - if and when. Afterwards, she makes a doctor's appointment.
[....]
A year later, in the beginning of Adar, Shevi goes to the office of Chasdei Yosef to pay off the amount she promised. She takes with her an infant, a cute baby several months old. This is the baby that the original tests showed would never be born at all. The baby of Chasdei Yosef. Shevi didn't pay over the phone by credit card, not did she send a check in the mail. She wanted to go by herself, and to bring along her baby. She takes him out of his stroller, hugs him tightly, and enters the soup kitchen.
Steam rises up from the kitchen. Shevi leans forward and presses her mouth to her baby's ears. She whispers a few words to him. No one hears what she said; it remains a secret between them. She gives a sizeable donation to Chasdei Yosef, as well as an incredible story - one of many....
Donations from Abroad ......
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