Amichai Schindler lost his hands, but not his faith
INthe small shul inside Sheba Hospital’s rehabilitation wing sits a man whose hands have been blown off, and he and his chavrusa meet every day to study Maseches Yadayim.
To write these words about a grievously wounded man would — in any other context — be cheap melodrama. But not when it comes to Amichai Schindler. The starkness of that outline seems the only way to do justice to this father-of-six’s story.
On Simchas Torah morning, Hamas terrorists blasted their way into Kerem Shalom, a kibbutz on the Gaza border. They blew open the door to the bomb shelter where Amichai and his family were hiding. The explosion threw him clear across the room where he lay for the next two hours, his life ebbing away.
When Amichai woke up ten days later, he found that his smashed face had been rebuilt, but that his hands were gone forever.
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