We all have learned the words way back in primary grades. We heard the stories. We know it’s true. We know whatever Hashem does is for our good. But do we really know it? Inside, where it counts? Miriam A’H really did. Miriam fought the battle with cancer for five years. During that time she developed unbearable sores in her mouth. She called them diamonds. “Imagine having diamonds in your mouth. They’re sharp. They hurt. But how precious they are!”
If a miracle is defined as something above nature, Miriam was a walking miracle. Her difficulties began at age 25 after the birth of her third child when she received the news. Her response? “If Hashem wants me to live, I’ll live.” All of life is His will.” The disease spread. The pain was beyond endurance yet Miriam did endure it, strengthened by her deep understanding: “The pain is a gift to cleanse me of my sins.”
Ezer Mizion was privileged to provide assistance to this incredible young woman. Her family vied to stay with her during her hospital stays and it was Ezer Mizion’s Transportation Division that drove family members to and from the hospital. The Food Division provided hot, nutritious meals for those staying with her to enable them to give their all to someone they loved with all their heart. Very gently, oh so respectfully, as befits this angelic human being, its Ambulance Division transported Miriam herself for treatments. Ezer Mizion’s Guest Home for the Family, where fun and smiles abound at every corner, provided Story Hour, crafts, music, even a petting zoo, all run by trained therapists, enabling the family to eliminate travel for treatments and garner much emotional support. Help with the children, help with the housework, trips, retreats and fun days to give strength to a young family whose lives had been turned upside down …all these were part of the package offered to help them win the battle against that monster named Cancer that had entered their home.
But we lost.
Three days before her passing, she was discussing Hashem’s ways with a close friend. Her friend said that here in this world, it often appears to us that something is bad, is painful… like stitches that must be done so that we may heal. Miriam, felt otherwise. “No, it’s not like stitches. It’s like a whipped cream cake. A delicious cake delivered by a loving Father.”
The next night, she read her precious children a story, said Shma (bedtime prayer) with them and tucked them in for the last time. Her condition deteriorated after that and the doctor recommended sedation. “How long will the sedation last,” she asked. “Maybe forever,” she was told. In complete control, she asked forgiveness of her father over the phone since he, a Kohen, was unable to be with her in the hospital. She wrote letters to her children, asking her daughter to always dress in a modest manner, her sons to continue to learn Torah with all their heart and to always know that she loves them and is watching over them all. She wrote a list of items she had borrowed that had to be returned to neighbors and then, like a daughter whose job was done, she said Shma and vidui (confession), asked her husband to be sure she is covered properly after she falls asleep and to sing together with her ‘V’ani b’chasdecha batachti, …’ (a song of belief in Hashem)
