My Menorah Miracle

My insurance agent billed it as a standard pre-retirement meeting. What was to transpire, however, was nothing short of miraculous.  

During our discussion of the various money management choices awaiting me when my savings reached maturity, my agent casually asked, “Do you have any other savings?”  

“Why, yes,” I replied. “Some investments from monies won in a medical claim.”  

“What medical claim?” he asked after a moment of stunned silence.  

“Oh. Didn’t I tell you?” I asked sheepishly.  

When he shook his head, I filled him in on the injuries I suffered four years previously when hit by a car and the eventual out-of-court settlement my lawyer had secured the following year with the driver’s insurance company.  

My agent stroked his chin in deep thought. Eventually, he said, “Let’s look at your insurance plans. Perhaps there is an accident disability element.”  

Amazingly, there was not one, but two. The first in an insurance policy with Harel and the second in a policy with Menorah. However, both policies carried a three-year statute of limitations, yet four years had passed since my accident. “Let’s try anyway,” the agent suggested. “You’re a long-standing client who has never submitted a claim before.”  

I keep good financial and medical records, so it was a cinch to procure the needed documentation for the claim requests for each insurance company. A month later Harel accepted my claim. Menorah followed suit six weeks later.  

In his book The Secret Life of G-d, Rabbi David Aaron used the metaphor of Hashem as Author of a multi-centuries-long story called “Life.” The Author bears sole responsibility for the plot. Each one of us is a character in this story and every character serves the Author. Our freewill choice is not whether we serve the Author or not. Rather, our choice is how we will serve him: Directly by playing the hero or heroine, or indirectly by playing the villain.  

Our choices, Rabbi Aaron says, don’t really make a difference to the Author… His story will be written. However, our choices definitely make a difference to us, the characters.  

“As we all know, the good guys win in the end. Sure, they might lose some battles along the way, but they always win the war. However, even when they appear to be losing, often they really are winning, because in every moment of their struggle they achieve personal transformation and enjoy a profound sense of identification with the Author” (The Secret Life of G-d).  

I think what Rabbi Aaron is getting at is how the Divinely ordained happenstances of our lives sometimes can radically change our personal outlook. Take our mother Sarah, for example. When she laughed to herself after overhearing the angel’s announcement that at age 90 she would give birth to a son, Hashem asked Avraham, “Why did Sarah laugh…? Is anything too difficult for G-d?” Sarah laughed not from doubt at Hashem’s capabilities. Rather, she laughed because for 89 years she had lived without a womb and had accepted upon herself the outlook of being a barren woman. Therefore, at that late stage, for Hashem to insert this plot twist into her life – well, it was a shock. A welcome shock, of course, but a shock, nonetheless.  

A similar shock affected me with the insurance claim process. From being widowed with four teenagers in my care to being hit by a car and various accidents in between, I had accepted upon myself the outlook of being a recipient of harsh decrees. Yet the fact remains Hashem moved heaven and earth (and broke a few insurance company rules) to drop a large sum of free money in my lap.  

Obviously, it was time to adjust my outlook on life. I took a first step by renovating my utility room and kitchen. (Thank you, Hashem!) I took a second step by starting to walk every day in order to get in better shape, both physically and mentally. And to think: These offshoots of a gigantic personal transformation began with an uneventful morning in my insurance agent’s office!