Not long ago, Feigi sent me to Seven Mile Market with a Shabbos shopping list. Unfortunately, I have had great difficulty with mobility recently and find it necessary to use a cane or a walker. A shopping cart is actually very helpful. Unfortunately, however, my left foot is sometimes especially painful around the knee. I later found out that this happened because I was advised to put a pad in my left shoe because that leg foot was a little shorter than the other. This “cure” upset the muscles and has caused me weeks of pain, which ebbs and flows.
Last Friday, I was in the middle
of the store when I realized that every step I took was painful. I could not
continue shopping, even using the cart as a walker. But I was trapped. I didn’t
feel able to walk out of the store all the way to my car, and I was only
partially finished with the shopping list. What to do?
I approached one of the workers
and asked him if I could sit down while he shopped for me. He said, “Sure.”
Before he could start, one of the Jewish workers came over and said he would do
it. He recognized me, but I didn’t know his name. I later found out it was
Aharon Paige. This fine young man took my list and seamlessly gathered all the
items, took my credit card, and checked out for me. Then, he slowly but firmly
helped me walk to the entrance to reach my car. Realizing that every step was
torture, he suggested I give him the keys, and he drove my car to the front and
helped me get in. This young man was there for me when I really needed him, I
have much hakaras hatov (gratitude).
This incident is only one example
of what a wonderful community we are blessed to live in. First of all, Seven
Mile Market is not just any grocery store. I fondly remember owner Hershel
Boehm’s parents and how well they treated customers. I have known Hershel “forever.”
I remember him joking, when he was a bachur, that there is a pasuk
that says he has to help his mother in the store, Jacks, on Friday’s: “Azov
ta’azov imo.” The verse means you should help another person with his
animal’s burden. Hershel has a sense of humor, and he “teiched” the word
“imo” to mean “his mother.”
Seven Mile Market is “heimish.”
It is like the “gates of the city” in Megillas Rus, where everyone gathers. One
sees everyone and feels part of a warm, friendly community So, it isn’t an
anomaly that when I asked for help, it was immediately given, above and beyond
what was asked.
Thankfully, this is but one
example of how I have been treated since my mobility has waned. I go to Shomrei
Emunah twice daily, six days a week. I attend a shiur by Shlomo Horwitz
each morning and another by Shlomo Shulman each evening. The members of the shiur
are like mishpacha to me. They help me without being asked. One of the
beloved members of the morning shiur is Mendy Vim, who is in his 90s. Members
of the shiur vie for the opportunity to bring him hot chocolate. Lately,
several have, on their own initiative, brought me, too, a cup of freshly brewed
coffee. I wonder how we survived the long galus before shuls had coffee
machines and other nosh.
In short, my life is enriched by
living in a warm and inviting community. Baltimore is a city of achdus (unity),
and we are so blessed by the rabbinic and lay leadership of our kehilla.
This was brought home to me recently because I was sitting shiva for my
sister, Elsie Blum of Fort Worth, Texas, who passed away at the age of 95. I
was only able to go to the funeral because Feigi and our daughter Estie both
took off from their jobs and escorted me to catch an early morning flight and to
return after the funeral that same evening. By the time we returned,
Misaskim had prepared the home for shiva. Wonderful volunteers came and
took care of everything, even covering the mirrors and bringing a sefer Torah.
They did it with such openhearted familial warmth – mamash mishpacha.
When one sits shiva, one of
the goals of consolation is the realization that you are not alone. Besides my
devoted family members, I was honored by the people who came to be menachem
avel – a real cross section of our community. We were able to have a minyan
every time, except once. That was because Rav Asher Weiss was speaking, and I
guess everyone went to hear him. I was told that there is an organization to
help get that tenth man, but I let it go. The Gemara teaches in Daf Yomi, “Kol
harou’i lebila, ein bila me’akeves” – if it’s fit to be done,
actually doing it is not always necessary. If I know that there are people out
there ready to help me with a shiva minyan or any other help I may need,
to me, it’s as if they actually did it.
In conclusion, we are so fortunate
to be Jews. We are a small nation but a big family. Baruch Hashem, the
acute pain of that shopping trip has ebbed, and I am able to get around better.
My life is filled with blessings, and every day, I get to join 50,000 fellow
Yidden doing the Daf with Reb Eli Stefansky online.
Thank you, Hashem.
