“And those days will be remembered and done again in every generation, every family, every city, and these days of Purim won’t disappear from Jewish people and the memory of it won’t be forgotten from their descendants….” Megillah Esther

The Megillah Esther (Scroll of Esther) which is read on Purim describes an incredible reversal of the desperate situation of the Jewish people 3000 years ago in Persia, when there was a decree of annihilation of the Jews in that country. Through a seemingly natural, but in reality miraculous chain of events the situation of  the Jewish people changed from the verge of destruction to becoming victorious over their enemies, and the desperation of near defeat turned into joy and celebration. But the reason this Holiday will never disappear is that it is not only a story that happened a long time ago, but every year the same potentiality reveals itself during these days – the possibility of total reversal of any situation, no matter how desperate it is, through renewed desire for closeness with G-d, and through unity of the Jewish People. It exists for every Jewish person and Jewish Family, but it is being manifested most clearly when you make a decision of becoming part of Jewish Land and its people.

This is a story of a reversal that happened to us.

On March 3rd I broke my leg, after falling on volcanic mountain lookout area in the Golan Heights. Fortunately, I was with my son, who is an emergency room doctor, who examined my leg and said: “yes, you have a broken leg.”  The broken leg was set in Emergency Room in the Hospital in Tzfat, and I returned home in a cast and was told to return in a week to have it examined. After that followed a few difficult weeks of doctor visits and figuring out medical bureaucracy in Israel, but finally I was admitted for surgery to Ziv Hospital in Tzfat.

This is a regional, very busy hospital for much of Northern Israel. I was admitted Sunday for pre-op check-in, and scheduled for surgery on Monday, which meant that I had to fast from the previous night. It happened that on that day there was only one surgery room available, and my case was not considered as severe as some other cases that came through emergency room. In the evening it became known finally that the surgery would not happen that day. I was told that the surgery would definitely happen the next day – Tuesday….. unless there was an emergency. I fasted again, and waited most of Tuesday, until somebody came and told that there was an emergency – a big traffic accident that brought people to emergency room. NO surgery for me on Tuesday.

At this point I felt pretty low, not knowing whether they would take me the next day, the next week, or even the next month.  All hopes to be home before Purim were crushed. I was thinking “It will be the worst Purim of my life, stuck in the hospital, not knowing what will happen…”  We called all our friends who had experience with medical care in Israel and got  the following advice: 1) be loud and assertive 2) speak English 3) call the secretary of the head of the department. We did all three, to no apparent results. Eventually we had to accept the situation and just pray to Hashem…. 

Suddenly, everything changed. Late Tuesday afternoon the head of the department unexpectedly came to my hospital room with a surgeon. He told me “I know what it was like for you, but there will be a compensation: here is  my best surgeon, and he’s going to operate on your leg tomorrow at 3 pm.”   And of course I did not mind fasting next day, as it was the fast of Esther anyway- a Mitzvah. Exactly at 3pm on Wednesday I was rolled in to operating room.

I returned to my room, groggy from anesthesia on Purim eve. I opened my eyes and saw a young couple standing at the foot of my bed, the young woman and her husband wearing a red fez and a red robe, holding a Megillah scroll. They read the scroll to me and left, but soon after a group of young men came with instruments and songs, and then another group of people with Purim presents.

Next day, starting early in the morning,  there was a procession of visitors, friends and strangers, in funny and fancy Purim costumes, jokes, songs and laughter, and a lot of good food, so I was able to have my Purim feast in the Hospital. It turned out to be the best Purim I ever had. 

The frustration that I felt earlier in the week turned into appreciation of all the kindness that I experienced, including kindness of nurses and the hospital personnel. I was discharged Friday afternoon, just before Shabbos, with very little time to prepare for Shabbos, and when we returned home, we again were pleasantly surprised to find at our doorstep many packages piled high. When we opened them we found Challah, soup, chicken, meat, rice, kugels, deserts…

It’s nice to live in a Jewish country where miracles don’t “disappear from the Jewish people”…