We can say it in numbers. 650,000 hot meals for family of seriously ill. 80,000 medical equipment loans. 4400 special needs children. Big numbers. Impressive, aren’t they? Or we can say it in people. Real people. People with feelings. People who cry.
People like the mother who had been looking forward to a delightful reunion with her family after birth until corona cancelled her plans. Diagnosis: positive. Tremendous tension. Will she be ok? Will she be able to care of the newborn? Will the newborn be ok? Quarantine. For the whole family. No preparations. No family to take her home. No exuberant welcome. No gleeful hodgepodge of a welcome-home supper put together by small, eager hands. No anticipation of Mommy soon taking over the kitchen providing that homey security that only mommies can do. No joy. Just anxiety, stress and worry. And then… on the heels of her entry – a warm delivery of 10 falafel portions. A message of caring and support for the difficult days to come. And the sun began to shine.
Continue reading Big Numbers Little Numbers
A delightful video appears in the Inbox of an Ezer Mizion staff member. A chubby one-year-old is giggling as he tries to ‘catch’ the ball. Mommy’s laughter joins his childish giggles. Hers is a laughter of joy, of gratitude, of wonder. At his birth there had been no laughter. At his birth there had only been shock, terror and an all-pervading sadness. In the body of the email are words of thanks to Ezer Mizion: Thank you so much for all the help over the 2 months my wife was in the hospital with our baby (medical referrals, food, hot meals, snacks, hospital volunteers, transportation, emotional support, more food and hot meals, etc. etc. etc…..).
It is now almost a year since our Shlomo was born when all the doctors said there was a basically 0% chance that he was going to survive. As you can see, he is such a cute, amazing miracle. I just wanted to show you some of the results of your efforts. It is so special – all the support and help you give people in their difficult times.
The staff member scrolls down and there’s another one. This one is from Penina. She remembers Penina. One of her volunteers. Continue reading Scrolling Down the Inbox