While I Was on the Ventilator in Chicago…

By Refoel Yisroel Saacks – Chicago Illinois

I am one of those individuals that survived Covid-19 while on a ventilator. I was on a ventilator for about 18 days, and while it was a very unpleasant experience that I hope I never have to go through again, I learned some valuable lessons. The experience has taught me many things. The feeling of being part of a caring community, the Ahavas Yisroel and the assistance that my family received, were overwhelming.

Boruch Hashem, I have almost recovered. It has been a long, sometimes difficult and challenging journey for me, my wife and family. It has also been a challenging time not just for people in Chicago, but in every Jewish and secular community in the world. This is a global pandemic that has somehow touched every person.

The purpose of this article is to share an experience while I was on the ventilator. I am hoping this experience will encourage those that are afraid to give tzedaka in these tumultuous times. It is a story that I have shared several times in Chicago and has been received positively.

My ultimate hope is that by those that increase in giving tzedaka and those that begin giving charity because of this article that this awful and horrific pandemic can finally come to an end. I am not advocating for any charity or cause, I am simply doing what I told Hashem I would do.

To begin, I need to preface with a local policy. In Chicago, we have a ‘green card system’ and that system allows people from all over to come to Chicago and register with a local organization. The organization will verify their credentials, once verified the individuals are issued a green card. This enables one to solicit charity in the shuls and local community members.

In January or February of 2020, just prior to the start of the pandemic, I was in shul in the morning. I noticed at the entrance of the shul, many individuals holding green cards. I think there were about 7 or 8 of them. As a good community member, I always try and give one dollar to everyone. Usually, there are 2 or 3 a day and sometimes none. It varies and there is no set rule. I usually keep several bills in my talis bag and hand them out as I am approached.

On that day, I was approached 7 or 8 times, each one asking for a different reason – a bankruptcy, a wedding, a sick child, all with various heartbreaking stories. When the last one finally approached me, it was a different request than all the others. He said the words “tzedaka, tzedaka, tzedaka”. While it was different than all the others, I didn’t pay attention to it. I reached into my talis bag and realized I had given out my last bill. I made a gesture with my hands and he understood and moved on, but not before he stared at me, which seemed an eternity. While it was only for a few seconds, I didn’t think much of it.

Fast forward about a month and a half.

I am on the ventilator in NorthShore Glenbrook Hospital in Glenview, a suburb of Chicago. I dreamt that I was in Yerushalayim and I was walking down the street when I heard someone yell “tzedakah, tzedakah, tzedakah.” I turned and looked and it was the same person, the same stare and the same self-guilt. I reached into my pocket to give him some money only to realize I had no pockets. I was devastated. It was a painful feeling.

If it ended there, I wouldn’t have written this. I experienced that dream another 3 or 4 times, I don’t fully remember how many there were. On the 4th or 5th dream of the same occurrence, I remember standing in Yerushalayim and looking up to the sky and saying “Hashem, please make this stop, I will try much harder to give tzedakah and try to influence others, but make it stop.” That was the last dream.

I am now fulfilling my promise to share the message of giving tzedakah. Please give and give until it hurts – or before it hurts.

 

VIDEO: Hatzalah dispatcher in Chicago R’ Yisroel Saacks returns home