The home was permeated with sadness and the tears didn’t stop. A young father passed away, leaving a helpless widow to bring up her babies alone. Little Shmuly* would learn to read from a siddur and there would be no father to look on in pride. Bar Mitzvah’s, weddings with no smiling father at the head table. They searched desperately for a wisp of straw to hold onto. Something to give them a bit of comfort in their devastation. A family project for the elevation of his soul. A chessed to help others. Something that would save lives so that other families will not have to undergo such shattering pain. A decision was made and money was raised to purchase a much-needed defibrillator for an Ezer Mizion ambulance. The money was raised through generous donors, the paperwork taken care of, the defibrillator purchased and the file closed.
But the Heavenly file is never closed and He orchestrates every one of our steps. And so the story unfolds. Last week Nuta, an Ezer Mizion ambulance driver went on his daily rounds using the ambulance with the defibrillator purchased for the elevation of the soul of the young father. With list in hand, he stopped at the first noted address to bring a woman to the clinic for medical treatment. A standard, routine assignment. Wheel her into the ambulance, strap the wheelchair securely. Suddenly the assignment was no longer routine. “Urgent! Urgent!” His Hatzalah beeper beeped. “Cardiac arrest! Urgent! Urgent! Go to Rechov xxx Number xxx.” “ Go to??? That’s where I am!” Instructing the family to remain with the patient in the ambulance, he grabbed the defibrillator and raced upstairs. Seconds later there he was desperately working to save a life.
At the first possible moment, this powerful story of divine orchestration of the footsteps of man was relayed to the family of the deceased. Its impact became even more compelling as the story unfolds further. “You mean to say it happened today?! Today???! I can’t begin to tell you what this means to us. We…we…we have been crying all day. Today is his birthday. So many memories. He was such a good father. Such a good man. We talked of all the birthday presents we had given him. How appreciative he had been. And now, it seems, Hashem has sent us a birthday gift.” One by one, the tear-stained faces began to smile.
