Part II
Synopsis:
The second child born to the Erenfeld's was diagnosed with
cerebral palsy with left hemiplegea. The family decides, for
various reasons including shidduchim prospects, to
keep his existence a secret from the outside world. And so it
remains until Yehudis, a first grader, blurts out the secret
inadvertantly in class.
Morah Denberg, who has a special child of her own, calls up
the Erenfeld's and tries to make the mother, Bicky, face the
situation.
"What has a special child to do with all this?" Bicky
retorted, feeling her blood pressure rise, "Listen, Mrs.
Denberg, I don't know what you're talking about and I
definitely know nothing of a special child. I do appreciate
your concern about my family." With that said, Bicky put the
receiver back into its place, leaving a bewildered teacher
hanging on the other end of the line.
"Phew! What a night!" Bicky was about to plop right back onto
her recliner, when her husband appeared in the doorway.
"Who was that on the phone?" her husband asked as he sat down
on the sofa. After two minutes of silence, her husband spared
his wife a look, and noticed the flushed anger on her
face.
"That was Morah Denberg, Yehudis' teacher, on the phone.
Would you like to know what she had to say?" she waited for
her husband to brace himself for what was coming. "She simply
'called up' to let us know that we have a 'special' child, as
she called it. Wasn't that nice of her to remind us of our
pain?" She looked at her husband, awaiting his consent to her
words. His words were, however, surprisingly different from
what she had expected.
"Bicky," her husband began gently, "first, let's not
introduce loshon hora. And second, who ever said
Shlomo causes pain? I've been meaning to tell you for years:
our Shlomo is special! But anyway, how did this Mrs.
Denberg discover our Shlomo's existence?"
"I'm not quite sure. But she did say something about Yehudis
mentioning something about 'an older brother of hers.' I
guess that's our answer, Yehudis must've leaked something.
Oh, I sure hope Morah Denberg will have the sense to keep the
information to herself. I mean, I did deny having such a
child, but I don't think I sounded too convincing."
"Well, actually," Mr. Erenfeld said, avoiding his wife's
eyes, "when we decided to keep Shlomo a secret, I didn't
realize what we were getting ourselves into. The children are
affected by the whole secrecy thing, and I think we are as
well. Eventually, people will find out about Shlomo, anyway.
Beside, we have nothing to be ashamed of with Shlomo."
"Moishy," Bicky whispered to her husband, "I know this
secrecy will have to end someday, but I simply do not have
the courage to let the cat out of the bag!" The couple looked
at each other, removing the need for any more verbal words to
be said.
Deep inside, Bicky knew that her husband and Mrs. Denberg
were right about letting the word out about Shlomo, but she
simply could not do it by herself. She needed help, and she
knew just the person to whom she could turn. Mrs. Denberg.
But the question still remained, how would she get the
courage to turn to this stranger who so courageously opened
her mind to the topic most sensitive to her? Bicky felt
trapped, like a lion bound in rope, with its only means of
escape a determined friend.
Over the course of the next few weeks, Bicky worked up her
courage to call Mrs. Denberg. Again and again, she failed to
actually place the call. So, many a time, she was dialing
that number, ready to confront her buried conscience, only to
be scared off by a stubborn voice calling from within her.
Bicky was lost; what was she to do? How was she to get over
the big boulder placed before her?
It wasn't until the fifth week from that first phone call
from Mrs. Denberg that Bicky found the answer to her problem.
It was the day her daughter, Yehudis, came home with a PTA
notice.
"A PTA meeting? This Thursday?" the thought hit Bicky like a
bolt of lightning. At last, she thought excitedly,
a solution to my problem. I will now get to meet her face
to face and relieve the secret that's been lying on my heart
for eight long, painful years.
The night of the P.T.A. arrived. Bicky, dressed in her best,
entered the school building. She went up the two flights of
stairs and made her way to the first grade classroom. She
stopped suddenly in front of the door. Did she really want to
do this? Was she ready to untie the knots she had so tightly
knit over the past eight years?
Her thoughts were disturbed when a teacher came out of the
first grade classroom, and motioned for Bicky to take her
place in front of the teacher.
Bicky entered the room. There was no going back now. She took
a few more steps and came face to face with Mrs. Denberg for
the first time. She was ashamed of the thought of having
avoided this woman for so long. And now, not only was she
seeing her, but she was about to reveal an innermost secret
about her family! And to think she had lied to her about ever
possessing a 'special child!' Bicky blushed at her passing
thoughts.
"Mrs. Erenfeld, what a pleasure to meet you at last!"
"A pleasure to meet you, too." Bicky turned an even brighter
shade of red.
The teacher continued, "I have so much to tell you about
Yehudis. She's just a pleasure to have in class. In fact
she's an asset to the class. She's a serious student who does
her work very nicely. There is, however, something that seems
to be bothering Yehudis; she's very quiet lately, Mrs.
Erenfeld! Are you alright?"
Mrs. Denberg looked on horrified as Bicky burst into a pool
of tears. Although embarrassed by her outburst, Bicky let the
tears flow freely from her eyes. It was then, for the first
time, that Bicky spoke about her life and her hardships that
she carried in her.
Bicky spoke, Esther listened. Bicky cried, Esther
comforted.
At last, Bicky asked, and Esther answered. Esther indulged
Bicky with the story of her own life. How she was told the
truth about her special child and how she and her husband had
vowed never to keep their Benji a secret, but to spread the
truth about him to the world so that others would grow and
learn from him. "And believe it or not," Esther Denberg
finished off saying, "my children are happy children who have
made many friends. And best of all, they have learned to love
Benji and others for who they are!"
That night, Bicky came home exhausted, yet it felt as though
a huge stone was lifted off her shoulder. At last, people
would know! No, the world would know!
Her husband, pacing the kitchen floors for the umpteenth
time, looked up anxiously as his wife entered the front door.
And seeing his wife's satisfied, yet exhausted, smile, and
the new spark of hope glistening in her tired eyes, he
breathed a sigh of relief. A relief filled with hope for
their future.
Two years later:
Bicky awoke with a start. Darkness surrounded her. She gazed
around the hospital room. Breaking the stillness of the
night, she heard the sound of a newborn baby's cries carrying
through the long corridor. Instinctively, she knew it was her
own child's.
Bicky stepped off the hospital bed, walked into the corridor
and headed towards the cries of the newborn baby girl. The
cries were coming from within the nursery room. This time,
there was no need to press any red emergency lights. This
time, she had placed her child in the hospital's care. She
entered the nursery, placed a soothing hand on the crying
baby girl. Thoughts from the past two years suddenly flashed
through her mind. Hadas, once a lone and resentful child, was
now a popular seventh grader with the sensitivity of an older
child. Yehudis and Tzvi were both very successful in school
and were now well-liked by all, teachers and friends
alike.
And of course there was Shlomo.
Just like a diamond, when pulled from muddy grounds and
shined to its maximum sparkle, is admired with awe by all,
so, too was Shlomo. A precious soul, pulled from its hiding
place, was revealed to all. Shlomo was now looked upon as
clear, fresh air being blown their way. Shlomo was now being
intergrated into a regular school with the help of
organizations that cater to the needs of children like
Shlomo.
"And best of all," thought Bicky with satisfaction, "my
children are all proud to have a special brother like
Shlomo." And, turning to her now sleeping newborn, she said
with overwhelming pride, "My child, you will not be a hidden
treasure buried deep in our hearts. You will be a shining
star to be hung high above us all to help and guide us in the
right direction. My dear child, you will make us proud!" With
that Bicky planted a wet, loving kiss on the girl's soft
cheek.
Yes, ten years after the Erenfelds have given birth to their
special child Shlomo, Hashem once again entrusted them with a
special neshoma to be raised in their care. She,
Shlomo's 'special' sister, was born with Down's Syndrome.
