"So what are these for?" I ask over Ben's hysterical wailing.
"This one is for meningitis, and this one is for pneumonia," she explains, applying a band-aid to the pinprick on his upper arm. "He's going to be crabby the next few days—you can give him Tylenol."
I was awash in awe and gratitude, even though he was takka crabby that night and by the time I thought to give him the Tylenol, it was waaaaaay past my bedtime.
My niece was asking me about vaccinations—she didn't quite understand how they work, and I did a pretty clumsy job trying to explain, referencing cowpox and smallpox and Spanish flu and milder forms of flu that prepped the older population to withstand the onslaught.
I was talking to Ta about Ben's shots, and his response was the same as mine. "It's amazing, when once 8 out of 10 children died," he said.
"I know, isn't it?"
I didn't want to terrorize my niece, but all those diseases we don't even process anymore—polio, smallpox, diptheria—they once killed so many.
Nowadays, it is understood a child will live. Then, they believed a child could die.
It is understood that there will be a vaccine developed for Covid; we won't be living in fear forever. We know how to overcome it. Once, they had no comprehension of basic hygiene (see "The Doomsday Book" by Connie Willis).
Obviously, Ben cannot understand why masked demons are terrorizing him with my permission, and I can't help but recall its example as a mashal—sometimes we have times of pain, because Hashem says it's for our best.
Nowadays, it is understood a child will live. Then, they believed a child could die.
It is understood that there will be a vaccine developed for Covid; we won't be living in fear forever. We know how to overcome it. Once, they had no comprehension of basic hygiene (see "The Doomsday Book" by Connie Willis).
Obviously, Ben cannot understand why masked demons are terrorizing him with my permission, and I can't help but recall its example as a mashal—sometimes we have times of pain, because Hashem says it's for our best.
2 comments:
I also always think of vaccinations as a mashal for how Hashem sometimes treats us. I wish I always had a baby's response -- even though Mommy/Daddy may have allowed the pain (even held the baby down, in my case), the baby always turns to the parent to be comforted when the shots are done. The baby doesn't jump to rejection of the parent or doubt of the parent's love. Easier said than done, though.
I never thought of the further step, how the baby still turns to the parent! Thank you for that! And yes, very much easier said than done! Once I was so angry at Hashem for a disappointment I had I gave Him the silent treatment for ten days.
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