Stephen Shooster stairs maintaining separation from the men. The men, on the lower floor, would run the service, read from the Torah, chant the songs, and daven as they prayed fervently. The women followed, and everyone was rocking back and forth in a singsong fashion with great passion just as they were taught by our forefathers. It was the traditional way of prayer. But this day was different than most because the women were agitated as they prayed. I heard them crying, ‘Why God? Why can’t you let Chaja have a fam- ily? Why? Why? Why? Followed by, Please, forgive us, God.’ The women were making such a racket that they started to disturb the whole building, and then, uncharacteristi- cally, they descended the staircase and walked through the men directly to the Torah. Together, they surrounded the sacred text. The men were shocked. Normally some- thing like this would not be tolerated. However, the women were not to be trifled with on this day. They took charge of the service, and read directly from the Torah while continuing their pleas, ‘Why God? Why can’t Chaja and Hersch have a family?’ Tears and crying continued, which knew no bounds. It was such a spectacle to see that I will never forget. Prayer can be a mystical thing, especially for the Orthodox Hasidic Jews. They have an expression, Zol Treffen. It means, to will something to happen. My mom and her friends were doing exactly that, conjuring the mystical, so that I should live by the sheer intensity of their prayers. When the results were positive, it was considered a miracle, and the word would be spread near and far. When the results were negative, it would be the will of Hashem, God, and nothing could change destiny. I came from a cauldron of spirituality. My family may have been secular, but if they had a serious issue, they would always defer to the Orthodox temple. Meanwhile, despite all the attention, slowly, one step at a time, I recovered; it was a miracle I survived. I did not know it then, but it seems this was the first of many miracles of survival, for me. This is also why, as soon as I was well enough, my parents took an extra measure to ensure my long-term survival by bringing me to the local Rabbi, and asking him for a blessing. They did not want to go through something as heart-wrenching as this ever again. So they asked the rabbi, ‘How can we ensure our child will have a long life?’ The rabbi told them, “To give the child the strongest blessing you need to take the boy to our spiritual leader, The Tsadik (charismatic rabbi) of Tyczyn. He will know what to do to protect the child and ensure him a long life.” At that moment they made up their minds to take me to the famous Tsadik. It was a long ride to Tyczyn, about 90 kilometers away. As soon as I was well enough, we took the horse and carriage and went on a pilgrimage to seek the widely respected
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