Shul News & Notes

Dear members and friends,

I am not a rabbi. At times like this, I wish I had at hand the depth of a Rabbi’s holy insight and the eloquence of a Rabbi’s spiritual vocabulary. With those special gifts, the better to express the joy and gratitude I feel at this moment, thoughts bestowed upon me by a simple act — a keystroke on my computer.

Those of you who attend Saturday morning services may have become familiar with the names read week after week of those inscribed on the shul’s Mi Sheberach list — a record of friends and family members struggling with illness, challenges, and worrisome conditions that we pray God will alleviate. As caring friends and family members add names from time to time, the list identifies them for HaShem to recognize and, with our hopeful prayers, to intervene, purging further suffering and concern for their wellbeing.

On my mind today, however, is a name not added to the list, but one that I removed — not to mourn the person bearing that name, but to rejoice in the healing that has taken place.

I first heard about young Leah Tomaszewski from her grandmother, who is one of the participants in my memoir-writing class. We fellow writers had celebrated with Mary Ellen when Leah was born, only to learn not so long later that this beautiful child had been diagnosed with cancer, struggling to stay alive. What could we do? How could we help?

We rationalized that this was a situation in which Leah’s future depended largely on the skills of her doctors and the support of her parents and extended family. But what about God, I thought. Would not God look favorably on this child? Maybe if I asked… I added her name to the Mi Sheberach list at our shul, and focused my thoughts on her as her name was read aloud every week, year after year…

Over time, as Leah’s health wavered from worse to better and again to worse, I wondered what prayer could really do? Does it honestly help those in pain, or is this more of a panacea for me, satisfying my need, my longing to do something… anything for Leah and her family.

Meanwhile, this brave youngster began a series of chemotherapy treatments. Mary Ellen said that throughout the ordeal, Leah constantly surprised her family, never losing her confidence as she lived her days as a kid who was bald.

A few days ago, I received a holiday letter from Mary Ellen, detailing the projects that keep her and Tom engaged in home, community and, of course, family. Among notes about the grandchildren — Madison, Shawn, Leah, Eli, Tobias and Otis — came this: “For two-and-a-half years,” she wrote, “Leah’s childhood had been interrupted as she endured grueling treatments and four surgeries. Now beautifully healthy and active, 2025 marked a second year for Leah being chemo-free.” Then she added, “It is rare for our whole family to be together. But in mid-December, there we were, the 14 of us in Delaware, together, for Leah’s bat mitzvah.”

The very same day I read Mary Ellen’s holiday letter, I went to my computer, called up the Mi Sheberach list and, smiling through tears, and with a firm hand and a single keystroke, deleted Leah’s name from the list. Not that she might not need God’s attention at other times in her life, but with gratitude for this goodness, HaShem can turn to those who, for now, need him more.

Is there truly power in prayer, as has been said? Surely skill and emotional support have healed this courageous young woman. Yet, can it be that something miraculous had guided their hands. I believe so. I believe that prayer may have paved God’s path to Leah.

—Sara Bloom