My first realization upon stepping off the plane at Ben Gurion Airport was that it was really hot. My second was that I was drunk and I wasn’t sure exactly where I was. My initial shock at being in a foreign country without recalling how I had gotten there wore off as I continued to inundate myself with drugs and alcohol. My first few months in Israel were much of the same. My days consisted mostly of nights full of partying; however somewhere in those few months I had begun “studying” at a school that tolerated my behavior. I was quite content to continue living life as I had in the states albeit in Israel it was easier without the overbearing parents.
Shortly into my year in Israel I was presented with a situation getting high was not going to solve. I had been a participant in one of the frequent street fights which usually resulted from boredom. Luckily, I was only injured lightly, unlike some of the other participants. My nose was broken and I needed medical care. For this type of situation I was unprepared. I had not mastered any Hebrew, I had no insurance and I had no idea how to go about finding a doctor. Suddenly, from nowhere one of the annoying social workers I had seen prowling the street asked if I needed help. Normally, I was loathe to trust any adults I didn’t know, however I didn’t have that luxury this time. She took me to the nearest hospital and stayed with me for the inordinately long time it took to get seen. It was almost dawn when we finally left the hospital. In parting, Caryn, the social worker, told me to come visit her at the “Center.”
Although, I had nonchalantly shrugged off the invitation, I had planned on seeing what the center was all about. After hours spent with me at the hospital, Caryn had never mentioned religion, getting clean, seeing a therapist, finishing school or the myriad of other things adults were always telling me; instead she had only given me kindness and patience. The next day I visited the “Center.” It was nothing that I had expected. There were computers, a TV, food, schedules of cool classes and trips. No matter how hard I looked, I could not find the catch. There were no rabbis lurking and I even heard a social worker arguing with a parent on the phone on the child’s behalf. Caryn told me that she was busy but I should schedule a time later in the day.
Unsuspecting, I returned a few hours later for my appointment. We sat and continued where we had left off the night before. We spoke of the fights in my house growing up, the numerous high schools, and the drugs I had turned to. At the completion of the hour, Caryn informed me that we just had a therapy session and we should continue them weekly. Surprisingly, I did not mind being duped. Although, I had been to a dozen therapists previously, that was the first therapy session I did not feel like running from.
This began my long road back to humanity. At Caryn’s gentle prodding, I finally put down the drugs and alcohol for good a few years ago. I reconciled with my family and began taking control of my life. I was tutored for both my G.E.D. and S.A.T. at the “Center” and even began my first few classes online using the “Center’s” computers. Today, I am poised to graduate from a renowned university in the coming spring. The compassion Caryn showed a dirty, drunk, and injured boy on a Jerusalem street has been the impetus for a whole new life.