Lying in a hospital bed, who couldn’t use a little musical pickup?

We'll Be Back to Dance 

I was once working in the studio with Avraham Fried when he suggested that we do a mitzvah and visit a young soldier who was injured in Gaza. His name was Lt. Aharon Karov, and he was a newlywed, religious commander who had been critically injured and was hospitalized in Beilinson hospital in Petach Tikvah. The doctors had very little hope that he would recover. We were met by Aharon’s mother, and we stood near his bed and started to sing. As we are both Kohanim, we sang “Yesimcha Elokim… yevarechecha Hashem…” As we sang, Aharon’s eyes blinked repeatedly. “We’ll be back to dance with him, b’ezras Hashem,” we told his mother. Indeed, Aharon defied the doctors’ gloomy predictions and became a walking medical miracle. Thanks to Hashem, he came back to life. And danced.

— Musical Director Yuval Stupel

Who Wouldn’t Want to Go Home?       

I remember one young boy whom I visited in Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in Manhattan. He had traveled with his parents from Eretz Yisrael for treatment. Obviously it was very difficult for them — to endure their child’s illness and to farm out a large family of children and leave them behind for close to a month.

When I first came, I asked the mother what I should sing, and she suggested my “Hamalach.” The next time, I happened to be in the room when the doctor came in with good news: The boy could leave the hospital. The parents were so excited that they could return home, but the boy was upset — it seemed so strange. Who doesn’t want to go home?

The mother took me aside and explained in broken English that she understood why her son wanted to stay in the hospital. Their apartment in Eretz Yisrael was tiny and cramped. Her little boy shared a bed, while some of his siblings slept on mattresses in the kitchen. Here in the hospital, he had his own room, with a big white hospital bed and a remote control to raise and lower it. He had a button to press for the nurse to bring him drinks. Unaware of how ill he was, he felt like he was an honored guest in a hotel…

I have never been able to forget that little boy — and the lesson about how much we take for granted.

— Singer and bandleader Shloime Dachs

Driven to Simchah

Here in Toronto, we have a “Simcha Squad” that goes out almost every day to the hospitals and to private homes to cheer up cholim. Many people are involved, both professional and hobbyist musicians, and the credit for tying it all together goes to Feivi Mund.

I once got a call at 11:45 p.m. from the mother of a sick child. Her husband, she said, had not left his bedroom for several days. I called a local askan and my cousin who plays guitar, and we decided to go over together and give him some music. I’d never met this man before, but I introduced myself and said “I’m feeling a little dry tonight, let’s get b’simchah with some music.” The man objected because his kids were sleeping and we couldn’t wake them, so we got back into the car — with him — and drove around playing music for 45 minutes. The roof was coming off the car… he went from being lifeless to moving and jumping up and down.

Next day, the wife sent me a text, He went to shul, dressed the kids, on way to office.

— Singer Shlomo Simcha

 (Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 783)