A Yom Kippur in the Delivery Room: The Lesson She Never Forgot

Four years ago, at seven in the morning on Erev Yom Kippur, the phone rang.

Who could be calling so early? It was my daughter, Simcha.

I answered, “Yes, Simchaleh, good morning.”

“Mom, I’m going to the delivery room.”

“Excuse me?” I said. “Where are you going?”

“To the delivery room,” she repeated.

I couldn’t believe it.

“What do you mean? It’s Erev Yom Kippur! I’m not going with you to the delivery room today. This isn’t the right day. I want to visit the gravesites of righteous people, put on my white clothes, prepare the house, and be in synagogue for Kol Nidrei. Give birth the day after tomorrow, not today!”

“But Mom, it’s happening now. Come quickly,” she cried.

I tried to calm her down. “My Simcha, today really isn’t a good time. Breathe, rest, ask them to discharge you...”

Of course, none of that helped.

By three o’clock that afternoon, I was at the hospital. It was serious, and as I held my daughter’s hand, one thought kept running through my mind: What am I going to do about Kol Nidrei?

I looked up to heaven and prayed, “Father in Heaven, please, let her give birth quickly.”

The moment those words left my mouth, a team of midwives rushed into the room with a doctor.

“Fetal distress! Quickly, to the operating room!”

Within moments, my daughter was being rushed down the hall on a hospital bed. The operating room doors closed behind her, and I was left standing outside.

Suddenly, I realized what I had just prayed for.

I had asked Hashem to let her give birth quickly. And what could be quicker than surgery?

I put my hands on my head and said to myself, “Chagit Shira, do you understand? You’re arguing with Hashem.”

This Was Where Hashem Wanted Me

Something inside me suddenly surrendered.

If Hashem wanted me here, then this was where I was supposed to be.

Not in synagogue. Here, beside my daughter.

This was the Kol Nidrei Hashem wanted from me this year.

I looked up to heaven and asked for forgiveness.

“Father, I’m sorry. I regret it. Let everything happen in its proper time, without distress.”

I had barely finished praying when the doors opened.

They wheeled my daughter back out.

“A miracle happened here,” the medical team told me. “The fetus has stabilized. Everything is fine. She will be able to give birth naturally.”

I took a deep breath and accepted the situation with love.

And at the exact time of Kol Nidrei, I held a sweet, beautiful granddaughter in my arms.

My Personal Seder HaAvodah

I didn’t pray Kol Nidrei. I didn’t pray the evening service.

I spent the entire evening with my daughter, helping her and simply being present.

That night, I thought to myself, “Okay. Tomorrow, with Hashem’s help, I’ll go to synagogue and take part in the Seder HaAvodah.”

But almost immediately, I caught myself.

“Chagit Shira, you are doing the Seder HaAvodah with your daughter in the hospital.”

And that is exactly what happened.

I did not pray the morning service that Yom Kippur. Instead, I went down to my daughter after she had given birth. I helped her get up. I cared for her. I was there for her.

I did what a mother needed to do.

That was my Seder HaAvodah that year.

Where Does Hashem Want Me to Be?

Why am I telling you this story?

Because one of the most important lessons is contained in the words “who made me according to His will.”

On Yom Kippur, and on every other day of the year, first and foremost we must be present in the place that reflects His will, the place where Hashem needs us to be at that moment.

Sometimes that means being with our children. Sometimes it means caring for a woman who has just given birth. Sometimes it means being there for an elderly mother.

We may have imagined that our service of Hashem would look completely different. We may have planned the prayers we would say, the places we would go, and the spiritual moments we hoped to experience.

But sometimes Hashem places the real avodah directly in front of us.

That is the Seder HaAvodah: each woman with her own personal order of service.