Showing Blog Articles from Jul. 01, 2010 to Jul. 31, 2010

MOST RECENT

Hunger of the Spirit

When financial straits forced Yad Eliezer to consider closing the Big Brothers and Big Sisters program in 1999, word got around to Rav Chaim Kanievski. Rav Chaim, as he is affectionately known, is one of the greatest Torah scholars of his generation. The telephone rang in the Yad Eliezer offices one morning shortly after the decision had finally been made to close the program. It was Rav Chaim’s son.

“Here in Israel, people don’t die of physical hunger very often, but of spiritual hunger many die,” he relayed. Rav Chaim advised to do anything it took to keep the Big Brothers and Big Sisters program alive.

Back then the number of kids in question was only fifty or sixty. Now the number of kids with a Yad Eliezer mentor is over 3,500 and growing.

It’s easy to be wowed by the numbers, but what is more impressive is the cumulative effect this program is having on Israeli society. Since Yad Eliezer’s Big Brothers and Big Sisters program began in 1998, municipalities around the country have tracked significantly lowered crime rates for juvenile felony.

Want to have real impact on a troubled society? Take next year’s criminal and make him a positive, contributing member of the community instead.

“We purposefully work with the younger kids,” explains Zolly Tropper, CEO of American Friends of Yad Eliezer with his wife Sori. “Many mentoring programs only begin once the kid is in trouble, once they have hit thirteen to sixteen and already obviously need help. We get involved with kids ages seven to thirteen, before the symptoms have begun. We stop the trouble before it has begun.”

And families can barely express how grateful they are. Many Yad Eliezer kids struggle with troubled parents or absentee fathers. But some come from homes beset by circumstances beyond the parents’ control.

Take Aharon* whose widowed mother gave everything in her means to keep him off the streets, but still found herself swimming against the tide. When Aharon began yeshiva middle school, he started falling behind his class in Talmud study, one of the major focuses of the curriculum. Aharon might have become the class reject if it hadn’t been for his Yad Eliezer mentor who stepped in as a father figure in all respects, including Talmud tutor, at just the right moment.

Or take Leah* whose mother discovered the lump in her chest when she was six and whose later diagnosis and hospitalization sent the whole family into a tailspin. Leah missed her dad almost as much as she missed her mom since dad spent so much time driving back and forth to the hospital and managing bureaucracy between his regular working hours that she almost never saw him anymore. Leah could easily have become a statistic if her Yad Eliezer mentor hadn’t been there to shoulder the burden and provide a shoulder to cry on.

Yad Eliezer isn’t only there to alleviate physical hunger. The hunger of the spirit can be just as painful and just as destructive. Alleviate that and you see statistics changing, crime rates curbing, and kids wiping away their tears. Yad Eliezer kids have gone on to become rabbis, professionals, and leading members in their communities. It looks like Rav Chaim was right.



Written on Tuesday, Jul. 27, 2010. 4:22 AM
under Big Brothers and Big Sisters Program

| by Braha Bender    Back to top

Touching the Kotel From Far Away

The Kotel looms large and golden above you. You reach out your hand to touch the stones. Soft vibrancy runs through your body. You are touching the history of your people. You are connecting with eternity.

Now picture a very different scene. Penina*, a middle-aged single mother, lies in a hospital bed in theHadassah Ein Kerem Medical Center, miles away from the brilliant Old City. Her body is exhausted. Aches and pains assail her legs, her back, and other limbs. Treatment for cancer can be aggressive, dramatic, and above all, frightening.

Penina doesn’t know who she can turn to. Her children do the best they can to help, but they are coping with their own emotions. She wishes she could reach out and touch the soft, golden stones of the Kotel where all Israelis, and Jews from the world over, turn in times of trouble.

She remembers only a few months ago when she visited during after one hot summer day. Twilight was falling and a cool breeze was replacing the sweltering afternoon. Penina picked up a worn book of Tehillim (Psalms) and began to whisper the ancient words. Comfort coursed through her. She felt her heart beating within, the blood of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, a living connection with the God they had lived and died for.

Penina sighs as she remembers those days long ago. She had closed up the book of Tehillim with a smile, reached up to give the Kotel a final caress, and had started home content in the knowledge that she had made a connection with Someone greater than herself. But here in the cold halls of Hadassah Ein Kerem, G-d seems so far away.

Suddenly, Penina’s reverie is interrupted by the ring of a phone. The cell phone at her bedside has begun to vibrate urgently. Glancing at the screen, Penina sees the number of Rabbi Yitzchak Weingott, the director of Yad Eliezer’s Medical Support Program. When Penina was first admitted to the hospital, Yitzchak coordinated food boxes to aid her family while treatments ate away at their financial resources. He directed them to the Big Brothers and Big Sisters program where her children, especially her girls, received mentors to help them get through the hardest times they had ever faced.

Most importantly, Yitzchak had given Penina the most precious gift of all: hope. Sharing his own story of cancer and recovery, Yitzchak and Yad Eliezer had infused Penina with a new vision of how the future could be.

Penina reaches over to gingerly pick up the phone between weak fingers. “Yitzchak?” she greets him.

“Shalom Penina,” says Yitzchak Weingott, “I am standing by the Kotel. I will hold my phone up to the stones. Would you like to say a few words?”

Tears begin trickling down Penina’s face as Yitzchak’s kindness strikes at her heart. “It’s like you’re right here, Penina,” he tells her.

Penina wipes away her tears and smiles. The worst part of cancer, the fear, is over. Penina knows she is not alone. Yad Eliezer is there to help her. “How can I thank you?,” she whispers.
 
* Name changed for anonymity.



Written on Thursday, Jul. 8, 2010. 6:47 AM
under Medical Support

| by Braha Bender    Back to top