“How did it feel when your wife died?” asks Isaac, a wide-eyed and serious fourth grader at Temple Shir Tikvah religious school in Winchester, Massachusetts.
“I was very sad,” says Barry Kahn, a longtime temple member. “But it helped to know that the Caring Committee was there to support me.” Everyone in the room listens intently.
Barry, 63, is at the religious school on this fall Sunday morning to be interviewed by the fourth graders and their parents about being a recipient of care. He hopes these young families can learn from his firsthand experience about the Jewish practice of gemilut chasadim, acts of loving kindness. Barry lost his wife, Sandy, to cancer a few years ago. In the months before she died, while Sandy was in hospice at home, the synagogue’s Caring Committee coordinated members to cook and deliver meals to their home. Some of the adults wipe away tears as they listen to Barry’s story.
Temple Shir Tikvah’s innovative Learning Corps program pairs each grade with a different synagogue committee, bringing together members of different ages and stages of life to learn and take action. The fourth grade families, paired with the Caring Committee, act as the Caring Corps. Both children and parents learn together about what it means for members of a Jewish community to support one another through significant life cycle events. And they have opportunities to make an authentic contribution to their temple community by volunteering for the Caring Committee. They make baby blankets to give to members with new babies, they make cards to send to members who are ill, they bake cakes and show up at shiva gatherings to support families who have suffered a loss.
I had listened to Barry’s story on the phone a week before, and in the role of story coach, I helped him prepare what he wanted to tell these young families. I also met beforehand with the children, to help them prepare interview questions. see previous post Now, Barry looks around the circle of quiet children and their parents and invites another question.
Nine-year-old Julia stands and asks, “Did the help of the Caring Committee make you feel like you were cared for? Did it make it easier for you?” Barry strokes his silver beard thoughtfully. “For three months, while my wife was in hospice, members of our temple community cooked five meals a week for me and my family,” he says. “Do you realize how many meals that is? Sixty meals! When you have to shop and cook and clean up, all of that takes so much time, and that would take me away from being there for my wife. So this was such a big help, it was so wonderful, because it gave me the time to spend with Sandy.”
“Were there too many people coming to your house?” asks Jonathan, a boisterous kid who is now impressively poised and focused.
“We had a cooler out on the porch and people would drop off food,” Barry explains. “Often I didn’t even see them or know who had cooked or delivered the food. Sometimes they stopped in to talk, but often not.” Barry pauses to think. “How did it feel? It felt like manna in the desert!”
The group nods, making the connection to the ancient story I told them at the beginning of the morning, from the Book of Exodus in the Torah. “The Israelites did not know how they would survive in the desert,” the story goes. “But God provided manna, a miraculous white dew that appeared every morning to nourish and sustain them.” The group can appreciate that having others bring food was a huge relief for Barry at such a difficult time, and that it felt miraculous to have dinner appear on his porch.
One boy, Nathan, juts his chin to one side and asks, “Did you feel like people were just bringing you food because they thought they were supposed to, or did they really want to help?”
Barry seems impressed with this question, and answers it like the best of Jewish educators. “Sometimes it is OK to do something because you are supposed to – that’s part of what a mitzvah is. It’s a commandment. But then once you do it, you realize you are glad you did.”
Later, the listeners offer appreciations to Barry for his story. “You helped me realize how glad I am to be a part of this community,” says one parent. Another observes, “At some points in our lives we all need help.”
Barry lingers to chat with the others. He tells me, “It was powerful to tell my story. It helped me in my grieving process. And it helped me to get back in touch with my gratitude for this community. It makes me want to stay involved in the temple.”
And the good feelings continued. A few weeks later, Barry said, “Some kids and their parents came up to me at Shabbat services. They remembered me and said how much it meant to them that I had shared my story.” He smiles, and adds, “If you do this again next year, I’d be glad to come back.” Barry has come back each year for four years now.
Cindy Rivka Marshall has worked as a Consultant since 2011 with Bailee Star, Education Director at Temple Shir Tikvah in Winchester, Massachusetts. Her expertise in Story-Based Learning has informed the design of an innovative model for Jewish learning called the Learning Corps. Religious school classes are paried with synagogue committees, a concept originated with former Education Director Joan Forman. Temple Shir Tikvah receives funding from Combined Jewish Philanthropies in Boston to support the development and growth of this program. See Video Here
This post highlights the Story-Based Learning technique of personal story sharing. See other posts for other techniques.
See also Learning to Care (Part 1)