Yisroel Meir joined the others of his Yeshiva as they filled out their forms and swabbed their cheeks. One by one, they handed in the completed registration and one by one they resumed their daily schedule, once more involved in the world of Abaye and Rava (Talmud).
Reb Meir Gershon was also not living in the world of Abaye and Rava. Nor was he in the world of Pesach (Passover)preparations. His preparations consisted of removing a few slices of Pita from his home. Period. No matter where he physically was, his being was in the hospital with his daughter. A monster named Cancer had taken hold of her with his powerful fangs and did not want to let go. The medical staff was aggressive in its battle. The goal was remission to allow for a stem cell transplant.
The curtains parted and light entered their lives. Plans for the transplant were underway. Then the unthinkable happened. The transplant was no longer needed. His daughter was no longer among the living.
“A young girl who passes away,” the bereft father said, “surely already completed her job and her full tikkun (fulfillment of life’s mission) because if she had more to accomplish, she surely would have lived longer.”
He did not allow himself to wallow in grief. He had a new goal: to do whatever possible to elevate his daughter’s soul.
“Slowly but surely, we had detached from the regular world.,’ says R’ Meir Gershon. ‘Others were engaged in light conversation, laughing together. It was an incomprehensible world to us. Bit by bit, the family began to tiptoe back into the world. Small things. Big things. The oldest daughter was of marriageable age and it was time to search for a chosson (husband). A young man named Yisroel Meir was chosen.
As the family began to heal, another family in the community was undergoing a crisis. Reb Aaron*’s wife was diagnosed with cancer and told a stem cell transplant was her only chance. Family members were tested but no DNA match emerged.
Shortly afterwards, the phone rang in Yisroel Meir’s home. “This is Ezer Mizion calling. You have been found to be a perfect match for a cancer patient. You have the opportunity to save a life.”
“I panicked,” recalls Yisroel Meir. “Is this like a kidney transplant? Is it dangerous? Will it hurt? Deep down, I just wished they would leave me alone. My new shver (father-in-law) told me about his daughter who was recently nifteres (passed away) He described how excited they had been to begin the search for a donor. ’It could have saved her life,’ he says, the tears welling up in his eyes. ‘But HKB’H (G-d) willed otherwise.’ I began to understand. I called Ezer Mizion and soon the phone rang in Reb Aryeh*’s home.
“The mechutanim, (in-laws) sent me a special cake in honor of the occasion. The cake expressed more than a thousand words their mixed feelings.
The transplant had succeeded. A meeting between the family of the donor and the family of the recipient was arranged.
Sitting together are R’ Aharon, whose family remained whole, R’ Meir Gershon, the father who lost a precious gem but encouraged a young man so that another family should not suffer and his son-in-law R’ Yisrael Meir, who connected them both.
