He called for an appointment with his attorney. His family was experiencing difficulties. The appointment would be expensive, he knew. He hoped there would be an opening this week or at least next. But the secretary informed him that there was no opening for six weeks.
She called for an appointment with Ezer Mizion. Her family was experiencing difficulties. The appointment would not be expensive. There would be no cost at all. She hoped there would be an opening. The secretary assured her that they would make an opening for her regardless of schedule.
That is Ezer Mizion.
Staff would offer to stay overtime. A lunch break would be skipped. Somehow they would accommodate those who need them so desperately.
A Chanukah Happening was scheduled in Jerusalem and drivers were exceptionally busy transporting wheelchair-bound local cancer patients to the party plus food and equipment for the event in addition to the usual roster of clinic appointments for the disabled and elderly. But a call came in from the mother of a terminally ill child living in Beitar, miles and miles away from where the celebration was being held. “Would it all be possible…?” “Of course,” answered the coordinator. “Tell her to put on her prettiest dress and be waiting at the door. We’ll be there with bells on and we’ll make sure she arrives right on time.”
The phone rings and the caller can barely speak. It’s almost over. Their child has been battling cancer for such a long time and now the doctors say it’s a matter of hours. The battle is over. The Malach haMoves (Angel of Death) is hovering over his tiny head. She calls Ezer Mizion who has been at her side since the beginning. “Can you take us to say goodbye?” The schedule for transportation is tight. It had been set up the night before. But Ezer Mizion is not a lawyer’s office. “Of course,” the secretary responds, her tears blending with those of the mother. “When do you want to leave?” she hangs up the phone and begins her juggling act, soon creating space where none had been there before. An appointment is made at the convenience of the family with staff bending over backwards to provide every bit of comfort and support.
A light day for the transportation staff? There’s no such thing. When routine appointments for the elderly, the ill, the disabled leave a block of time, it is immediately filled by those whose situation creates a desperate need for a fun break.
A little boy but a great big monster. It’s name? Cancer. The parents will soon be flying abroad with him for treatment leaving the rest of the children to stay with relatives and friends. So hard for the children. So hard for the parents. But Ezer Mizion was there for them with a Family Day scheduled just for them. A trip to Netanya, where the ocean swallows up every care and worry, allowing only joy to enter its environs. They all piled into one of Ezer Mizion’s wheelchair-accessible vans and visited every fun spot. The driver accompanied them throughout their day, never once appearing to rush them. It was a day of memories to carry them through the upcoming difficult months.
Ezer Mizion. We’re there when it hurts.
