The Human Spirit: Lives full of Miracles
April 28, 2005
Our dinner guest introduced herself using a Hebrew name. The woman, among a half-dozen young people who came home with me from synagogue Friday evening, was obviously British. When we went around the Shabbat table for introductions she called herself Pnina. A graduate student at of one of England's most prestigious universities, she was studying philosophy, with an emphasis on logic.
But it wasn't logic, or even solidarity, that drew her to Jerusalem during the Palestinian terror war. In spite of the conflict she'd come looking for something to move and nourish her soul. She would be returning to her studies in England the following day. The question hung over the table: Had she found what she'd come for? So she told us her story.
"I felt more spiritual on this trip to Israel than I ever had before. I was sitting on the embankment near the Western Wall when I wondered what I could do to maintain that feeling when I went back to England. Of course, most of the people at the Wall were praying. 'Well, you can pray,' I thought to myself. But prayer had never really done much for me. Nonetheless, I walked down to the Kotel. I wasn't exactly asking for a sign from a heavenly power, but I thought I'd give it a try. "
"A large pile of prayer books was scattered over the table in the women's section. I didn't know exactly how one was different from the other. Nonetheless, I took a long time looking at them and choosing a book. A book with a white cover seemed to be calling me, so much so that I only wanted that particular book. I took it and stood at the Kotel."
"My Hebrew is basic, not enough to read the prayers easily, but I can manage the script and know some words. I decided to read the inscription. I struggled with the Hebrew. It said, "To Pnina, with love." She turned to the rest of us at the dinner table: "Now, I ask you, what do you make of that?"
What constitutes a miracle? The Red Sea opened for our pursued, trapped forefathers for just as long as it took them to cross, the seminal moment in the saga of our national liberation. When does God step in and direct traffic, and when do we have to do godly work on earth, whether or not we � or the laws of nature � get a Divine boost?
I ALSO found myself discussing miracles recently with a young woman named Rachaeli. I'd received an invitation to a sale from Rachaeli's friend Gila, who was selling Rachaeli's ceramics in Jerusalem.
Rachaeli grew up in the northern development town of Kiryat Shmona. In elementary school her eyesight began to fade. By age 14, despite the efforts of an international constellation of doctors, she was blind. Nonetheless, Rachaeli completed her matriculation and then graduated from Bar-Ilan's School of Social Work with a 96 average. But no one wanted to hire a blind social worker � not even a school for the blind in the north.
Rachaeli doesn't give up easily and so she decided to retrain. She applied to study physiotherapy and passed the difficult exams and interview. But both her parents had to stop working because of health problems and she didn't have the money to pay tuition. The National Insurance Institute, which had supported her through her degree in social work, explained that she wasn't eligible for financial support to start school all over again because, theoretically, she was employable.
Rachaeli wasn't seeking a hand-out. Instead she concentrated on making ceramics, creating dozens of bowls and cooking dishes. Gila offered coffee and gave change until, in a single afternoon, NIS 10,000 of the NIS 12,000 needed were collected. So next year, this young woman will be a fulltime student in a field she hopes will allow her to earn a living with dignity.
You might expect Rachaeli to be bitter about the blows life has dealt her, but she isn't. "My life has been full of miracles," she insists, recounting the many � from the time she prayed that someone she knew would be on the train to help her to the bathroom and suddenly heard a familiar voice, to having Gila sit down beside her on the first day of social work school.
There's that famous legend in midrash Exodus Rabba about the tribe of Reuben complaining to the tribe of Shimon all the way across the Red Sea, comparing it to the mud of the bricks back in Egypt. For them there was only mud; they couldn't see the miracle.
Miracles don't necessarily change us or make us fear and love God. But sometimes, as for Pnina, they can allow a person to find her voice in prayer.
Says Rachaeli, who has no earthly sight but who can see wonder: "When everything is good, you don't recognize the miracles around you. Sometimes it's not getting everything you want that allows you to appreciate everything you have."
