S

ebastian Mainster Dittman
loved Michael Jackson, the col-
or purple and Nintendo. He
cherished his blue blanket,
thought My Brown Bear Bar-
ney was a terrific book, and he
could make everyone in his

class laugh.
"Party!" he would shout when his teacher
left the room for a moment.
Sebastian lived in a 'cozy three-bedroom
home in Southfield with his 4-year-old
brother, Brandon, a friendly dog named
Sergeant, and his mother, Robin, who saved
virtually every drawing, every painting,
every scribble her son made.
Last May, one day after his sixth
birthday, Sebastian was diagnosed with
an inoperable brain tumor. Physicians
gave him less than a year to live.
In addition to the myriad visits to doc-
tors and hospitals, specialists and ex-
perts, Ms. Mainster made it a point to go
to Hillel Day School soon after her son's
diagnosis. She had a request.
"I'd like to enroll Sebastian in first
grade," she told Principal Rochelle
Iczkovitz. "I want my child to learn to
read before he dies."

H

e was born in
1988, and he
wanted to be an
artist or a rabbi
when he grew up. Or maybe
a comedian.
Sebastian was "an active,
loving spirit," his mother
says. "He had a great sense
of humor. He loved to color
and paint. He loved to run.
And he loved being Jewish."
When he was 4, Sebastian
was diagnosed with AMID,
Attention Deficit Disorder
with hyperactivity. His doc-
tors put him on Ritalin, then
Dexedrine. When he began
exhibiting curious symptoms
— headaches, stumbling,
problems swallowing — Ms. Mainster at
first attributed it to the drugs. "Then it got
to the point I knew that wasn't it."
After a series of tests, physicians on May
11, 1993, one day after Sebastian's sixth
birthday, gave their diagnosis. Sebastian
had a tumor in his brain stem. It was inoper-
able, they said, and probably fatal.
Initially, Ms. Mainster did not tell her son
he would die. She let him know doctors
couldn't operate, but they would try
chemotherapy and radiation. And in any
case, who knew that a miracle wouldn't oc-
cur? Perhaps Sebastian would be in that less
than 1 percent that survived.
Meanwhile, Ms. Mainster began to orga-

Sebastian, with

his bear, in the

Hillel class
photo.

nize: doctor appointments, a trip to Disney-
land from the Make-A-Wish Foundation (a
local group that grants the wishes of sick
children), more doctor appointments, a trip
to the hospital, more doctor appointments.
And in August, as Sebastian was in remis-
sion, a meeting with the principal of Hillel
Day School.
It was Sebastian himself who wanted to
go. He loved school (he attended kinder-
garten there the previous year) and loved
learning. "He wanted to know Hebrew so
badly," Ms. Mainster says.
Principal Rochelle Iczkovitz recalls, "My
only concern was how this would impact
on the other children."
What if Sebastian became terribly
sick at school or even died there, Mrs.
Iczkovitz wondered. Such trauma could
irrevocably affect other young students.
School officials consulted with Ira
Kaufman Chapel Funeral Director
David Techner, Rabbi E.B. Freedman of
the Hospice of Southeastern Michigan
and child therapists and social workers.
"It would have been so much easier to
say 'No,' " Rabbi Freedman says. But
they didn't.
Sebastian was allowed to
enroll in the first grade, at-
tending for a half-day only.
He would stay until he was
too ill to function.
Administrators all knew
right away who his teacher
had to be: Sheila Charlip.
Her classroom is a spec-
tacular little city of books
and posters, stuffed animals
and crayons, students tum-
bling in and out and all talk-
ing and laughing and
screaming: "Tell him to
leave me alone!" and "Can I
get a drink?" and "Where is
my book?" and "What are we
going to do now, Mrs. Char-
lip?"
"I love them," the teacher
says. "I love their excitement
and their energy, their free-
dom and their honesty. Their innocence."
Some teachers might have felt uncomfort-
able having a dying child in their class.
When Hillel administrators asked whether
Mrs. Charlip would be willing to do so, she
responded with one word: "Absolutely."
An only child, Sheila Charlip became a
teacher because she liked to babysit. She at-
tended Michigan State University, then
married and got pregnant immediately. (All
the Charlips' own five children attended Hil-
lel). She was close with Rabbi Jacob Segal,
the school's founder, who talked her into
coming to teach 33 years ago.
Sebastian, Mrs. Charlip says, "was an in-

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