Reb Chuni Gerdener, a respectable yungerman from Bnei Brak, shared with me an unbelievable story that happened to him and his wife. One that taught him that even in the darkest of times, Hashem is near and watching carefully over them.
Shortly before Mrs. Gerdener was expecting to give birth, she started to feel ill. After undergoing a series of extended tests, the doctors identified the illness she was battling. However, because of the possible effects that treatment could have on the child, it would have to wait.
She was reassured that the condition had been caught at an early stage. While there was no immediate danger and no urgent rush, two weeks after the birth, though, she would need to begin without delay.
Looking ahead on the calendar, those two weeks would conclude on a Thursday. The doctor explained that he would likely be able to begin the treatment then. But when he later reviewed his schedule and noticed a doctors’ meeting set for that day, he said that it would not be possible.
“Can we schedule it for Sunday then?” Mrs. Gerdener asked carefully. “My son is graduating on Friday, and I don’t know how I’ll be feeling after the infusions.”
The doctor shook his head. “No. It has to be Wednesday.”
“Wednesday?” she repeated. “That’s earlier than planned.”
“Yes,” he said flatly. “But that’s when I can see you.”
When she arrived on Wednesday, the doctor began discussing options beyond the standard treatment plan. He recommended adding a biological therapy in addition to the regular regimen. Then came the catch.
The biological treatment was not covered by insurance. If she chose to proceed, it would require an out-of-pocket payment of $2,000 per dose — twice a month for six months. A total of $24,000.
Her husband was a kollel man and she was a high school teacher. They surely didn’t earn anywhere near enough to absorb such an expense. The doctor advised them to think it over and reschedule for Sunday morning.
They left the office unsettled. Yet, life pressed on. A chavrusa was waiting for him; and she had to care for her family. And so, each went on with the demands of the day.
But as Chuni sat before his Gemara, he found it nearly impossible to concentrate. He did not want to rely on donations from others, yet he also could not imagine compromising on his wife’s care. As he was leaving kollel, a thought suddenly entered his head. The school where his wife taught had once offered her an insurance plan. Perhaps, just perhaps, it could help.
He called the teachers’ union and was told that the plan had been discontinued three months earlier. Still, they suggested he contact the insurance company directly. And he did.
The representative listened, and then said, “You’re calling at a very unusual time.” Chuni held his breath.
“Until three months ago,” she explained, “we offered free insurance to any teacher in the union. When that ended, we allowed a three-month enrollment window, during which teachers could join for a minimal fee.” There was a pause.
“That window closes today. In two hours, when our office closes, the offer closes with it. If you enroll now,” she continued, “you can remain covered for as long as you’d like, and that additional medication will be fully covered.”
Only then did the pieces fall into place.
The doctor’s rigid insistence that Mrs. Gerdener come in a day earlier — a decision that had felt unnecessary and even insensitive — was not for treatment at all. It was for coverage. Though the infusion itself was ultimately administered on Sunday, the insurance was already secured. And there was more. The treatment ended up being scheduled specifically for Sunday — after her son’s graduation — ensuring that she could be fully present for that milestone moment without fear or uncertainty overshadowing the day.
What had felt like resistance and closed doors was, in truth, careful guidance — every detail arranged with precision.
This lesson offered them the most meaningful support at a time they needed it most. No matter what a person faces in life, Hashem is always at his side — arranging, protecting, and carrying him through even the moments that feel uncertain.
