Rachel straightened the collar of her jacket as she walked
down the corridor of the convalescent home to visit Mrs.
Gertrude Halpern — or "Savta Gittel", as she was known
to her friends and neighbors. Mrs. Halpern, well in her
eighties, had slipped on the wet landing while trying to
negotiate some stairs, instead of taking the elevator, and
the result was a fall and a fractured femur. Savta Gittel
lived on the second floor of an apartment building in
Unsdorf, Jerusalem, and had decided she needed more exercise.
The doctor told her she should consider herself lucky that
she hadn't sustained a greater injury.
Rachel walked into the cheerful room and found Mrs. Halpern
leaning on her pillow in what looked like a most
uncomfortable position. The cast looked enormous on her thin
leg and she was obviously in pain, despite the medication
they had given her. But as she spied Rachel, her face broke
out in a smile.
"I'm so glad you could come. Please sit down and have some
cake and a glass of juice," she said, pointing to the
packages of food and drink spread out on the night table next
to her bed. Rachel, who had come over straight from Seminary,
gratefully accepted. She told Savta Gittel how everyone in
the building was praying for her. "We feel terrible that you
had to leave your own home, and come here," she sighed
sympathetically. Mrs. Halpern smiled at Rachel, "Of course, I
would rather be home, but it's all for the best. I know
Hashem has a reason for me to be here, and before you know
it, I'll be fine."
Savta Gittel was about the cheeriest, most positive person
you could meet. Before breaking her leg, she had been
constantly attending to everyone's needs. She was a one-woman
chesed committee for the building with its numerous
families. She was always bringing 'leftovers' to neighbors
with little children. "Please, you're doing me a favor," she
would say as she brought them delicious, fresh vegetable
soups.
The busy young mothers were only too happy to 'help her out'
by accepting. Or "Look, Breindy," she would sigh to her
elderly neighbor, " I prepared so much rice, I certainly
can't eat it all, maybe you'll do me a favor and take some"
— and so on. Although she was a widow with no children
of her own, all the neighbors of the building became her
children and grandchildren. "Come on, kinderlach," she
would urge the little ones on Friday afternoons while their
parents were busy preparing for Shabbos. "Let's sit outside
on the grass. I have some cookies to finish off before
Shabbos, and a good story if you all keep quiet."
If the weather was bad they would all sit in her living room,
but only after making sure that the staircase was clean of
all papers, sticks, stones or whatever had been thrown down
there. She set the children up in pairs to 'patrol' the
stairs and when all the trash was thrown out in the baskets
on each floor, they came in for hot cocoa, cookies and a
Shabbos story.
"Everyone in the building misses you, Savta Gittel." Rachel
said emphatically.
"I know. I miss them, too, but there's so much to be done
here," she responded. "You see this lady over by the window?"
Savta Gittel glanced over at an elderly woman sitting in a
wheel chair with a several blankets heaped on her lap. Her
scarf sat askew on her head, and her housecoat looked
faded.
"That's Mrs. Miriam Bienstock; she had a stroke and now she
is slowly getting over it — as a matter of fact, the
doctors say she can be up and about already, but she refuses
to try walking again." Rachel glanced again at Miriam who was
reading a newspaper.
"Come, push me over and we'll say hello." Rachel carefully
pushed Savta Gittel's wheelchair over to Mrs. Bienstock. The
window was wide open and the wind was blowing the pages of
the newspaper. "Would you like me to close the window?"
Rachel asked.
"Oh, no, this is good for me. I may not be able to walk any
longer but at least I can feel the air moving around me."
"'Miriam, I would like you to meet my young friend, Rachel,"
Savta Gittel said with a smile. "She would like to know if
she can bring you anything when she comes next time —
isn't that so, Rachel?" she asked with a wink. "Now, if we
want air, why don't we all go out on the front terrace?"
Savta Gittel suggested. Miriam eagerly agreed and they moved
towards the end of the hall. Rachel pushed Miriam while Savta
Gittel insisted on moving the chair slowly on her own. The
terrace looked lovely — with its many window boxes
overflowing with bright flowers. Here and there, visitors and
patients sat chatting quietly in the morning sun.
After an hour of pleasant talk, they all went in for dinner.
'"You wouldn't believe how energetic Miriam was before the
stroke," Savta Gittel told Rachel after they had gone back to
her room. "But since she's been here, she's lost interest in
everything. She reads all day, and she hardly has the
strength to take two steps when she goes for
physiotherapy."
Suddenly, Mrs. Halpern brightened. "You know what — I
have an idea. Maybe we can do something to keep Miriam busy
and interested. Her children live abroad and her husband is
only free in the evenings. You can organize the neighbors and
the children in the building to visit her, and maybe we can
encourage her to try walking."
Rachel shook her head in amazement — here was Savta
Gittel, whose leg hadn't healed completely, yet she was was
ignoring her own pain to help someone else. Rachel quickly
agreed to come back the next day.
Savta Gittel made every chesed project seem like great
fun. Rachel's mother listened as she described the project.
"`Why, that's a wonderful idea," she agreed, "and a good way
for children to do chesed with the elderly. It's also
bikur cholim." She suggested that Rachel take the
older children to visit Savta Gittel and Mrs. Bienstock the
next day. That same evening, after talking to the other
neighbors, she sat down and made a visiting schedule for the
whole building.
After Shabbos, the plan was put into action. Every day, when
the children came by to see Savta Gittel, she would introduce
them to Miriam, who was more than happy to meet new people
and talk a bit, instead of constantly reading her newspapers.
Slowly she cheered up and began taking care better of her
appearance. A new kerchief crowned her head now and her
husband brought her a nice robe. "I can't greet my friends in
this old one," she claimed.
She ate her meals perfunctorily, anxious to be back on time
from the dining area to the parlor where she could meet her
new-found friends. The children asked her all sorts of
indiscreet questions and the younger ones especially
entranced her. '"Mrs. Bienstock, why are your legs up?"
Rachel's little brother Yanky asked her one day
"Because I can't walk," Miriam would answer.
"But how do you know if you don't put your feet on the
ground?"
The logic hit home. "Maybe I should try again," Miriam
ruminated. " You know what, Yanky, tomorrow I'll tell the
physiotherapist that I want to try again. Just for you."
From then on, Miriam spent several minutes a day walking with
the help of the aides and her walker. At first it went very
slowly and painfully, but as she progressed, the exercises
became easier. One day, as Rachel was walking down the hall
on her way to visit Savta Gittel, she passed a patient
walking with a cane at a brisk pace.
"Doda Miriam!" she exclaimed, "I hardly recognized you. Why
you're practically running."
"Baruch Hashem, I'm much better, but believe me, I owe a lot
of it to my dear friend Gittel. I don't know how I would have
managed without her encouragement, and all those wonderful
visitors."
Savta Gittel greeted Rachel with her usual smile. "I have a
surprise for you," she announced happily. "Baruch
Hashem, the doctors said my leg is healed. I'll be going
home in a few days — three months in convalescence is
enough, don't you think?' Savta Gittel said cheerfully. "Of
course, I will have to walk with a walker at first, and then
a special cane, but I am grateful to Hashem for this
chessed. I was afraid I would have to stay in the
wheelchair for a long time." Rachel was so moved to hear the
good news that she bent down and kissed Savta Gittel's soft
cheek.
"What about Miriam Bienstock?" she asked. "What will she do
now? She will really miss you."
"'Oh, she'll be going home in a week or so. The doctors are
pleased with her progress. But now she's feeling rather sad
about having to get help for the chores — she used to
be so independent. But I told her we have so much to be
grateful for; just being able to get around is a wonderful
gift. She has good neighbors and they will come to help out
occasionally."
Savta Gittel straightened up, "You know, Rachel, many of the
people here in the ward are not able to get around at all.
They were so pleased with your visits; you always smiled and
said hello to everyone when you came to see me. After I get
really well, b'Ezrat Hashem, perhaps we can organize
regular visits to the home. You saw how a little
encouragement goes a long way."
