Undead Preemie: didn't surviveIn a story that will likely be featured in pro-life literature for years to come, a baby that had been pronounced dead began breathing and showing vital signs hours later in Nahariya, Israel. A baby breathing hours after being pronounced dead—it’s a pro-life activist’s wet dream.

The baby’s mother was five months pregnant when tests showed that there was intrauterine bleeding, and that her fetus had no pulse. Doctors then initiated what’s being called a “second trimester termination procedure” the baby was delivered and pronounced dead. The baby was then sent to a cryogenics lab where she was put in a refrigerator, and five hours later, when the baby’s father asked to see it, doctors found that the baby showed signs of spontaneously breathing. She was rushed to the neonatal intensive care unit, but unfortunately she wasn’t able to survive for even 24 hours. Presumably this time, when doctors pronounced the baby dead they checked a little more thoroughly.

Here in America, pro-lifers are being forced to make a tough decision in the upcoming Presidential election, and pparently neither candidate has convinced hardliners that he’s the best choice.

At peaceAfter reading up on money and Jewish wills this morning, I stumbled on another related subject.  Something I knew absolutely nothing about… the Jewish tradition of leaving behind an ethical will.  Which is a term I’d never even heard before.

There is a lovely Jewish custom, one that is unfortunately not sufficiently known in our time, of writing what is called an ethical will. Parents would write a letter to their children in which they would try to sum up all that they had learned in life, and in which they would try to express what they wanted most for and from their children. They would leave these letters behind because they believed that the wisdom they had acquired was just as much a part of the legacy they wanted to leave their children as were all the material possessions. 

There are several online how-to guides for writing an ethical will.  But  basically, it’s pretty intuitive.  Because you’re just writing a heartfelt letter.  Rooted in the desire to leave something behind you, something to speak for you. Say all the things you forgot to say.

For me, a writer living in this digital age,  it seems especially important.  We DON’T write or receive enough letters today, and we forget how wonderful it to take out a creased piece of paper, and read words we’ve nearly memorized, and cry a little, because the concrete object is a reminder of the person we’ve lost.

Think about how much you’d like to receive an ethical will, and maybe you’ll be inspired to write one.  I can’t help imagining that in the sad cases I mentioned earlier today, the poor decisions people made in distributing assets… might not have mattered so much, if the departed had left a loving letter behind too.

I’m so totally totally doing this. I’m going to make it a new year’s resolution this spring. I’m going to write letters to all the people I love, and seal them up in a box. Just in case.

PS—If you want to see a famous example, here’s A Father’s Admonition, an ethical will from the 12th century.