An Only in Israel Story

My husband thinks I should write this story as if it happened to someone else. If I do that, though, it wouldn’t be a first-hand account. Many wouldn’t believe the story was really true. Not only is it true, I’m not exaggerating any of it.

It began on the morning of Zot Chanukah, the last day of the holiday, the day that I’ve heard the Chazon Ish said miracles are normal and the supernatural is natural. I was on my way to a routine doctor appointment at Hadassah Hospital. Due to various reasons I’d had to miss my scheduled appointment two months earlier. Instead of waiting a full year to reschedule I was driving to my miraculous new appointment.

As I left Shilo I was tense.  Twelve hours earlier there had been a drive-by shooting less than seven miles from my home. Seven people had been injured. One, Shira Yael Bat Liora Sara, who was seven-months pregnant, was in critical condition. Her baby was delivered by C-section and in the neo-natal preemie unit. The terrorists were still at large. As I passed the site of the attack I prayed for a miracle for Shira and her baby and a full recovery for the others.

Due to traffic, construction, and probably security alerts my normal hour drive to the hospital took twice as long. I reached the hospital’s parking lot with a quarter of an hour to spare before my appointment. I’d have time to catch my breath and be ready to see the doctor.

Except there wasn’t a free parking place to be had inside the whole lot. Others in the same situation were driving around waiting for someone to leave. I thought about doing the same thing but the clock was ticking away.

The guard suggested I try parking along the adjacent street and indeed, there were several parking places. The only problem was they were spaces for parallel parking and I’d never learned how to accomplish that feat.

The obvious question is how in the world did I get my driver’s license without understanding the science of parallel parking. I really don’t know the answer. Forty-nine years ago the officer who tested me only asked me to drive around the block. Since then I’ve avoided parallel parking at any cost. Now I didn’t have a choice.

Sadly, all the desire in the world could not let me get my car inside the space without blocking traffic. Rolling down the passenger window I stopped a young student walking to Hebrew University.

“Please,” I begged him, “can you park my car for me?”     

“No,” he refused.  “I don’t have insurance to drive your car.”

That was true but it was not on my list of top concerns. Being a kind soul, though, he offered to direct me. And he did. But I was a slow, awkward student. It was taking longer than either one of us would have liked and certainly longer than the passengers on the bus I was blocking wanted.

The bus driver rose to the occasion! Jumping off the bus, he stuck his hands inside my window and grabbed the steering wheel. Directing me when to press the accelerator and when the brake he had me parked in no time at all. Before I could say a proper thank you he was already back on his bus and driving off.

I made it to my appointment on time and, of course, waited ninety minutes to see the doctor. Thankfully, the visit went well but I was concerned how I would be able to get out of the parking spot. My worrying was for naught. Miraculously the car in front of me was gone. I was able to slide out without a problem and the way home went just as smoothly.

It had been a day full of little miracles for me. The biggest one, however, was that two Jews whom I’ve never seen before cared enough to try and help me. Granted the bus driver has a vested interest on getting me inside the parking place but he could have just honked and yelled and cursed and told me to get moving. Instead he parked my car without acting like a condescending chauvinist.  I’m very grateful.

As I write these words Shira Yael Bat Liora Sara is improving.  Her baby son, tragically, is in need of a major miracle. Please pray for them both. Please pray that there will be no more terror attacks. Not in Israel, not in France, not anywhere.   

Shira  Yael and her husband at happier times

After writing this, before posting it, I received the bitter news that the baby has died. Blessed be the perfect Judge. I am very sad. Please pray that his parents and family will be comforted among the mourners of Zion and know sorrow no more.