Community Views
Editor's Notebook
Each Of Us
Touches Many Lives
Apple Cider Calls
And Tradition Is Today
RABBI DAVID NELSON SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH NEWS
ELIZABETH APPLEBAUM ASSOCIATE EDITOR
She was 6 years
old; he was 29. She
had never been to
school; he had com-
pleted post-gradu-
ate work in
psychiatry. She
was black; he was
white. She
was from the
South; he was from the
North.
Yet their lives were in-
trinsically bound to each oth-
er because he was inspired
by her in a way that defined
his entire career, a fact that
at that time she could have
only vaguely understood.
In November 1960, Dr.
Robert Coles was an Air
Force psychiatrist stationed
in Biloxi, Miss. He watched
as proud Ruby Bridges, then
only 6, marched with a sur-
rounding guard of white
marshals and became the
first black student to inte-
grate the Mississippi school
system. It was a moment in
history, a dramatic event in
life changes. Even Norman
Rockwell was touched by the
event and painted it. Charles
Steinbeck was inspired by it and
described the moment in his book
Travels With Charley.
Dr. Coles marveled at Ruby's
courage and struggled to under-
stand it. And, as a result, he wrote
the book Children of Crisis: A
Study of Courage and Fear. It
was published in 1964. The sec-
ond volume of Children of Crisis
was based on Ruby's parents'
lives as sharecroppers. In fact,
more than a decade later, Dr.
Coles' writing was still being in-
fluenced by the courage of this
young black girl who faced a
screaming mob dressed in her
best white dress because that's
"what her parents wanted her to
do."
When Dr. Coles writes in The
Moral Life of Children, he de-
scribes Ruby's sense of herself as
"just trying to go to school, yet
aware that she was walking
through a mob to help other peo-
ple. 'I was their Ruby, too."
Dr. Coles says his life has nev-
er been the same. "She is my
touchstone. If I hadn't seen her
and what happened, I would have
just gone on. I was thunder-
struck by the threatening
nature of that mob and her
stoic dignity." And this mo-
ment changed his life.
And what of Ruby
Bridges? She grew up, had
a family, went to work as a
travel agent. Then, two
years ago, her youngest
brother was murdered and
she took in his four daugh-
ters. Though they soon re-
turned to their own mother,
Ruby wanted to continue
helping, not only them but
others as well. So she be-
came a volunteer at John
Lewis Middle School, help-
ing parents and grandpar-
ents and aunts learn how to
talk to teachers and help
their children in school.
That's the key. We never
know when our actions will
inspire another person, so we
must always act in a way that is
worthy of inspiring others. If we
can do this, we can all rest as-
sured that our lives will be a
blessing. ❑
David Nelson is rabbi of
Congregation Beth Shalom.
Honoring Our Deceased
RABBI AVIE SHAPIRO SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH NEWS
I
t was April of 1989. I had just
returned from sitting shiva in
Baltimore for my dear father.
There was a phone call from
Herb Kaufman informing me
that one of the residents at Fleis-
chman Residence had passed
away, but not before informing
his nephew that he wanted me to
officiate at his funeral.
That phone call launched me
into the world of funeral officiating.
I have witnessed much.
I have also acquired a sense of
frustration resulting from the
conduct of the community at fu-
nerals, be they at a chapel or at
graveside.
Our in-town chapels, as well
as the on-site chapel at Mach-
pelah, each have a room desig-
nated as the "family room." To
my way of thinking, the purpose
of this area was originally in-
tended so that the family of the
deceased would have the priva-
cy to grieve without the intrusion
of observation and interruption.
After all, at the height of one's
personal grief over the demise of
a beloved arent or other famil
member, how many of us can car, and leave the deceased, who
maintain such a high degree of was either a friend or a relative,
concentration, to remember the just suspended there in mid-sir?
heartfelt and yes, well-inten-
I was raised to believe that the
tioned comments of friends who soul of the deceased is aware of
are "calling on us" to express their what is said about it in the eulo-
sentiments of consolation?
gy, and is itself consoled by the
The sages understood human treatment which it receives dur-
nature and our emotional limita- ing the course of the funeral ser-
tions so dearly, that they knew how vice. The judgment of the
difficult (impossible) it is to accept individual does not commence un-
the most beautifully expressed til the grave is refilled with earth.
wishes of condolence before having
In other words, "It ain't over
first experienced the psycho-emo- until it's over." And it's not over
tional benefit of the closure which until the last shovel of earth has
one internalizes at the actual bur- been laid onto the grave.
ial and sealing of the grave.
At how many services are
That brings me to my final those in attendance encouraged
point: Picture if you will that you to assist with the shoveling, out
are in attendance at the final seg- of a sense of love and respect for
ment of a funeral service out at the deceased.
the cemetery. You hear the rab-
We should come to show our
bi or the funeral director say: love and respect for the deceased,
"Ladies and gentlemen, this con- not to turn our backs at the most
cludes our service. You may now vulnerable time of their earthly
return to your cars." Before leav- existence.
ing the site to return to your ve-
Rabbi Avie Shapiro is director of
hicle you take one final look at religious activities at
the location of the grave. What Fleischman Residence, Jewish
do you see?
Home for Aged.
H_o_w_can_yo u eturn t o_v
❑
Whenever this
time of year
comes around —
just before Rosh
Hashanah and
Yom Kippur, and
with my favorite
holiday, Sukkot,
just weeks away
— I begin to feel
a kind of excitement and new-
ness, but mixed, curiously, with
a sense of the past, too: of his-
tory, tradition and memory.
It starts for me with a change
in the weather. I love those days
when it's cool enough for a
sweater but too warm for a coat.
I love it when the leaves begin
to turn colors and fall, silently,
forming a red-and-brown- and-
green blanket that covers the
earth.
I love going to cider mills and
apple picking and making blue-
berry jam which my daughter
says, "we will save for the win-
ter," something she remembers
from one of her favorite books,
Blueberries For Sal.
Because of Rosh Hashanah I
find that fall, not spring, brings
me a sense of new beginnings —
and with it, the belief in the pos-
sibility of everything:
What kind of a
legacy is going to
the mall on
Shabbat?
This year, my son will actual-
ly start sleeping all night and I
will learn what the radiator is
and how it functions. I will study
a little Torah every day, and I
will try to be patient even with
those who I am confident want
nothing more than to drive me
crazy.
I have to confess I don't re-
member what specific vows I
made last year or in years past,
though I know I made them.
What I do recall, though, and
hope I will never forget, is the
sense of continuity I feel each
holiday — and every day of the
year.
Often during an interview, or
even in casual conversation, I
hear Jews lament the lack of tra-
dition in their lives. It usually
begins something like, "Living
in a close-knit Jewish commu-
nity, when my mother always
fixed chicken soup for dinner Fri-
day night and I went with my fa-
ther to shul, those were the good
old days."
Or else they speak about Jew-
ish life in the shtetl as though it
were some kind of paradise,
when in fact the vast majority of
Jews in eastern Europe lived in
terrible poverty, in fear of
pogroms or attacks from their
anti-Semitic neighbors.
But I know what it is they're
trying to say: that the shtetl was,
at least, a place where you could
count on tradition and values be-
cause they were a part of everyday
life. Cholent and gefilte fish were
Shabbat lunch, your family was
the center of the universe, and it
was a privilege when you got your
first pair of tefillin. You didn't wor-
ry whether your children would
marry Jews or know how to read
Hebrew, or wonder if they would
find Judaism relevant.
I've yet to hear anyone de-
scribe those "old days" as awful,
though it's strange to me that so
many regard them nostalgical-
ly and with a kind of painful
longing, as if they were a part of
history that can never be recap-
tured. I find it odd because I, as
well as many of my friends and
colleagues, continue to live this
way, and it is as wonderful as
your memories.
Now don't get me wrong —
there are many aspects of the sec-
ular world that I would not want
to do without. I am addicted to
certain classical music, I enjoy
films that have nothing to do with
Judaism, and I confess I like read-
ing about Hollywood stars and
their favorite get-aways.
But the Judaism always
comes first. I wouldn't see a con-
cert on Friday night even if it
was my favorite, Vaughn
Williams'The Lark Ascending,"
and I'll wait until Sunday to buy
a magazine, even one promising
news of Jimmy Smits' favorite
reading material.
Why? The reason is simple:
because I cannot imagine mak-
ing either my priority over my
Judaism and that sense of tra-
dition and family I have every
time I observe Shabbat.
Yes, going to the mall on Sat-
urday may be easier than being
shomer Shabbat. But it's not
much of a legacy to pass on to
our children. Who, ever, in his
entire life, heard someone
lament, "How I wish my parents
hadn't prepared a delicious meal
and spent time playing games
with us and teaching us Torah
on Shabbat, but instead took us
shopping on Saturday!" or ex-
claim, "Watching television on
Saturday morning and then go-
ing to the mall — I'll never for-
get that for as long as I live!"
On Rosh Hashanah we make
vows, we think of a new future,
we hold on to the power and
beauty of tradition. But we
shouldn't think of this only in the
past, as a way of life that died in
the shtetl or remains only with
a few families in Oak Park.
Tradition is not just the "good
old days." It can be now. ❑