Dating wasn’t easy for me. It took years of dating to find my kallah. Finally, I found the perfect girl. I proposed to her, and she said yes. It was a dream come true. That night, we would have the l’chaim.
I wore my best suit, a modest piece, and took the bus to the home of my aunt & uncle, who had agreed to host the simcha. Soon, everything was in place. The rain began to pour outside but my heart was full. This was the moment I’d always dreamed of.
However, after guests began to pour in, and ‘mazal tovs’ abounded, there was something missing: my parents. ‘Have you seen mommy & daddy?’ I asked my siblings. But they were at a loss.
‘They should have left already an hour ago,’ my sister said. Thunder rumbled, and I felt a pang of fear.
I checked my phone. 10 missed calls from my brother. That’s when I got the news.
My parents had been in a car full of supplies for the vort. The storm began and the roads were slippery. They rode along the highway, but the rain was so strong they didn’t see the truck veering out of control until it was too late. The brakes slammed, and their car skidded off the edge of the mountainside.
My younger siblings were in the car. None of them survived.
In the weeks that have followed, any savings my parents had have gone toward burying them, and finding a place for my remaining siblings to live. I have nothing to offer my kallah, no home to go to, no foundation for our future.
We applied for the Kupat Ha’Ir orphan wedding campaign, and were Baruch Hashem accepted. If the campaign can successfully raise the money here, we can get some help to start our new life.
This is my story, but there are 29 other orphans like me, each with their own story. We need your help to get married this month. Rav Chaim Kanievsky is helping us, and has written out a bracha for simcha in the home to all who donate. We are counting on you.
**The chassan in the story above is symbolic, not literal. Each of the 30 orphans has their own story of loss.