I
will introduce this letter with the following quote from the Book of
Isaiah which we will chant on this Shabbos:
“Zion
said, ‘Hashem has forsaken me; the Master of All has forgotten me.’
Can
a woman forget her nursling, or not feel compassion for the child of
her womb? Even these may forget, but I will not forget you!”
(Isaiah 49:14, 15)
Dear Friends,
This
letter is dedicated to the memory of my beloved younger sister,
Dorothy Oboler, whose full Jewish name is Alta Chaya Yocheved Devorah
bas Shlomo. My sister’s yahrtzeit
– the anniversary of her passing – is on the 17th
of Av, which this year began on Tuesday night, the 23rd of July.
When my sister began to study Torah, “Devorah” became the first
name that she used the most.
Devorah
always had a passionate and loving concern for any suffering
individual or group that was being ignored or mistreated by others,
and she would arise on their behalf like a mighty warrior. She also
had an intense dislike of prejudice towards any group. These noble
character traits were reinforced by the ethical education that she
received from our leftist parents who also practiced what they
preached within their own lives.
When
Devorah was about 20 years old, she began to suffer from an illness
which was later diagnosed as a rare form of Muscular Dystrophy – an
illness which physically disabled her and which also caused various
complications which later shortened her life. Although her body
became very frail, she maintained her strong spirit. Her disability
caused her to be mostly homebound, and she therefore developed a
special sensitivity and concern for the needs of those who were in a
similar situation.
Even
before Devorah was stricken with this disability, she was a radical
rebel against the trend in modern western society to idolize youth,
physical beauty, and physical strength. She had the old-fashioned
Jewish appreciation of elders, spiritual beauty, and spiritual
strength, but most of the students at the public school she attended
did not have this appreciation. Many of them were also prone to
physical and verbal violence against others. These were the main
reasons why, at age 13, she decided that she wanted to go to a
Torah-committed high school.
She
initially had difficulty finding one that was prepared to accept her,
for she had little Torah education, and the administrators felt that
it would be difficult for her to follow the various Torah classes.
The one high school that lovingly welcomed her was the Beth Jacob
High School for girls, which was located in Williamsburg, Brooklyn,
and which was in the large Chareidi section of the neighborhood where
the majority of Jews were Chassidim. Most of the teachers and
students at Beth Jacob were also Chassidim. At first, it was quite a
culture shock for my sister, who had grown up in a family of leftist
social activists who were not traditionally observant. She was
pleased, however, that the staff and the students had spiritual
values which included an emphasis on doing acts of loving-kindness.
It was a relief for her to be at Beth Jacob, for the atmosphere there
was much more gentle, loving, and spiritual than the atmosphere at
the public school she had previously attended.
At
the beginning, it was a culture shock for the Chassidic teachers and
students to have my sister as a student in their school, as due to
her background, she questioned everything. Fortunately, her teachers
were wise enough to realize that her questioning was due to her
sincere searching, and not because she was disrespectful of their
beliefs and customs. They therefore began to admire her spirit, and
she experienced not only their love, but also their respect. As the
Mishnah in Pirkei Avos states in the name of Rabbi Elazar ben Shamua,
“Let the honor of your student be as dear to you as your own”
(4:15).
Our
mother was initially annoyed by the modest dress code at Beth Jacob,
and she planned to complain about it when she was scheduled to meet
with my sister’s teachers. The night of the meeting, my mother
became very inspired by a rebbe of my sister, Rabbi Yehoshua
Gudlevsky. His loving nature, his idealism, and his inner, radiating
holiness made a deep impression on her; in fact, she forgot about her
objections to the dress code! She also became interested in an
organization that Rabbi Gudlevsky founded called “Keren Hayeled”
– an organization devoted to helping needy children in Israel,
especially new immigrants, and to enable them to get a Torah
education. The material and spiritual help that Keren Hayeled gave to
these children also counteracted the efforts of Christian missionary
groups that would offer large sums of money to needy Jewish parents
who would agree to enroll their children in a missionary school. Both
of my parents had a respectful relationship with our Christian
neighbors, but they also had a healthy sense of Jewish dignity and
pride; thus, they were offended by Christian missionaries who would
try to wean Jews away from their heritage and faith. My mother
therefore asked Devorah and me to help her in collecting
contributions from various neighbors for the work of Keren Hayeled.
While
attending Beth Jacob, my sister also learned that Chassidim are not a
monolithic group. For example, within Williamsburg, there was the
large Satmar Chassidic community which had its own schools, and their
approach differed in some ways from the approach of Beth Jacob.
Devorah never became Chassidic, but throughout her life, she
maintained affection and respect for her Chassidic friends and
teachers.
After
my sister graduated from high school, she attended the Beth Jacob
seminary for teachers. She began to do some teaching; however, she
was not able to continue, due to the emergence of Muscular Dystrophy.
The severe symptoms of her illness prevented my sister, who had both
physical and spiritual beauty, from getting married. Her friends from
Beth Jacob got married and began to raise children, but they did not
forget my sister. They remained loyal friends throughout the years of
her suffering, and this was a source of comfort to her. A year before
Devorah passed away, she received a special honor from the members of
her Beth Jacob graduating class. They asked her to be the guest
speaker at the class reunion, and they hired a limousine to bring her
to the gathering in the Boro Park neighborhood of Brooklyn.
She
spoke to them about the dignity of the elderly and the disabled who
are often forgotten in our modern society, and she urged them to
become pioneers in the mitzvah of honoring these precious human
beings. She herself was a precious human being, and I miss her very
much.
In
honor of her memory, I would like to review with you some information
about the organization, “Yad
Sarah” – Israel’s
largest voluntary organization. It began as a mitzvah project of a
young Chareidi teacher, Rabbi Uri Lupoliansky,
who decided to acquire
and lend medical equipment, free of charge, to anyone who needed it.
He called the project “Yad Sarah” – the Hand of Sarah – in
memory of his grandmother, Sarah, who was killed in the Holocaust.
His grandmother was known for her acts of loving-kindness. (The word
“Yad” is also used as a term for a remembrance or a memorial.)
Today,
Yad Sarah has many lending stations throughout Israel where people
can borrow medical or rehabilitative equipment free of charge and
free of prejudice; thus, people of all faiths and nationalities use
its service. As the organization developed, Yad Sarah expanded its
program to include various service projects for elders, for
individuals with disabilities, the homebound, and other segments of
the population whose needs were not being met.
Yad
Sarah’s mission is to keep the ill and the elderly in their homes
and out of institutions as long as possible, for home care in their
natural environment with the help of family members, neighbors,
and/or volunteers is often the most conducive to healthy
recuperation, both physically and emotionally. It also costs both
family and State much less.
Yad
Sarah realizes that the family members who care for their loved ones
who cannot function on their own also need support. In order to
prevent burnout in the family members resulting from the heavy burden
of caring for their dear ones, Yad Sarah has recently begun a support
service for them including: strengthening the sense of security
and capabilities of family caregivers, providing tools for coping
with the patient’s functionality, teaching ways to provide
efficient care without wearing down the caregiver, and helping them
in exercising their rights. They also started a program in Jerusalem
where trained volunteers come once or twice a week to give family
caregivers a break. The purpose behind the project is two-fold: to
give family caregivers a chance to step out and care for their own
needs, and to provide, at the same time, a social experience for the
housebound patient.
The
Israeli government awarded Yad Sarah the Israel Prize in 1994 for its
unique contribution “to the Society and the State.” The prize
committee specifically cited its great impact on Israeli life and the
fact that it is completely non-sectarian and non-discriminatory in
providing help to all who need it.
Yad
Sarah is a Chareidi-sponsored organization which has brought together
volunteers from all the diverse communities living in Israel.
Orthodox Jews and non-Orthodox Jews, as well as volunteers who aren’t
Jewish, are working together in a spirit of unity to serve other
human beings who are in need. It is a project that has won
international acclaim, and officials from many countries have come to
Israel to study Yad Sarah’s innovative programs in order to see how
these services can be provided in their own countries.
I
will conclude this letter with a quote from the portion from the Book
of Isaiah which we will chant on this Shabbos:
“Listen
to me, pursuers of
righteousness,
seekers of Hashem: Look to the rock from which you were hewn, to the
quarry from which you were dug. Look to Avraham, your father, and to
Sarah, who bore you” (Isaiah 51:1,2)
“Look
to Avraham, your father, and to Sarah who bore you” – “Look at
them, and go in their ways” (commentary of Radak).
Have a Good, Sweet, and Comforting Shabbos,
Yosef Ben Shlomo Hakohen (See below)
Related Poem and Comments:
1. There was a period when my father and sister were considering the possibility of joining me in Israel. My sister was temporarily living in a Jewish nursing home, and she sent to my father the following poem:
I
do not know dear papa, what I ought to do;
My
choices seem so limited; my choices are too few.
I
can stay in this nursing home and get good care each day,
Or
move with you to Israel, a country far away.
I
am a young disabled woman and need people to help me.
But
though my body’s “shackled,” my soul yearns to soar free.
I
am a good American – I love this great country,
And
here I can get all the care my doctors want for me.
But
my soul is not American; my soul belongs to God;
Yet
this body versus soul war makes deciding all too hard.
When
I mention Israel, my body shakes “NO!”
While
my soul sighs for the “promised land” where “milk and honey”
flow…
One
thing is very certain, one thing is all too clear,
That
deciding not to go now means both must remain
“Here.”
Till
one day in the future, God softly calls for me;
My
bones can then be buried here; my soul finally gets free;
And
off it will swiftly soar to the place of drifting sand,
But
only see before it, God’s holy “promised land.”
2.
You can learn more about the work of Yad Sarah by visiting their
website: http://www.yadsarah.org
3.
Today, Keren Hayeled continues to do good work for children in
Israel. It provides a warm home for orphans, as well as for children
from dysfunctional families. Its programs and services are designed
to meet the physical, emotional, and spiritual needs of these
children. For information on the heartwarming work of Keren Hayeled,
visit: www.kerenhayeled.org/
.
A
contribution in memory of my sister can be made to any of the above
organizations.
Hazon
– Our Universal Vision: www.shemayisrael.com/publicat/hazon
