Of Fingers and Wounds

The rabbi got shot in the index fingers
in the terror attack. A brave woman step-
ped in-between the rabbi and the gun-
man and took a bullet for her spiritual
guide. She died. She is a hero. A friend
called her a true Eshet Chayil, a Woman
of Valor. The rabbi ran and gathered all the
little kids together in a safe place. He’s a
hero, too. According to his testimony, he
didn’t even realize his fingers had been
injured when he gathered the kids. Adrena-
line will do that. He felt bad that his little
granddaughter had to see him bleeding and
screaming. Strange, the things you think of
later. The rabbi must feel very lucky to be
alive. I wonder if he will suffer survivor’s
guilt. Also, losing fingers can’t be an easy
thing to deal with on down the line. I knew
a man who lost just one finger in a work
accident. That missing finger bothered him
for the rest of his life. He would rub the
place where the finger used to be. The rabbi
was shot in both index fingers. I guess he’s
feeling pretty fortunate. Still, losing fingers
can’t be very easy. I wonder when the
adrenaline wore off and the pain set in.
Such courage. I can’t even imagine. I can’t
even imagine losing one finger let alone two.
What will the rabbi think of when the wounds
to his hands have healed? Will he rub the
places where his fingers were and if so, what
other wounds will he ponder and massage?

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