* Some names and details have been changed.

There is no "good" time to learn that one's child has a life-threatening illness. But for Vicki O. of Colorado Springs, Colorado, the news came during a particularly stressful period; she was eight months pregnant when her twenty-one-month-old son Micah was diagnosed with leukemia. Coming home from the hospital weeks later with a brand new baby and a desperately ill toddler was physically and emotionally overwhelming. Worse was the sense of isolation that Vicki felt; no one outside the family, it seemed to her, could appreciate the depth of her pain and fear.

Then a package arrived from Chai Lifeline, a Jewish health organization whose name the O.'s had never heard before. Wrapped in brightly colored paper, the parcel contained enough toys to delight any toddler, let alone one whose normal childhood routine had metamorphosed into a frightening merry-go-round of doctors, hospitals, and debilitating treatment protocols. But as Vicki would soon discover, more than just playthings had arrived from Chai Lifeline that day. Packed together with the teddy bears and tinker toys was the support and hope the O. family desperately needed.

Making friends at Camp Simcha.

"My first thought at diagnosis was that my child would die," states Vicki simply. In the harrowing months that followed, Chai Lifeline social workers and volunteers kept in frequent contact with the O.'s, acquainting them with the organization's vast array of services. One that proved especially helpful to Vicki was ChaiLine. It is a telephone conferencing program that enables parents of catastrophically ill children in North America to participate in support sessions with other Chai Lifeline parents and a qualified therapist. "Just speaking with mothers and fathers of children at different levels of treatment made me realize there is life after diagnosis," says Vicki.

Each year hundreds of new families turn to Chai Lifeline to find practical, psychological, and emotional assistance in dealing with their child's life-threatening illness. Yet since Chai Lifeline's inception in 1987, a guiding principle has been to view each family as unique, with distinct dynamics and particular needs.

Chai Lifeline frequently organizes bone marrow drives, and has facilitated the testing of more than 10,000 potential donors.

"A child with cancer is first and foremost a child," says Chai Lifeline Executive Vice President Rabbi Simcha Scholar, who has been at the organization's helm since its infancy. Indeed, the impetus for creating Chai Lifeline, he observes, was the desire to restore some semblance of a normal childhood to seriously ill Jewish youngsters. (Most of Chai Lifeline's kids have cancer, but the organization serves children with any life-threatening condition.)

Esther Schwartz visits with parents whose child is in isolation.

When it first began, the organization serviced only eight families through its one existing program, Camp Simcha, a free kosher sleep-away summer program for cancer-stricken children. Beyond the mental and physical respite it offered exhausted parents, the camp aimed to give stricken youngsters a few weeks "off" from the relentless round of doctor visits and dismal hospital stays. Chai Lifeline's founders believed that in a traditional camp setting, sick children would better assimilate the changes in their lives and garner the resolve to fight their illness. Today, Camp Simcha is a world-renowned "cancer camp" that services youngsters from cities throughout North America, Europe, and Israel in two three-week sessions.

In 1991, Chai Lifeline purchased a 160-acre campsite in rural Glen Spey, New York. It features an outstanding medical staff, under the direction of Dr. Peter Steinherz of Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in Manhattan. His on-site medical resources are state-of-the-art, and include a helipad for emergency transports.

Mickey Mouse makes a friend at Disney World.

Yet Camp Simcha manages to maintain a normal camp atmosphere. Casual visitors will observe the camp's impressive sports and recreational facilities. They may not immediately notice the other, more vital accommodations. An ambulance is parked out of sight. In the cheerfully appointed infirmary, chemotherapy treatments are administered with as little fanfare as possible. Protective shade trees abound, as do free soda machines and juice stations (to stave off dehydration). The food is not only nutritious but is also appealing to children whose appetites are often suppressed due to their medical treatments. A free canteen stays open late into the evening.

The campers enjoy miniature golf, swimming, crafts, rocketry, photography, drama, pottery, woodworking, and computers, leaving less time to dwell on their illness.

Mrs. M. was not alone when she got the devastating news; Esther Schwartz was there, crying right along with her.

"A few weeks of carefree fun does miraculous things for even the sickest child," says camp director Rabbi Elimelech Goldberg. "It enables him to come away saying, "I'm still me and I always will be.' "

While it remains Chai Lifeline's premier project, Camp Simcha is only a single facet of a network of support services, all of which are free. Chai Lifeline started as a two-man operation in a small Brooklyn office. It now maintains sixteen offices throughout the United States, Europe, and Israel (where the organization is called Kav L'Chaim).

"Chai Lifeline's growth has been dictated by need, pure and simple," explains Rabbi Scholar, who directs the organization from its Manhattan office. "We're adding close to 300 new families to our caseload every year, from all Jewish backgrounds and affiliations. And we have to be there for every member of each family — the stricken child, the overwhelmed parents, the frightened siblings — providing whatever support they need so they can get through this difficult time."

Chanukah Toy Drive volunteers work frenetically preparing gift packages.

This support extends way beyond a few weeks at summer camp. "People are sometimes surprised to learn that Chai Lifeline provides essential year-round health support services," says Rabbi Avrohom Cohen, the organization's executive director. These range from medical referrals to insurance support services, from emotional support groups to tutorial programs, from toy drives to blood drives, from special trips and holiday festivities to weekend retreats.

Chai Lifeline frequently organizes bone marrow drives, and has facilitated the testing of more than 10,000 potential donors. The organization recently published A Volunteer's Guide to Bone Marrow Donation, which answers commonly asked questions by prospective donors.

"Is there anything you need?" It's a question Chai Lifeline program director Esther Schwartz asks countless times daily on her rounds of the pediatric oncology wards in major New York and New Jersey hospitals. Mrs. T., the mother of impish two-year-old Sarah — hooked up at this moment to the machine that delivers her chemotherapy — smiles wearily. "No," she says, "we're fine." Sarah is in Sloan-Kettering Memorial Hospital just for the day; the months of hospitalization after surgery to remove a malignant tumor from her abdomen are thankfully over. But the road to recovery stretches uncertainly ahead. The strain on Mrs. T. is obvious.

Sarah keeps up a running line of chatter on everything from the orange-capped tubes running from her arm to the bag of French fries which, to her mother's clear delight, she is slowly but happily depleting. "I can't believe she's finally interested in eating something," says Mrs. T.

Camp Simcha's activities encourage campers and counselors to bind.

"She looks wonderful," Mrs. Schwartz concurs. Indeed, the toddler seems a different child from the pale, listless girl who was admitted to the hospital months before. Getting to this point has not been easy, the social worker knows. In the weeks after Sarah's surgery, every possible post-operative complication had reared its head. But Mrs. Schwartz can now comfortably say, "It's just great to see her like this."

Mrs. Schwartz spends a few moments more talking to Mrs. T., listening to her account of Sarah's emergency visit to the hospital the previous Shabbos — the sudden swelling around her daughter's eyes was deemed not serious — and acknowledging her concern that today's treatment might adversely affect her daughter's newfound appetite, not only for food but for life.

A quick question to ascertain whether Mrs. T. has food for the day, and Mrs. Schwartz is ready to move on. "See ya soon, Sarah," she waves at the toddler, already making her way towards a room further down the hall.

A camper's smile says it all.

"What do you need? How can I help?" The picture here is far less bright. The previous week, doctors informed Mrs. M. that there was nothing more they could do for her four-year-old son. Mrs. M. was not alone when she got the devastating news; though most of her family and friends live on another continent — in hope of a cure, Mrs. M. had brought her son to the best doctors in New York — Mrs. Schwartz was there, holding her till her sobs quieted, crying right along with her. "That's what she needed from me right then."

Afterwards, Mrs. Schwartz made arrangements for the counseling and therapy Mrs. M. would need in the weeks ahead. "That and her faith in the Ribbono Shel Olam will help her cope with this tragedy."

Along with her direct practice with children and families, Mrs. Schwartz handles medical referrals for Chai Lifeline. She also acts as a liaison between patients and hospital administrators. In addition, together with Toni Cabat, Chai Lifeline's director of family services, she screens and trains the organization's hundreds of volunteers.

Wish-at-the-Wall takes cancer survivors on an unforgettable trip to Israel. It is an opportunity to give thanks to Hashem.

"It's hard to categorize what Chai Lifeline volunteers do," says Raizel Goldberger, who oversees the program. "And it's impossible to classify them in terms of background, age, or profession. They're homemakers and working women, students and teachers, and businessmen and retired senior citizens who will do whatever it takes to make the going a little less rough for our children and their families."

"Whatever it takes" includes driving patients and family members to the hospital. "Whatever it takes" means bringing food to parents unable to leave a child's bedside. "Whatever it takes" involves relieving a mother and father at their child's bedside for a few hours. "Whatever it takes" entails seeing to the needs of siblings who remain at home. "The volunteers are the backbone of the organization," says Mrs. Goldberger with pride.

Each year, Mrs. Goldberger organizes the mammoth Honey Engel Chanukah Toy Drive. Tens of thousands of toys are collected for distribution in hospitals throughout the United States. The extraordinary dedication of everyone involved in the project captured the attention of Channel 7 Eyewitness News in New York last winter. At five a.m. on a frigid morning, a camera crew was dispatched to Borough Park, Brooklyn, to film volunteers at toy drive headquarters.

Arts and Crafts at last winters retreat.

A separate program, Louis Wertenteil Heart-to-Heart, provides "big brothers" and "big sisters" for seriously ill children and their siblings. These volunteers are primarily recruited from among Camp Simcha counselors. They maintain relationships with Chai Lifeline kids throughout the year. In addition to supervising special trips and outings to ball games and other recreational events, big brothers and sisters organize and host an annual family Purim gala.

But it's the little things they do — the phone calls just to say "hi," the birthday cards, the visits — that mean the most to these kids, says support service coordinator Suzie Benzaquen. "Just knowing there's a friend who's eager to share a joke or a secret, to celebrate a victory, to commiserate with a setback, has a large bearing on the sick child's outlook."

Vicki O. attests to Heart-to-Heart's impact. After each of his two stays at Camp Simcha, Micah — now seven years old — talked incessantly about his big brothers. "It means so much to him that they keep in touch. I can't say enough about these young men. Every Friday night when I light candles, I say a prayer that Micah should grow up to be just like them." Chai Lifeline runs an annual trip to Disney World, sponsored by the Ohr Meir Foundation, and the big brothers and sisters play a vital role. "From the moment he got to the airport and saw them waiting there with tee-shirts and balloons and spending money, my son knew this trip was going to be everything he'd imagined," says Mrs. P. Eight-year-old Shimmy had undergone surgery to drain a brain abscess only months before the trip. It was the promise of Disney that helped get him through a difficult period of rehabilitation.

Face painting is among Camp Simcha's activities.

The Disney retreat, points out Rabbi Scholar, is a great example of Chai Lifeline's commitment to "making a seriously ill child's life as normal as possible. A sick five-year-old dreams about shaking Mickey Mouse's hand just as a healthy one does. If anything, a trip to the Magic Kingdom means more to these kids, because it represents an escape, albeit a brief one, from a pretty grim reality."

That was the thinking behind an undertaking launched last year by Chai Lifeline-Chicago. Called Wish-at-the-Wall, the project takes young cancer survivors on an unforgettable trip to Israel. Says Chai Lifeline-Chicago director Moshe Turk, "This is an unparalleled opportunity for kids, fresh from the front lines in the battle against cancer, to refresh their bodies and renew their spirits. And no matter what their level of observance or Jewish affiliation, it is an opportunity to give thanks to Hashem for having survived."

"Chai Lifeline's growth has been dictated by need, pure and simple." — Rabbi Simcha Scholar

The benefits of spiritual and physical renewal are available not only to the stricken child but to the entire family at Chai Lifeline's annual winter retreat. "There is no question that the degree to which a family copes with a cancer diagnosis dramatically affects the patient and the outcome of his or her illness," says Toni Cabat. Thus the weekend retreat addresses the emotional, social, and spiritual needs of each family member through lectures, discussions, uplifting Shabbos meals, sports activities, and more.

For the young father of a daughter diagnosed at six weeks with an optic nerve tumor, the retreat proved an unexpected source of strength. Reluctant at first to let down his guard with strangers, he was soon chatting easily with other parents, getting tips from those who'd been contending with childhood cancer far longer than he had. By weekend's end, he had made friends whose support he could count on if ever he hit a rough patch in his daughter's treatment and recovery.

Chai Lifeline also sponsors an annual bereavement retreat, which focuses on helping parents cope with the agonizing pain of losing a child. "The bereavement process is not an easy one," says social worker Michelle Cohen. "It's like opening a wound in order to cleanse it and help it heal. It really hurts. No one should have to go through it alone." Which could well be Chai Lifeline's motto.

"Twelve years ago, we had a real fight on our hands; there were people out there who didn't believe cancer should come out of the closet," Rabbi Scholar remembers. "But we knew that if we didn't get it out in the open, a sick child would have no hope of a normal childhood, and his family would have nowhere to turn for help. The fact that Chai Lifeline is today a well-known name in the Jewish community is a measure of our success in that struggle."

A counselor and a camper at Camp Simcha.

Rabbi Scholar admits that Chai Lifeline faces several uphill battles. "It's a constant financial struggle to maintain the high quality of our services, and an intellectual struggle to determine where to most effectively expand them," says Rabbi Scholar. Besides Wish-at-the-Wall, this past year the organization, in cooperation with the Board of Jewish Education, introduced ChaiLink. This project connects homebound and hospital-bound children to their classrooms through technically sophisticated video/teleconferencing systems.

Chai Lifeline's staff has seen death too often. Ultimately, Rabbi Scholar says, "No matter how many times it happens, it's an emotional struggle for us to accept the loss of a child." But the success stories are there too — the many children who grow up, get married, and come around to show off their new babies.

That nachas, says Rabbi Scholar, makes it all worthwhile.

Chanie Friedman is the Managing Editor of Agudath Israel's Coalition magazine.

Chai Lifeline gratefully accepts donations. Please make your check payable to Chai Lifeline/Camp Simcha. Mail to: Chai Lifeline, 48 West 25th St., 6th Floor, New York, NY 10010.