A MENTCH—IN THE GREATEST SENSE OF THE WORD

                                                                                                                                                                By Chaya Tavin

      Thursday is my "day off". No lack of things to do. Been juggling a few minor crises- most of them not mine, but it takes it's toll. But I had to do something important. I had to say thank you to Sheldon's family.

      Sixty six years ago in New York, when a couple had a child with Down syndrome, they were told in no uncertain terms that the child would amount to nothing, that he should be left in an institution, forgotten. Most people listened. Most people didn't know any better. But Mr. and Mrs. Goldstein knew better. After hearing the same dismal prognosis and the same heartless advice from doctor after doctor, Mrs. Goldstein proclaimed "these people would take a dog or cat from the street but they would abandon their own children? WE don't listen to such people!" They took their son home. And they raised him to be a mentch. The beloved candy man in shul, Uncle and great uncle to a crew of loving kids, recipient of countless awards and certificates of appreciation for volunteer work  both in NY, and later in Israel.

      When his older brother was ready to get married, he added a condition to his proposal. The condition? Simple. And non-negotiable. When the time comes that my parents can no longer care for my brother, Sheldon will live with me. The young Kallah- to- be agreed. And years later, she welcomed her brother in law in to her home. It wasn't always easy, but she did it with a full heart. She did it  in NY, and later in Israel, when the young couple, now grandparents themselves, moved to be closer to their grandchildren.

      I was first introduced to my friend's Uncle Sheldon years before BD was born. He was a pleasant personable man, clearly happy to be visiting his great nieces and nephews. I heard the story of his parents clarity of thought- he may not become scholar, but he will be a mentch. When BD was born I thought of Sheldon. Of how much a part of his family he always was- of what a warm pleasant person he was, of what a mentch he was. And I told myself, that IY"H BD, too would grow up to be a fully accepted member of his family and his community. And he would be a mentch (OK, we are working on that part....). Sheldon was an inspiration, not because he knew all of Tanach by heart or spoke seven language- he didn't- but because he was everything his parents set out for him to be- a fine human being, a good Jew  accepted in his community (after it became difficult for him to do alone, the local kids used to help him lay tefillin in the school minyon in which he dovened until recently), a beloved Uncle, a giving person (he won an award a few years back for his volunteer services in a thrift shop in the city of Ra'anana- this was not a special needs award but an annual city wide award).A mentch. In the greatest sense of the word

      Sheldon passed away Sunday evening peacefully in his sleep, in the home of his brother, who has cared for him in one capacity or another for 66 yeas. When people expressed surprise at how much Dr. Goldstein has done for Sheldon his response was simply, he is my bother. To him, it was obvious.

      Really, I felt lousy this morning. I was not excited about the traffic on the Tel Aviv Jerusalem highway. And I had tons of phone calls to make to try to ease those crises. But I went to say thank you to Dr. Goldstein. Because it is people like him whose unwavering devotion and quiet respect for people with disabilities, decades before the battle cry of "inclusion" and "people first language", has made it so much easier for people like me to even hope to realize our dreams for our own children.

      Thank  you Dr. Goldstein. May the memory of your unassuming yet trailblazing parents a"h, your Eishes Chayil a"h, and your loving and much loved brother a"h,  be blessed.