The flowers were ordered-they decided on pink and blue. The gown was stunning-it fit perfectly. The caterer had agreed to the molded dessert that she loved. But the bride was not happy. “Flowers and desserts are nice but what about my father! It’s my special day. He talked about this day since I was a little girl. And now he won’t even be there.”
Miles across town, Eli’s tears mixed with his daughter’s as he lay ill in the hospital bed. There was not a chance that he would be released before the wedding. In his mind’s eye, he could see himself hugging his tiny daughter when she, with all the force of a four-year-old, asserted that she wanted to marry only him when she grew up. He recalled the serious talks they had during her high school years- she was a deep child, that daughter of his. And now…
Sensitive to the mood of the patients, an Ezer Mizion volunteer entered his room and that’s when it all began. A consultation with the physician. A meeting with the head of Ezer Mizion’s Ambulance Division. A vehicle outfitted for medical needs. Trained drivers. And the most important ingredient: compassion. Within days all was in place. The flowers were lovely but most beautiful of all was the bride’s face as the Ezer Mizion staff member wheeled her father down the aisle with her. Their eyes locked. He clasped her hand. Father and daughter together, sharing a special moment.
Eli is just one of the many who was able to celebrate a family milestone, courtesy of Ezer Mizion’s Ambulance Division. The professionally trained drivers spend their days transporting the ill, the aged and disabled to medical clinics and treatment centers. For these, so many of them holocaust survivors, keeping a doctor’s appointment, attending thrice weekly dialysis treatments or chemo treatments is as impossible as traveling to the moon. And a small amount of slots are reserved for ‘dreams’. It may be visiting the Kossel once again, perhaps spending an hour or two with an equally disabled relative or attending a family celebration like Eli. An Ezer Mizion driver thinks nothing of carrying a wheelchair-bound patient down three flights of stairs and then up again on their return. He does it with love. He does it with dignity. He does it because each client is like a brother.
For further info: www.ezermizion.org