"So How Did You Really Survive Those Years?" A Letter to Noa Chaibi - The Baby from the Remedia Case

Dear Noa,

Yes, yes, I am addressing you, Noa Chaibi. The baby who made headlines under such tragic circumstances. The girl who throughout her life communicated only through eye blinks, and the young woman who succumbed to death yesterday after 15 years of a persistent battle. A battle for life.

I'm speaking to you, Noa, and I feel compelled to say a few words.

Like many others, I will never forget that terrible day 15 years ago. It was after a peaceful Shabbat meal when suddenly a loudspeaker rang out from the street. A car equipped with a public address system drove through the empty streets announcing that babies fed on the Remedia soy formula were urgently required to go to the hospital and cease consuming the milk substitute entirely.

It was late at night, things were not yet clear and understood. No one could have predicted that five babies would pay with their lives for the negligence and that many additional babies would be affected. No one imagined that you, Noa, born a perfect and amazing baby, would become irreparably harmed because of it.

Two Warriors

Dear Noa, you were among the babies affected in the Remedia case. From a laughing and developed baby, you lost all ability to function, affected in the harshest way possible. Yesterday, 15 years after the disaster, you left this world.

What did you experience during all those years filled with suffering? No one can truly guess. Perhaps you were with us and experienced every detail of life, perhaps you wanted to talk but were trapped inside yourself, perhaps you wanted to tell your parents something, maybe to express your appreciation to them, but even through a letter board, you couldn't communicate. You couldn't even scratch your nose. No one gave you a chance. In interviews your mother Aviva gave many times over the years, she shared that doctors saw no hope for you to overcome the injuries, but she always believed in you.

Special Noa, I want to tell you a thing or two about your devoted mother, Aviva. The one who accompanied you all these years without pause. I didn’t know her personally, but I observed from afar and saw how she believed in you, despite the doctors’ grim predictions, and in every interview she gave to the media over the years, she told how you were developing and bringing her happiness.

I want to tell you about your heroic mother. The one who, after your passing, called you a "warrior" (though she possibly forgot her own battle). She, even in the last four years when you were in a coma, connected to a ventilator and fed directly to the stomach, never left your side but opened an intensive care room at home for you.

Anyone familiar with the field knows that there are several hospitals in the country where children in such states are admitted. It is not easy to treat them at home, and neither is it cheap. It requires vast medical knowledge, professional training, turning night into day, countless sacrifices, and grueling, exhausting work.

There is no doubt that it is easier to transfer the child to an institution and take them home once a month for Shabbat. But your mother, Noa, never thought of her personal comfort. For her, the best place for you was home, and that's where you were, surrounded by warmth and infinite love. Your mother also set up a special treatment room and a pool in the yard for hydrotherapy treatments that might help you.

The Secret: Looking Forward

"Now our Noa has grown weary", said your mother heartbroken at the funeral evening, and that was it. She couldn’t speak more of you, but the immense love was clearly interwoven in her trembling words. Interviewers tried to question her about the laughable punishment given to those responsible for the Remedia case, but your mother preferred not to address it at all.

"I don’t want to talk about it," she told the questioners, "I’ll tell the truth – I set my anger from that time aside. I knew I needed to focus on my child and that I needed to give my daughter life and be solely for her. I left the anger aside because I felt it brought bad energies into the house. I think I managed to keep my daughter alive for 15 years because I let go. I let go of that anger."

And perhaps, Noa, this is indeed where your noble mother's great secret lies. Because, unlike many cases where families destroy their lives after someone harms their family member, your mother chose to close her eyes and move forward. Unlike families that spend their lives pursuing drivers who harmed their loved ones and staunchly demand they remain behind bars until death, your mother acted differently. And unlike families that cannot return to life due to the intense anger stemming from the past, your mother chose to extinguish the anger instead of fueling it with oil and gas.

I assume it was clear to your mother too that those responsible must be punished. It is evident that anyone who truly wants to prevent similar cases in the future must ensure the most severe punishment for the accused, but when this becomes a life goal, the loss is enormous. And the gain? After all, even if the offender is jailed for life and pays enormous fines, it won’t bring the family member back to life. It won’t improve their condition even slightly. So why add suffering upon suffering?

Your mother knew this secret, and this helped her endure throughout the years of hardship she experienced. She always looked forward and never backward. She rejoiced in every blink seen in your eyes and every smile that appeared on your lips, even if it was deemed by doctors as a reflex or incidental, and never looked back. Your mother knew how to look to the future, Noa, and that is so worthy of tremendous admiration.

Everlasting Love

Dear Noa, now you are no longer with us. Surely you are well and happy. But just before the media moves on to the next headlines, I wanted to thank you and share how much I personally learned from you and your mother.

It's no coincidence you left this world on the eve of Rosh Hashanah. It's impossible to hear your story and not be inspired to strengthen one's faith and hope - to understand that even when a sharp sword rests on the neck, one can still always strive for the best, and as long as the candle burns, there is still time to make amends.

To strengthen in love and compassion - even towards those who struggle, whether they are the sick, the elderly, or tiny infants. They may not be able to return the favor, but that is precisely the true act of kindness, and that is what the Creator demands of us. And yes, to strengthen in the work of improving one's character, and to know that all that happens in our world is the essence of goodness, even if we do not understand it, for it can’t be otherwise.

Dear Noa, all I can do is wish for you and all of us that just as your devoted mother had compassion for you over the years and loved you regardless of your condition and outward appearance, so too may the Almighty shower us with warmth and love from above.

For we are all His children, and even when we are harmed or in a coma, He still loves us. Always.

Rest in peace, beloved child, may you have and may we all have a good year.