The Giver
The Life of Leah Chollak, the Woman Behind Ezer Mizion
Rebbetzin Leah Esther Chollak had only been married two months when her father suffered a serious stroke. This difficult situation became the catalyst for the birth of an organization providing medical assistance to patients all over Israel.
As Rebbetzin Leah’s husband, Rabbi Chananya Chollak, sat at his father-in-law’s side in various hospitals, he had occasion to observe the difficulties facing other patients’ families. He saw parents struggle to divide their time between hospitalized children and little ones at home, families at bedsides with no food to maintain their strength, and patients forced to rely on costly ambulances for their frequent hospital visits.
These and other challenges, intuited Reb Chollak, could be resolved with some careful coordination, some kindhearted individuals, and a little elbow grease. He began arranging for people to stay with hospital patients to give relatives a much-needed break. He invested in a van to transport kidney dialysis patients to and from the hospital for free. His wife Leah began bringing her home-cooked meals to the hospital. In 1979, from the modest Chollak home, the organization we now know as Ezer Mizion — Israel’s largest health support organization — was born.
And behind the scenes, Rebbetzin Leah Chollak a”h was the heart and soul of the nascent organization.
Humble Beginnings
“At first, we were living in a two-room apartment. That was where it all began,” Rabbi Chollak remembers during the shivah for Rebbetzin Leah. “Families of sick people and others who needed our help came to see us there. We didn’t have a shred of privacy. Leah would be sitting in the other room with five small children, trying to raise them with a sense of normalcy. And I would think to myself, ‘Master of the Universe, how is she able to do it all in this small apartment? She needs so much strength.’
Limited space and the critical nature of the work required Leah to keep all of the organization’s documents in precise order. “The ‘office’ in our home was a single cabinet where we kept the files and all the papers,” Rabbi Chollak continues. “The cabinet would be closed for Shabbos, and my righteous rebbetzin would light Shabbos candles on top of it. That cabinet held within it all the merits we had accumulated throughout the week.”
Even once the Chollaks moved to a larger apartment on Rechov Eshel Avraham — where Reb Chananya currently lives — Ezer Mizion still overtook their home.
Rabbi Chollak points to the wall, explaining, “Everything took place within these four walls; it was so small and cramped, packed with medical equipment people would come to borrow. And Leah welcomed everyone in as if they were her only children, and along with that, she took care of our family.”
More than a Job
The offices of Ezer Mizion are only a short distance away from the Chollak family’s home. In the medical consulting department on the sixth floor, Rebbetzin Chollak gave advice every day to the ill, handing out referrals and guidance, along with her unstinting encouragement and support. To her, this was more than just a job.
“Rebbetzin Leah always used to remind us of the motto of our department,” the other consultants in the office share. “We are not just medical consultants; we are the emotional support for people throughout their troubles.”
“The Rebbetzin would notice things that we would never see,” they continue. “She would say to us, ‘That lady looks dejected; she needs some encouragement.’ Then, in the middle of her busy schedule, she would suddenly find time to go to the beach with the woman to help her relax. She led a life of constant, endless activity.”
When a sick person had to be given the terrible news that his illness was incurable, Leah was chosen for the task. With her soft yet powerful words, she knew how to deliver that kind of news to a person without causing him to fall apart.
“We are trying to do it on our own, but we don’t know how,” the consultants lament. “Now there is no one to pass these discussions to.”
The Rebbetzin’s sensitivity and kindness extended to the people who worked in the building as well.
Tzipi Haltovsky, a medical consultant, relates, “I had the zchus of sitting next to Rebbetzin Leah for nine years. She wasn’t just my supervisor; I felt like she was a mother to me. It wasn’t mere coincidence that her name was Leah; she had such strong maternal instincts. Anyone younger than her felt that she was her mother. Older women felt as if she was their daughter — that is just how she took care of people. She didn’t give mussar; instead, she herself was a walking mussar sefer. It was enough to listen to her talk to make you realize that this is how an eved Hashem acts.
“Rebbetzin Chollak was also the social worker of the entire building,” Tzipi says. “We all used to ask her for advice. She came to every simchah, despite her packed daily schedule, because she knew that her mere presence brought joy to people.”
A Beacon of Chesed
Leah had the unique ability to make everyone feel special. “You’d see her talking with a woman on the phone, and the caller would think the conversation was the only thing the Rebbetzin had going on,” says Reb Chananya, “but at the same time, Leah would be cooking for Shabbos. There could also be five people waiting to speak with her, but no one felt deprived of her attention.”
Packed with constant guests, the Chollak home was always filled with activity, but especially so on Fridays. “I’d come home and find the house in the midst of Shabbos preparations,” recalls Reb Chananya. “Some of the guests would claim they were there to help, but they’d take a seat in the living room and ask for lunch, coffee, cake, a newspaper. Some would even ask to take a shower. Yet Leah gave them all whatever they needed.”
For one family that frequented the Chollak home, Rebbetzin Leah went far beyond the call of duty. New olim from Iran, both the father and the mother passed away shortly after moving to Israel. Before the mother died, she begged the Chollaks to take in her four children. Despite her large brood, Leah raised these four youngsters as her own — and when she passed away, they sat with the Chollaks in the shivah house.
Leah’s chesed wasn’t bound by the walls of her home. She’d go out of her way to help people with whatever they needed. “There was one woman with whom she used to go shopping. Another woman, she’d accompany to the dentist, to the medical clinic, and to bureaucratic offices, as if she was the woman’s personal aide.”
All Are Welcome
Leah’s life calling required an infinite supply of patience.
“She used to take care of unfortunate people every day, and do you know what she got in return?” asks Rabbi Chollak. “Shouts and insults. She had to be available for them at every moment. She went with them to take care of things at City Hall, she cooked lunch for them, and instead of thanking her, they complained.
“I often heard the people who ate here criticizing Leah to her face. ‘You call this food?’ they would say. ‘It needs more sugar, more salt!’ And she’d respond as if she were working for them for a salary. When I would comment about it, she’d say to me, ‘Why are you angry at them?’ And she would go on to explain how each of them was suffering so much, they deserved to be treated well.
“One of our regular visitors,” Rabbi Chollak recalls, “had a certain idiosyncrasy: He wouldn’t eat cake with sugar. It wasn’t that he wasn’t allowed to have it; it was simply an oddity of his. And he always complained. Once, when he found the cake a little bit sweet, he started to shout at us, ‘You promised me it was sugar free! How are you not embarrassed?
Leah, calm and composed, was able to soothe the man’s unwarranted anger. “Instead of throwing him out,” Reb Chananya expresses, “she began explaining to him that the sweetness came from an artificial sweetener, not from sugar.”
There was no one that Leah would not help if she could. Reb Chananya tells of a certain psychologically disturbed woman who lived on the street — no one dared approach her, yet Leah brought her into the Chollak house.
“She used to eat, sleep, and shower here. She was constantly making demands of us, as if she were in a hotel and had paid for her lodgings. ‘Cook this; do that,’ she’d say. And the worst part was that she herself was not clean, to put it mildly. My children cleaned off anything she’d touched after she left.”
“When I felt that it simply couldn’t go on anymore, my wife said to me, ‘In my life, I have never rejected anyone. She will not be the first one.’
Avoiding the Spotlight
“The thing that characterized the Rebbetzin more than anything else,” Reb Chananya relates, “was her tzniyus. She headed the medical consulting department of Ezer Mizion, but she never acted like the boss’s wife. Everything was so natural, run so quietly and modestly. She never tried to stand out.
“There was only one time she couldn’t withstand the temptation — she came with me to the president’s house when I received the Israel Prize for my life’s work. I felt it was proper for her to be with me; after all, the credit belonged to her as well. And she came.”
However, this event solidified Leah’s view about not attending ceremonies. “A photographer snapped a picture of her at the president’s house and sent us a copy. But when she received it, she decided that if she was going to be a subject for photographers, she wouldn’t come with me to public ceremonies anymore. There were many more times when we received awards, but she never came with me again.”
Final Decree
After a yearlong battle with illness, Rebbetzin Chollak’s office is now empty.
Last Yom Kippur, during viduy, Leah realized something wasn’t right when she felt pain after striking her chest. A series of comprehensive medical tests revealed unequivocal results — cancer.
“We went together to the doctors. They all knew her from her involvement in medical matters, and they knew that it would be impossible to mislead her. They told her the entire truth.” Reb Chananya’s voice is choked as he remembers those horrible days. “But her response was, ‘Yeshuas Hashem k’heref ayin — Hashem’s salvation comes in the blink of an eye. Let’s daven, and Hashem will help.
When news of her illness spread, Leah’s family, coworkers, and friends were anxious. “But she calmed everyone down,” says Rabbi Chollak. “She’d tell them, ‘Yes, I’ve been diagnosed with the machalah, but it’s not a big deal. We’ll daven, and Hashem will help us. It will be all right; yeshuas Hashem k’heref ayin. She even asked for a sign with those words to be hung over her seat in the Ezer Mizion office.
Leah underwent a difficult period of chemotherapy that weakened her severely, but she refused to slow down the pace of her activities. Even on her most difficult days, when she felt severely weakened from her treatments, she would go right back to work.
“Just a week ago, her condition took a turn for the worse,” Reb Chananya says. “She felt very ill, and she was hospitalized with an infection. She went into the hospital on Thursday, and she deteriorated very quickly. On Motzaei Shabbos, we sensed that she was no longer able to endure her suffering. Finally, on Sunday afternoon, she returned her pure, holy soul to its Creator.
“Who can understand Hashem’s calculations?” Reb Chananya concludes. “This is Hashem’s Will; Hashem is good to everyone, and His mercy is upon all of His creations.”
An Empire of Chesed
Ezer Mizion has come a long way in the 30-plus years since its inception. The eight portions of food that Rebbetzin Leah cooked for patient’s families has evolved into about 55,000 hot meals sent every month to various hospitals from Ezer Mizion’s Center for Hospital Services. Reb Chananya’s original transport van has become a fleet of 20 ambulances used to transport sick people and those with limited mobility to their destinations throughout the country. And the eight neighbors originally recruited to stay at the bedsides of hospitalized children have grown to over 14,000 dedicated volunteers involved in a broad range of varied volunteer services.
Ezer Mizion now has branches in 20 Israeli cities and helps 650,000 people a year. Services offered include support for families of cancer patients, summer camps for children with special needs, a blood bank and bone marrow registry, mental health services, provision of medical, rehabilitative or physiotherapeutic equipment, and a range of programming for seniors.
(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 367)
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