A tragic accident. A lone survivor. How does life go on when your friends have died? How does one mother face the others, when she was on the receiving end of Divine chesed and they, seemingly, of Divine judgment?
The windy, rainy night of November 11, four bar mitzvah boys were traveling home to Mitzpeh Yericho from their yeshivah in Jerusalem. Achiya Churi, Eitan Orenbach, Yishai Kroizer, and Yehoshua Strauss were thrilled when Yishai’s older brother Shlomo, an army officer on leave, came to their yeshivah to give them a lift. It would be faster and drier than taking the bus. But just a few minutes from the town’s gate, the car, as if with a mind of its own, swerved uncontrollably into the opposite lane and was instantly smashed by an oncoming bus. Shlomo and Yishai – two sons of the town’s Rabbi Yehuda Kroizer, and Achiya and Eitan were killed. Only Yehoshua Strauss somehow survived.
Yehoshua, conscious from the time of the accident, was hounded by reporters staked outside his hospital room, eager for his version, who in their initial reports were quick to point to Shlomo, z”l, for speeding or for some other human error that caused the vehicle to swerve. Two days later, he gave an interview to Yediot Ahronot describing how Shlomo was actually extra cautious, to the point where the other boys complained that he was driving too slowly. It was as if the car took on a life of its own, he related. Police examination of the skid marks on the road attested to this. According the police investigators, Yehoshua’s survival was nothing short of a miracle. He had some broken bones that have since healed, emerging with all his limbs intact. Yet he was in the fatal seat, next to the door that took the impact of the collision. Those next to him were killed instantly.
Three months later, Hindy Strauss is navigating between the profound pain of her friends’ losses and the intense gratitude for the Divine gift of her son’s life. The Kroizers’ rock-strong faith in the face of an Iyov-like tragedy, eloquently expressed in Israeli newspapers and other media, was a balm to a shaken public. Yet she, who was spared the personal loss, has to juggle unsettled feelings of guilt (Why did my son survive when the others perished?), awkwardness (How do I relate to my neighbors who have suffered so deeply?), and joy (My son is alive and healed).
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