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Yad Eliezer's Big Brothers- Changing one life at a time

by Shalvi Weissman

Thursday, May 02, 2013

Eli Yakobi’s office makes an immediate impression. His two cell phones lie in front of him on his desk, next to the office phone. As he answers them in tandem while firing off an email, I take a moment to look around. The walls are ornamented with impressive certificates and awards from various government and private agencies. I wait my turn, expecting this busy man to give me some history and stories about the impressive project that he runs. I got that, and much, much more.



Yad Eliezer was established thirty years ago. When Hadassa Viezel sent her daughters and her friends to collect food for neighbors who were not able to feed their children, they had no idea what was going to become of their ‘little project.’ They soon realized that they had stepped into a vacuum of need, and Yad Eliezer, named after Hadassa’s father ballooned. In its first fifteen years, Yad Eliezer became known for providing food for the poor in the form of boxes of pantry essentials delivered on a monthly basis, and for subsidizing weddings. Today it runs a multitude of programs targeting various aspects of poverty in Israel.

Thirteen years ago a woman came into the office concerned for her neighbor who was not able to make ends meet. When a staff member went to the house to appraise the situation they witnessed extreme privation. The fridge was empty, and even the most basic items were missing. They spoke to the mother and offered her the monthly food delivery that they were known for, but the mother had a more urgent request. ‘Never mind the food. We can continue to survive on bread and margarine. What I really need is a man to mentor my son. I’m a single mother with no family or support. My ex-husband is totally out of the picture, and not interested in taking any responsibility for his children whatsoever. My son has no one ? no one to take him to shul, no one to learn with him, no one to teach him what it means to be a Jewish man. Food? I will somehow find enough to survive. But my son? What will become of him?’ Of course Yad Eliezer provided them with both. A warm and caring man was found to meet regularly with the boy, and that was the humble beginning of the Big Brother program.

A philanthropist heard this story and was deeply moved. He figured that if there was one boy like this who had found Yad Eliezer, there must be hundreds more who did not. (Little did he know that his initiative would bring this vital help to over 25,000 children.) He contacted the office and told them that he was sending $50,000 so that they could find more such boys and help them. A couple hundred pairs were soon arranged, and the experience was transformative: for the Big Brothers, the Little Brothers, and for the parents and families. As life goes, the money ran out. At that point Dov Viezel, the director of Yad Eliezer, turned to Rav Chaim Kanievsky. He didn’t have the funds to continue the program, but couldn’t imagine walking away after having seen the great need that the Big Brothers filled. The idea of cutting down the food distribution to fund the mentoring program was also heartbreaking. Rabbi Eli Yakobi tells me that while he was not yet working for Yad Eliezer at the time, the answer that Rav Chaim gave them has been a guiding light for him. The Rav told them, “Take the funds from the food boxes and mentor the children. I haven’t heard about people dying from physical hunger, but I hear all the time about people dying from spiritual and emotional hunger.” He then blessed them with success and that they have enough funding to continue both programs, and that is exactly what happened.

When Rabbi Yakobi began, 400 boys were being mentored, and his dream was to someday be able to help 600. Today there are a total of about 4,000 children currently in the program, and another 20,000 who have graduated. Currently the program is in its thirteenth year, and there are ‘little brothers’ who have grown up and become ‘big brothers’ themselves. The program is active in 35 cities, with regional directors, many of them teachers, principals, or community activists, who are familiar both with the children and the potential mentors in their hometown. They are instrumental in finding participants and matching them up. There are meetings in each city where the mentors get together for training and to share inspiration, as well as annual nationwide meetings with presentations by leaders in the fields of education and psychology.

I asked Rabbi Yakobi how much the mentors are paid for their time. His reply was much more than an amount. “I’ll tell you. I have a mentor in the north. He called me up and told me that he is on the way to the funeral of his young charge’s father, who had suffered many long hard months from cancer. Together they had been hoping and praying for his recovery throughout the ordeal. He wanted to know what to say to the boy. What could he possibly say? I put him in touch with a psychologist whom I trust, who told him that there are no answers, all he can do is be there for the boy. That is just what he did. He was there with him and for him, at the funeral, the whole week of the shiva, and afterwards. Tell me, can I pay for such a thing? Is the $120 dollars a month that I give that mentor payment for his heart and soul which he gave to that child?

The phone beeps, and Eli stops for a minute to answer a call from the mayor of Emanuel. I am already impressed by this busy man, juggling so many responsibilities with so much heart and vigor, but the next story, and the way he told it, taught me even more.

“I got a call from one of our mentors in Bnei Brak. He had invited his ‘little brother’ many times to join him and his family for Shabbos, but it was months before they heard the gentle knock on the door. When the boy finally did come, they asked him what had taken so long. He said that he had come to the door many times, but was too shy to knock. They welcomed him warmly, as they were touched that he had finally built enough trust to come to them. The meal was their usual pleasant Shabbat meal with plenty of singing and delicious food, and with all of the children happily participating. The father helped his wife clear the table and came back into the room to find the boy crying such heaving sobs that he couldn’t even talk. The father was horrified. Had someone offended him? Had he done something wrong? It took the boy a few minutes to calm down enough to get a few words out. ‘No, nothing’s wrong, you didn’t do anything wrong. Everything’s wrong... Why can’t my family be like this!? This is so beautiful! Why can’t I have this? Why is this the first time that I’ve seen a Shabbat like this?’ When the boy calmed down a little more he told them that in his house his father brings home a little food from a soup kitchen, his siblings fight over it, and when it is gone he goes out to the streets to find leftovers to tame his hunger. ‘Can you imagine?’ the father asked me. ‘He looked so normal, I had no idea!’”

Rabbi Yakobi is wiping tears from his eyes as he continues. He is telling me about the types of families that come to him, but I am having a hard time concentrating. I am flushed with my own emotion and touched by the concern of those who thousands daily and still see each as an only son.

“Do you understand? They come to us so broken, so bitter. They know nothing of trust and warmth. I have hundreds of orphans. Others’ parents are divorced, or one of the parents or siblings is battling illness. Many of the parents are new immigrants with no family support. Do you know what trust means to such a child? I thought I had heard it all, then I heard this...”

I try to compose myself and listen as he speaks, “A mentor in one of our cities was set up with a new boy. The family situation was very difficult, and the mentor was extending himself, trying very hard to connect with the quiet, shy boy. He asked him one day if there was anything in particular that he needed that perhaps he could help with. The boy answered, ‘Yes, I’m going to be bar mitzvah soon, and I have nothing ? no tefillin, no clothes, nothing.’ The mentor was touched and decided that he would make sure that the boy had a proper celebration. That night he sat down with his wife and the discussed the situation. He had a neighbor who was a sofer who he would ask to give him a discount, and they would turn to his and her families to raise money for the tefillin. He would ask Yad Eliezer to provide him with new clothes, and neighbors would be asked to take part in preparing the meal. For a hall, he would go in the morning to ask the head of the school to let them make the party in the dining room. When he approached the principal the following morning with his request, it was received with a raised eyebrow. ‘He told you that his bar mitzvah is when? His birthday is in a month, but it is his twelfth.’ He had the secretary call they boy in. When he arrived, he confessed that he had misled his mentor, but explained, ‘I was afraid the program would close and you would disappear from my life as quickly as you came. I figured it would be best to have my bar mitzvah now while I have a chance...’ Can you imagine? Just think what this boy’s life had taught him about trust. When I heard that story I travelled to the town and sat down with the mentor, the principal and the boy and promised him that come what may, he would have a nice bar mitzvah in the right time.

“Do you arrange mentors for girls as well?”

“Our girls’ program is younger but growing quickly.”

“Where does the funding come from?”

“Some of our funding comes from foundations, and in recent years we have been getting some financial support from the municipalities in the cities where we work. If the boys don’t get help and end up in the street, it costs the cities many times more. At this point we have a matching arrangement with the Wolfson foundation and with the municipalities. When a donor sends us $100, the foundation and the municipalities also send $100 each, so that it is worth $300. It’s really an amazing opportunity to make a donation go a long way. Some donors ‘adopt’ a boy or girl, paying for his mentor for the year. In those cases we send regular updates on the boy’s progress. I think all of our donors see this program as a unique opportunity to intervene at a critical point and change the life-course of our children. It’s an investment that brings huge returns.”

Again the phone rings, and Eli shoots off an email.

“Listen to this. A young man came in and told me that he wants to be a big brother. I asked him how he heard of us, and he asked me whether I recognized him. Ten years earlier he was an impoverished son of divorced parents. He was suffering socially and academically, and had received a mentor from Yad Eliezer. I asked him if he was still in touch with his mentor, and he laughed. ‘Are you kidding? He’s like my father! I talk to him all the time!’ I asked him at what moment he knew that the relationship with his mentor was real and lasting. He thought for a minute and said, ‘One day he picked me up and told me to bring my backpack. He opened it up and looked through it. There wasn’t much to see ? a torn pencil case with half a broken pencil, and a few ratty notebooks. At first I didn’t understand what he was doing. He took me to the stationary store where he picked up a stack of notebooks. He stuffed nice pencils, erasers and markers into a new pencil case until it overflowed. He paid for it all from his pocket and walked out with me. I looked at him a little bit embarrassed and asked him why he was doing this. He told me that I’m a good smart kid like all of the other kids, with everything that I need to succeed, and that he wants me to have all of the supplies like all of the other kids. Then I knew that I could trust him, that he really cared about me.’

“I told the young man to wait a minute as I opened the computer and checked his personal file,” continued Rabbi Yakobi. “Sure enough, I found written in the log kept by his mentor that he had taken him to buy school supplies, and since then he felt that his little brother had opened up to him. This ‘little brother’ is now a ‘big brother’ passing on the legacy that he received.”

When the Big brother program completed its first decade, an outside study was commissioned. 1000 graduates were randomly selected (100 from each year of the program) and surveyed. Given that the students came from such troubled family and school situations, it was not to be taken for granted that they would be succeeding in their lives. A whopping 87% were in school or holding down a job. For such an at-risk group the figures are a powerful testament to the success of the project.

“Recently a bridegroom came in here on the day of his wedding. It isn’t unusual for me to get wedding invitations, but an invitation in person on the day of the wedding? That was a first. He came in together with his mentor, and told me, ‘My father is in jail, and with good reason. My mentor is the only father I know. Tonight he and his wife will walk us to the chuppah. If not for you I don’t know where I would be today ? certainly not where I am, probably more like where my father is. I had to invite you in person.’ Then the mentor turned to me and asked me if I recognized him. I did. I had made a special arrangement for him to have a mentor when he was sixteen years old and still could not read. I was moved to hear that he is working, getting a good education and heading a family. ‘Do you know how I learned to invest in a child?’ he asked me. ‘I learned from you.’”

Our time had come to an end, but given the extreme dedication I had witnessed, I had one more question that I couldn’t resist asking, “Forgive me if this is a little personal, but I have to ask. Is there anything in your family background that predisposed you to this work?”

“Thank G-d; I grew up in a regular family, if that’s what you mean. Both of my parents worked in education and we had dozens of ‘adopted siblings’ that became a part of my family. Today all of my siblings are somehow involved in education; perhaps it’s in my blood.”

“Well in that case your parents must be very proud to have 25,000 grandchildren.”

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