Chilling: "He Told My Brother When and Where He Would Be Run Over"

Chaim Benjamin ben Shoshana Reizel, this was the name for prayer on the lips of the Jewish people for many weeks. The child Benjamin Beiglaizen was run over in front of his brother during Chol HamoedPesach last year, in a hit-and-run accident at the junction of Golda Meir and Yitzhak Mirsky streets in Jerusalem. For more than two months, he was hospitalized in the pediatric intensive care unit at Shaare Zedek, and after a prolonged battle for his life, he passed away.

"If we were decreed what was decreed, at least we are fortunate that the hit-and-run driver escaped," says Yisrael Meir Beiglaizen, Benjamin’s father. When I raise an eyebrow at this somewhat strange statement, he explains to me: "Because the driver fled, the police were chasing him, the media published his picture, and it generated very wide public resonance. 'Did they catch the driver, did they not catch him, did he confess in interrogation or stay silent.' Because of this, the people of Israel connected to our story, and everyone prayed for Benjamin, of blessed memory. Without this form, who would have cared? After all, every day someone is killed in a traffic accident, and several are injured; does anyone pray for them?"

I Haven’t Forgotten the Cancer

During the conversation with Benjamin’s parents, I understand that their story of faith and testing did not start with the tragedy of Benjamin, of blessed memory. "This is not our first family story," Yisrael Meir tells me.

What do you mean?

"Five years ago, I completed two years of a major trial dealing with cancer, which came to me for an uninvited visit. Those were two years of treatments and terrible side effects. Apart from the anxiety that enveloped me morning and evening, I also had the nightmare of side effects. There were various types of strange effects, one of them, for example, manifested as an electric current that I would feel with every touch of my fingers. It was very hard because I simply couldn’t do anything - not dial a phone, not button a shirt, not eat with my hands, nothing, absolutely nothing, because it hurt. But I progressed through it and learned how important a person's fingers are. I learned to give thanks for all the regular and natural goodness we have in our daily lives and routine."

Have recent troubles made you forget the first ones?

"Not only you ask me, but also people and friends ask: ‘Did you forget about the cancer?’, and I answer them: ‘I hope not’, because it allows me and gives me a reminder to give thanks every day for what Hashem has given me, and it’s a lot. When we are healthy, sometimes we forget, and the trial then gave me a lot of strength to cope with the harder trial that followed in the tragic passing of my son Benjamin, of blessed memory."

Do you think there is a connection between the cases?

"Of course there’s a connection; Hashem did both, and He knows why He did, even though I don’t exactly know."

He closes his eyes for a moment and recalls the painful details: "Benjamin and his brother got off a bus that brought them from Kiryat Sefer. Benjamin began crossing the street, and a speeding vehicle came and hit him and fled. But even here, nothing happened by chance; it’s evident that someone guided everything precisely, and I will detail. Benjamin stayed during Chol Hamoed with his older brother at my brother’s place in Kiryat Sefer. When they intended to return, they waited at the stop for the bus to Jerusalem. The information line showed them that the bus should arrive in ten minutes, then in five minutes, then in one minute, then there was no bus, it didn’t arrive. Later, the information line showed again that the bus should arrive in fifteen minutes, then in ten, then in one minute - and disappeared. So they waited at the stop for forty minutes. And what do you think, who ensured that the bus would be delayed, the dispatcher? Absolutely not. Hashem decided He wanted my flower with Him, so He delayed the bus until the reckless vehicle would pass on the road when Benjamin went down it."

When I try to talk with Yisrael Meir about the identity of the hit-and-run driver who did not offer help, he doesn’t let me. "We don’t waste our energies on ‘how did it happen? and why did it happen? who’s to blame? and why did he flee?’, because then we miss the real lesson."

Doesn’t it matter to you if they punish the perpetrator?

"We don’t want to waste our spiritual and faith-laden energies on engaging in the desire for vengeance, which won’t bring Benjamin back to us. We don’t cooperate much with the police investigation either, because we sense that they don’t really want the truth, but merely want to tick off the case and close it. The situation now is that the police have two suspects, each claiming that it wasn’t him. The police asked us to come in and persuade them to confess. But we asked a rabbi, and he said that it’s not certain that whoever it is, he’d actually confess. Therefore, he ruled for us not to cooperate. The investigator told me: ‘You probably want murderers to roam the streets.’ I said to myself: ‘If you really care that no people die, then come with me to the street, and I’ll show you what can be fixed and organized before the next disaster happens.’"

He Felt

Do you think Benjamin, of blessed memory, felt something was going to happen to him?

"The Gemara says a person doesn’t know things, but his fortune does. For several years, Benjamin suffered from severe nightmares. He would wake up at night and scream: ‘I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die.’ Of course, we dealt with it, but only after the fact, do I understand it wasn’t just nothing. There was also another chilling instance - a month before the accident, he stayed at my brother’s in Kiryat Sefer, and then he told him: ‘Do you want to hear a joke?’ When he answered yes, he began to tell: ‘There was a child standing at the hitchhiking point near my cheider at Golda Meir and Mirski Road, waiting for a ride. A car stopped next to him, and the driver asked the child: ‘Where do you need to go?’. The child answered: ‘I don’t know', and the driver continued on. After a few minutes, another driver came and asked the child: ‘Where do you need to go?’. The child said: ‘I don’t know', and the driver continued. After a few minutes, a car stood at the traffic light, and when the light changed - the car came and ran over the child, just as the child said he didn’t know where he needed to go, he really didn’t know.’ That’s the joke he told my brother. My brother told him: ‘What’s so funny about this joke?’, and he also told his wife ‘What a strange joke he is telling us.’ A month passed, and at that junction, where his cheider was, the ‘joke’ came true. He didn’t know, but his soul felt it."

What positive message did you understand during the hospitalization period?

"We understood how much the people of Israel are a unique nation like no other in the world. Everyone was around us all the time, bringing joy, support, encouragement, and even shedding tears, people we’d never known before, never seen. No such kindness exists anywhere in the world, only with the people of Israel. In our understanding, this is also part of the kisses we received from Hashem. True, we received a slap, but we must not underestimate the many kisses. Sometimes they were small kisses, and sometimes big kisses. We don’t know the reason for everything, but it is clear to us that it’s not for nothing; there is no coincidence, Hashem has more experience in this world than I do, and He never makes mistakes. The moment I know this and instill it within me, everything becomes much easier."

Beiglaizen also decided to promote an initiative that appreciates the minutes we have with our children, and the need to make use of them. He called the initiative "Precious Minutes". For this purpose, he created a website where people commit to blocking unnecessary apps, or commit hours, or even minutes, where they don’t touch their device. And so he opens his words: "I sit at the dinner table with my wife and kids, fork in one hand and my phone in the other, going through all the messages, and the very important new messages that pop up on my screen all the time. Then the phone rings: ‘Hit by car... Benjamin... intensive care... come immediately...’. The next thing I know is I am sitting in the ER, doctors approach me, heads bowed: ‘We are sorry to say this, but it is bad, very bad. We looked over the CT scan... it’s a matter of hours, if not minutes’. Then it hits me, how precious every moment we have with our children and spouse is. If only I spent every dinner with both hands, and my mind focused on enjoying my family, not checking what messages have arrived. As a memorial to our Benjamin, let us renew our focus on family, and what truly matters in life. I know it’s hard to ignore the phone, and those messages can be addictive. But let’s start, one app at a time. Delete one app that takes too much time out of your life, commit to turning the phone off during dinner, or to block out time when you won’t check your email, anything that will help you refocus on what truly matters. Let’s see how much more time we gain each day, time we can spend with our spouse, our children, friends, and neighbors.”

A Torah Legacy

Even Benjamin’s mother often talks about kisses and hugs from Hashem. It’s hard to remain indifferent in light of her words.

"When Benjamin passed," she recounts, "we were in the room by his side and knew we had to arrange the funeral. I was in emotional turmoil and said I wanted him buried at Har Hamenuchot. All the advisors and officials told us there was no chance of getting a plot there. But I wanted it very much and insisted. I called the chevra kadisha responsible for the Chassidic section and requested a plot for my child; they told me: ‘No chance, it’s a waste of your time’. I told them my husband’s grandparents are buried there, they continued to insist there was no space. A few minutes later, while we were still in the room, the chevra kadisha called us and said they found a plot at Har Hamenuchot, but it’s located between a man’s grave and a woman’s grave, was that an issue for us? We contacted a rabbi, and he said the problem could be resolved. The chevra kadisha man said to me, ‘We haven’t buried here for thirty years, it’s very rare.’ And where is the grave located? Very close to my husband’s grandparents, who died young.

"Moreover," she adds, "with binoculars, I can see from the grave our house, and from our house the grave, to the extent that relatives who are looking for Benjamin’s grave, I guide them from the porch through binoculars: ‘Take a left, now further down and you’ll reach’. To this I call kisses within the darkness, great Siata D'Shmaya (Divine Assistance). It’s clear to me that this plot was planned decades before, it simply waited for our Benjamin. In my eyes it’s like the things Hashem created on the eve of Shabbat between the suns. A kind of message from the Master of the World: ‘I know how hard what I did to you is, but I am doing something small to ease your pain and sorrow.’ These are my kisses."

What legacy did Benjamin, of blessed memory, leave you?

"A period before he passed, he told me he wanted to write a Torah scroll. I laughed inwardly at the initiative, but I told him it was a very nice idea, and for that, a lot of money needed to be collected. He took a box, and every 10 agorot he had - he put into it. We joked that at this rate, maybe in fifty years he would have enough to write a Torah scroll. When we told this during the shiva days to the Mekubal Rabbi Gamliel Rabinowitz, may he live and be well, he told us that this is the legacy of Benjamin, of blessed memory, to write a Torah scroll in his memory. Specifically for this purpose we are saving money and organizing a collection to make his words come true."

To contact the Beiglaizen family: ymb@cellularisrael.com