By Ally Hadge, Features Editor
This past summer, I had the privilege of participating in the Summer in Jerusalem (SIJ) program. It was an unforgettable summer full of volunteering, learning and new experiences. I worked at Shalva National Center, a place dedicated to providing care for individuals with disabilities and special needs.
Every single day, I had the incredible opportunity of working with five-year-old boys and girls with Down Syndrome. Despite my lack of fluent Hebrew knowledge, I refused to let the language barrier affect my relationship with the children and those I worked with. In fact, the language barrier opened my eyes to a deeper connection with these children. I began to see them for who they truly were – unique, vibrant and full of life.
Even with just a handful of words, I learned to communicate with them through laughter, presence and empathy. What amazed me most was how their disabilities only enhanced their spirit. These kids, with their boundless courage, taught me that true strength comes not from avoiding obstacles, but from overcoming them. They were, without a doubt, some of the most powerful and inspiring individuals I’ve ever met.
There’s a story that will stay with me forever – a moment so small yet so profound, it still feels as though it could have happened yesterday. There was one little boy who couldn’t eat or drink like the other kids. The food he could eat consisted of pudding, yogurt and a special drink with a big straw. But even then he always made a mess. He couldn’t hold the straw by himself, so every day, I’d sit beside him at lunch, helping him, cleaning up the food that splattered across his face.
I still have pictures of him – adorable shots with yogurt smeared all over, as his face lit up with the most joy a person could have. But there was more to him than just that. Despite the struggle, he turned every moment into something fun. Even when he made a mess, he just laughed – his laugh was infectious, filling the room with lots of warmth.
But it wasn’t just the feeding difficulties. He had a feeding tube, and every day, the nurse would come in to give him the nutrients he needed. The tube, though, wasn’t kind to him. It caused him pain, discomfort that no one could take away. I remember the way he cried, his small body trembling as the food was inserted through the tube. And every time, I’d sit with him, holding his hand, offering him what little comfort I could.
That summer, our goal was simple but monumental: help him feel comfortable drinking water on his own. The other staff, well-meaning but impatient, pushed him too hard. Every time they did, his frustration boiled over. He’d scream, yell, demand they leave him alone. And then one day, something changed.
We were outside on the playground, the sun shining bright, and his face was flushed, red from the heat. I could tell he was thirsty, but I didn’t make a fuss. Quietly, without drawing attention, I poured him a cup of water. No one was watching – everyone else was absorbed in playing with the other kids. I slid the straw into the cup and helped him drink.
And then, the moment I will never forget. I saw it – just a faint shift in his eyes. His gaze locked onto the straw, and with a tiny, shaky breath, he began to drink water, on his own, for the first time. It was a simple act, but to me, it was nothing short of miraculous. I held my breath, trying to keep my emotions in check. This little boy who had faced so much, was doing something he had never done before – and I was right there, in that quiet, beautiful moment, witnessing his triumph.
I was raised with the values and ideas of never judging others based on their differences. My parents instilled in me that differences can actually be a good thing. You can’t learn much from people that look like you or act like you, but rather, you can learn most from people with different backgrounds and life experiences.
Anyone can add something to your life and change your views, if you allow yourself to be open. Each day something new can affect your life, if you take the time to notice everything that happens around you.
I have decided to pursue a career in social work and I want to focus on working with children. I believe the developmental stages throughout one’s childhood are crucial to the person they become. Each moment counts in your formative years. Each moment is bringing you from one step to the next. I want to be there, helping children take each step toward reaching their full potential.