Breindy Herskowitz proves that no life challenge is too overwhelming when you choose positivity and emunah

I’m the ninth child from a warm family from Williamsburg. I was born early, weighing less than three pounds, and no one expected me to survive.

The Eibeshter had other plans, and I did survive, after months in and out of the hospital and a long time on a respirator. When the dust settled, I was diagnosed with cerebral palsy and the host of physical disabilities that it entails. I can’t feed myself, get dressed without help, open my siddur to the right page, or even control my limbs from flailing. Just about the only thing I can do without help is drive my electric wheelchair, which is broken as often as not.

Cognitively, though, I’m as smart as you! My speech is slow and not so clear, but if you stop to listen, you’ll hear my intact mind. Even though I’m so dependent on others for my physical needs, I grew up feeling alone. I had no friends, no one who could relate to who I was: a healthy mind trapped in a crippled body. I lived with Hashem. Even as a child, people tell me, I would turn to Hashem and say, “Please help me!”

School was hard. I started out in public school until I was able to transfer to a regular Bais Yaakov, but I still felt alone. I was tiny and spastic, and the other girls didn’t always realize there was a sharp mind and actual neshamah in there. I had no one to confide in; locked-up feelings are like a bubble ready to burst, and sometimes it did. I would sob and sob out my feelings of loneliness and fear. I spoke to Hashem, because you never have to be embarrassed in front of Him.

Get it in writing:

Written with Shaindy Perl, My Life on Wheels, tells my story and shares some of the lessons I learned along the way. I like to think the ideas apply to any challenge, not just CP.

The Breindyism that sums it up:

You can’t choose the life you get; you can only choose your attitude.