Latest update: October 22nd, 2012
The one hundred and thirty children and young adults share two things. They are all Jewish, and they all contend daily with serious and debilitating illness. Many of them have done so all of their lives. You would think spending time with them would provide the ultimate mussar ride for Elul, an in-your-face confrontation with your own mortality, and the need to be grateful to God for life itself and the parts of it we take for granted.
You might think so, but you would be wrong. It’s not the ultimate ride at all. It may be the teeter-totter compared to the Montezuma’s Revenge of lessons you can garner from these kids.
In the three years he was supposed to be sitting in classrooms at Cardozo Law School, my son Ari – together with some valiant and dedicated partners – built up Kids of Courage, gradually offering larger and more exciting programs for young people who face challenges you don’t want to know about. They include the Jewish genetic diseases, as well as the alphabet soup of development gone awry – CP, MD, CR, etc. And of course, various cancers. Some conditions are so rare they have no names and no medical literature.
Armies are never better than their supply lines. When Kids of Courage moves, two lines move out with them, offering complex medical as well as logistical support. The sight of over a hundred kids, many in wheelchairs hooked up to elaborate apparatus, but all smothered with attention and love by their volunteer counselors (everyone – with the sole exception of a part-time secretary – in Kids of Courage is a volunteer) overwhelms the adults who meet up with them.
An entire continental jet couldn’t contain them all on the recent flight from Newark to Los Angeles that launched their expedition to the West Coast. Illusionist David Blaine turned up for the ride, and entertained en route. Nothing thereafter could curb their enthusiasm, or limit the Kiddush Hashem they made. Katie Couric sent a video crew, and CBS will be doing a segment on them. The Major League Baseball Network will be running clips about them for two weeks, taken from their appearance at an Angels game.
Returning from that game, the kids were taken, unannounced, to the block of Mann’s (Grauman’s) Chinese Theater where twelve Lamborghinis pulled in behind the buses, and their owners spent three hours hurtling them down Hollywood Boulevard. Tourists, expecting to be entertained by the over-the-top atmosphere of the Hollywood Walk of Fame, were instead enthralled by the sight of three hundred young people, led by identifiably frum counselors, singing and gyrating with a joy that has nothing to do with what is usually celebrated in LaLaLand. They stopped to watch and to photograph, as did the tourist buses. So did a media pool, resulting in clips of the event appearing on television stations across the country.
The Lamborghini owners were so impressed that when their tour of duty ended, they followed the buses to a Beverly Hills home for a barbecue, where Lakers legend AC Green presented “Oscars” to the kids, making each one feel like a superstar. (Green was a good choice as a supermensch – he’s clung to deeply religious values, maintaining them even when taunted by teammates.)
This was one day out of nine. Kids of Courage went to Disneyland, Knotts, Universal, a water park, Venice Beach, and spent a beautiful Shabbos with Shloime Daskal.
Wherever they went, they radiated enthusiasm, forcing it inexorably on those who witnessed it.
Those witnesses could easily have missed the real point. They didn’t see the transition. They couldn’t see that some of the kids were apprehensive on Day One, withdrawn, timid, quiet, and justifiably locked into their own problems and concerns as surely as their malfunctioning bodies held them captive. They couldn’t see that a day or two or three later, the same kids came alive with spirit and confidence. Disneyland didn’t do that. Carefully thought-through chesed, offered lovingly by counselors and staff after much deliberation and planning that was born of much experience, did that. This afforded them an opportunity to be as fully human as anyone else out there, sometimes for the first time in their lives.
About the Author: Rabbi Yitzchok Adlerstein is director of Interfaith Affairs of the Simon Wiesenthal Center in Los Angeles and the Sydney M Irmas adjunct chair, Jewish Law and Ethics, Loyola Law School.
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