The Toddler Who Uplifted Jews Worldwide

This is the story of a little boy who uplifted Jewish communities throughout the world, and in Los Angeles in particular. His name was Michael Levi, and he was my little cousin. 

Michael’s family are Jews who escaped Iran so that their children and future generations could live in freedom and prosperity, rather than suffer from tyranny. His mother, Carolin, is my first (paternal) cousin; his father, Josh, is a longtime friend.

Josh and Carolin are two of the kindest, most down-to-earth people I have ever known. They were overjoyed when their first child, Michael, was born in 2020. But last year, Michael began struggling to maintain his balance. His parents knew something was wrong. On his second birthday, Michael was diagnosed with an aggressive and inoperable brain tumor. 

I’ll never forget Carolin’s voice when she told me the news. At the time, she was pregnant with her second child. I was stunned and saddened, and I knew Michael would need a special Tehillim (Psalms) group on WhatsApp so that Jews of all backgrounds could recite chapters for him around the clock. Sadly, I had participated in several such groups for others battling cancer, including my beautiful friend and teacher, Sharon Shenker, z”l, who passed away in January. 

Hundreds of Jews worldwide, including secular ones, quickly joined the WhatsApp group and began reading Tehillim in the merit of Michael’s refuah shleyma (complete healing and recovery in Hebrew). At precisely the time when I fell asleep in Los Angeles, in Israel — 7,500 miles away — Jews who had never met Michael or his family were reciting Tehillim for him. 

In the months that passed, Michael began grueling chemotherapy and radiation treatment, and became a big brother, as the family welcomed a second baby boy. Jews stepped up their efforts to pray for Michael, as well as to raise funds for his family to help cover the enormous costs of medical and childcare. We will be eternally grateful to the countless Jewish organizations that also helped make miracles for Michael and his family, including Rofeh Cholim Cancer Society in New York, and Bikur Cholim, Chai Lifeline, B’Yachad and Maman Nonprofit in LA. Of course, Children’s Hospital Los Angeles was a true blessing. 

Several months ago, on the advice of a local rabbi, 40 Jewish women committed to fully covering their hair in the merit of Michael’s complete recovery. To my amazement, they took on this mitzvah with love and discipline. Many of them hadn’t met Michael and his family. 

Some friends privately expressed skepticism to me, questioning whether it was right to suggest that if a group of people performed a mitzvah, a miracle would occur on Michael’s behalf. After all, G-d is not a celestial vending machine, and 40 straight days of hair covering was not a guarantee of anything. 

Carolin, in all her pain, wisdom and spirituality, had a response to such skepticism: The fact that those women committed to such a mitzvah helped her feel cared for and connected with others. It gave her hope. And that was enough.

Michael had many ups and downs. On January 1, he suffered a seizure and doctors predicted he would live for only a few more weeks. But he miraculously recovered from the seizure. The name “Chaim” was added to the beginning of his name, in the hope that his body would be infused with life. There were days when watching the effects of his treatment on his body tore his parents’ hearts in two; and there were days when he had more energy and, best of all, showed signs of his former healthier self — just another two-year-old boy, with all the lovable, maddening and momentous traits of toddlerhood.

At the end of the 40-day period, a lecture and reception was held so that women in our local community could honor those who had participated in the mitzvah of covering their hair. The luminous speaker and author, Sarah Pachter, shared profound wisdom from the Torah. But before Pachter spoke, Carolin surprised attendees and shared a few words. 

She thanked everyone, and then, looking into a crowd of worried faces, said that Michael’s doctors were stunned that he was still alive, and some of them described his condition as a miracle. Carolin told the hundreds of women in attendance that in the last 40 days, Michael had been more happy and energetic than she had ever seen him after his diagnosis. 

What prompts a woman to fully cover her hair on behalf of a sick toddler? Or for a couple to donate extra funds to a family in another city, or, for that matter, another country, whom they’ve never met? 

It’s the same bond that prompts thousands of people, regardless of their level of Jewish observance, to recite short (or long) verses of Tehillim at all hours of the day, whether they’re on a break at work, getting their kids ready for bed, or going for an early morning walk. 

It’s the eternal, unbreakable bond of Jewish communities for millennia, and it’s the reason why Jews will always exist. At the end of those 40 days, those women didn’t simply pull their hair coverings off; some of them shared that they had grown to love the commitment and wanted to maintain it.

In late June, Carolin told me that she wanted to throw Michael a small birthday party at the park. We both knew it had to be very special, and we secured his favorite foods, gifts, and even a list of his favorite songs, which my friend, Sarita Oberman, an engaging children’s singer, volunteered to perform. Carolin told me that it all made Michael so happy. 

Last week, on September 13, Michael Levi passed away at the age of three, two days before Rosh Hashanah. The heartbreak is indescribable. It’s safe to say that this is one of the lowest moments for our family in the 30 years since we’ve been in the United States.

But we’ve been amazed by the outpouring of love, prayers and good deeds from others in LA and around the world; there is a MealTrain, donations, and volunteer babysitters have already signed up to help Carolin and Josh care for Michael’s one-year-old brother. As for the Tehillim group, it’s still active; heartbroken Jews now are praying for Michael’s neshama to have an aliyah. At the burial, Josh said that those who prayed and performed mitzvot for Michael extended his life.

Experience has taught me that when your heart is broken, you should do an act of kindness for someone else. It seems counterintuitive, given that you need time to nurse your own wounds. But for some reason, offering kindness to someone else, while your own heart is shattered, is one of the only ways to recollect the pieces of your heart.

Michael Levi was a special little boy; kind, loving and deeply lovable. Some believe that he was a truly pure soul that needed to come back down to earth for a few years to complete a mission. 

Michael Levi was a special little boy; kind, loving and deeply lovable. Some believe that he was a truly pure soul that needed to come back down to earth for a few years to complete a mission. I can’t bring myself to ask why he is no longer with us; I am only reminded of an allegory a rabbi shared when my first cousin, Dr. Shabnam Torbati Kerendian, succumbed to cancer in 2015. She was a beloved wife, mother and pediatrician. Back then, the rabbi shared that life in this world is like the back of a tapestry: unpredictable, chaotic and often senseless. 

But the harmony of the World to Come, a world which we will hopefully enter after 120 years, but whose inner workings we will never know in this world, is like the front of a tapestry: peaceful, beautiful, and maybe, just maybe, something that finally makes a little sense. 

Gmar Chatima Tova.

Tabby Refael is an award-winning writer, speaker and weekly columnist for The Jewish Journal of Greater Los Angeles. Follow her on X and Instagram @TabbyRefael