All In The Name of Chesed
By Tziri Frank
It is a remarkable fact that the amount of Chesed that is performed worldwide in the year 2005 is nothing short of miraculous. Perhaps most meaningful to me, is the amount of caring benevolence that is extended to the special needs child, and their families, in our enlightened society of today. On numerous occasions I have literally been stopped in my tracks by selfless acts of kindness that was extended to my Yossi, and by extension, to me.
Like the time I arrived early one morning at the hospital, during the long year that Yossi spent there.
“Let’s eat breakfast,” I sang out as I entered the room.
Abruptly, I stopped dead in my tracks when I spied the obviously eaten breakfast tray that still lay on the bedside table. Squinting suspiciously at the empty mealtime dishes, I eyed my very handicapped son who is utterly incapable of feeding himself. However, the dirty dishes were obvious proof of a morning meal that had been eaten. Not one to make assumptions, I quickly barged over to the nurses station.
“Someone has stolen Yossi’s breakfast!” I announced emphatically.
With that I had the attention of the entire children’s ward.
“Yes, I came this morning instead of this afternoon, because I have a day off from teaching. I was hoping to give Yossi breakfast, because I know that you are so busy,” I explained (hoping to appear like the devoted mother that I am), “but when I got to Yossi’s room, I discovered an empty tray! Some very hungry person obviously stole his pureed Kosher gruel!”
“Uh…Mrs. Frank,” began the nursing supervisor, “I really don’t think that sort of crime could happen here at the Montreal Children’s Hosptial.”
“Well, of course not,” interrupted Jean-Marie, Yossi’s kindhearted French Canadian steady nurse, “that tall, distinguished, busy, mother of six was here this morning, just like she has come every morning for the past nine months.”
“Huh,” said I.
“Yes,” continued Jean-Marie in her heavily accented English, “this philanthropic woman comes in every morning before 8 am to make sure that Yossi is fed breakfast. She says she does it so early to make sure he is fed before he should feel hungry. I do so enjoy watching as she lovingly interacts with him during the morning meal. Don’t you know anything about that?”
But I did not. For months, this busy woman had been giving Yossi breakfast each morning, and she never said a word to me, though we often saw each other at community events. Yes, as I mentioned earlier, the Chesed that can be found in the world today is truly awe-inspiring and nothing short of amazing. But truthfully, Chesed is not limited to any specific demographic. In every corner of every Jewish community Gemachs abound offering an array of items, tefillos, and good will towards all fellow men. From all ages, cultural groups, and tax brackets, individuals generously donate time and talent to performing charitable acts of kindness, often to perfect strangers.
Which is why some “acts of Chesed” seem so surprising…
“Mommy, can I be in the choir?” asked my seven-year-old daughter very early one Sunday morning.
“Can it wait an hour of so?” I mumbled deep within the confines of a dream.
“Ok,” she said agreeably. And she sat down on the edge of my bed to wait. Ten minutes later, she nudged me again, “Mommy, can I be in the choir now?” she asked.
With a sigh I got up to find out what was going on. With a few carefully probing (OK, nosy) questions, I found out that at Bnos the day before, a neighbor had mentioned joining a choir. Practice was being held that morning, with the incentive of individual bags of Super Snacks being offered as a reward for spending a Sunday morning singing.
“Sorry to wake you up,” I apologized when I called the neighbor’s house at 7:45am, “But exactly where and when is this choir practice?”
Silence.
“Hey, wake up sleepy-head!” I shouted into the receiver, “you’ll have plenty of time to sleep after 120 years! For now, there are places to go, things to do, and songs to sing, so please” and here I softened my voice, “let’s just arrange a carpool (again!) for practice.”
“I don’t know how to tell you this,” came the apologetic voice at the other end of the line, “but…well…the thing is…if you don’t already have the information, …then, uh I’m afraid that means that you aren’t included.”
HUH???
“Just exactly what is this choir for?” I asked in my dangerously soft tone.
“Oh, it’s a Chesed project where some organization is going to make a really professional performance, rent out the largest auditorium in the neighborhood, charge a “fairly decent” price for admission, raise lots of money, and then,” here she paused breathlessly, “and then, they’re going to take all this money, and all the kids who spend so much time practicing for the choir, and, oh yes, and a group of special needs children - to an amusement park for the day! Isn’t that beautiful?”
“Well, yes, if you’re part of it,” I said pointedly, “how did your daughter get included?”
“Oh that,” she laughed a little self-consciously, “ well, you see, she was asked to join a choir last year for another Chesed organization that did a similar project to raise money for a school in Russia. The woman who ran that one is a neighbor of my brother and sister-in-law.”
“How come I never hear about the auditions for these things?” I wondered out loud.
“Uh…, actually there aren’t auditions. You have to be invited to join,” came the knowledgeable response.
“Invited to join a Chesed project?” I asked incredulously.
“Well, yes,” came the defensive reply, “I mean if everyone was allowed to take part, a child (and her parents) wouldn’t be considered anything special if they were involved. Then, no one would ever want to join the choir! I mean, just think, what would happen to all the potential Chesed that would never be done then?”
This left me too stumped for a reply, so I just quietly hung up. And I called my “I-Can-Complain-About-Anything-To-You” friend.
“Mommy’s not home,” said her five year old around a mouthful of Cheerios.
“Where could your mother be at 8:00 on a Sunday morning?” I demanded.
“She went to do Chesed for…” came the reply that was abruptly cut off by the anxious sounds of “Sh!!!” and frantic footsteps could be heard approaching. Seconds later a wary male voice came on the line.
“Can I help you,” asked my friend’s husband.
“Yes, what is this Chesed all about,” I asked.
“Well…,” began Mr. “I Can’t Believe I Got Caught In The Middle of This Mess”, ”maybe you should just call her cell phone to find out.”
So I did.
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this,” said my “Friend-Whom-I-Now-Realized-Needed-to-Be-Reevaluated”,” a group of “us” are on our way to visit someone in the hospital who just gave birth to a special needs child.”
“Oh, I wish you would have told me,” I interrupted, “being the mother of a special needs child myself, I could really offer some helpful advice.”
“Yes, well see the thing is…” continued my “So-Called Friend”, “’we’ decided that you are such a go-getter, such a doer, such a make-it-happen kind of person, that you didn’t need to join a group of us who are just too nervous to go alone to the hospital. You’ll probably organize something amazing all by yourself that will benefit not only the mother, but probably the whole family!” she added for good measure.
“Well yeah, I guess I could do all that”, I began in response to her compliments. Then I realized exactly what she had said, “But..but…I would have been so happy to join you!”
“You know ‘we’ thought of including you,” came the ready response, “but then ‘we’ decided more Chesed would be accomplished this way. And the amount of Chesed that could be accomplished, is, of course, the only important thing to consider, don’t you think!?!”
And with that she hung up leaving me to ponder the incongruity of a group of individuals doing Chesed for one person, while at the same time making another feel thoroughly discouraged and left out. As I went about the chores that Sunday morning, I mused on the disparity in the charitable acts of kindness, and the bad feelings these same kind deeds resulted in. All of a sudden I had become all too aware of an ironic twist to the numerous Chesed activities that are currently in vogue. On the one hand there is undoubtedly more benevolence being done for the people that need it, than ever before. On the other hand, there seem to be too many negative feelings that result from these same charitable acts. How often are group and/or individual activities couched under the umbrella of Chesed? How often does any group and/or individual stop to consider that by doing this “compassionate action” for one person or group, they are actually causing bad feelings for others?
I got a lot of scrubbing and cleaning done that morning as I pondered the dilemma, and I never did come up with a solution. Perhaps I would have, but I had to stop what I was doing to organize and lead a group of select individuals who were invited to a seminar on “Doing For Others” that was being held at a posh hotel, hosted by a large philanthropic organization. I was one of the lucky few to be invited to join an elite group of individuals who were chosen to do Chesed. I could always come back to this conundrum at another time, but for now I was off to do what I “had to do” (OK, what I wanted to do), all in the name of Chesed!