Dear Family,
Although the following is a bit long, I highly recommend that you take the five minutes it needs and read it through. It is extremely inspirational and uplifting. Thank you cousin Seema for writing it.
Ahuva
A New Beginning
By: Cousin SeeeeeMA
(NOT Seema Goldstein, NOT Dr. Seema G. Goldstein…)
Seema Sharfstein-GERSTEN
When most people think of the eighties they recall, big hair and frosted eye shadow. I loved the eighties. It was an amazing time for me. I lost myself and found myself in the 80’s. I went to Bais Rivkah seminary in 1980. I started college in 1980. That’s when things began to unravel for me. Too much, too fast, too soon. I finished my first year of seminary but it was fairly obvious to all the staff that I didn’t quite fit the typical seminary girl mold. I had no intention of going on Shidduch dates. (ask Cyrel, she set me up on my first date… that would require a completely separate post… for those that need to know the horror of my very first shidduch date email me for the ‘gory’ details…) I wasn’t quite mature enough to deal with the structure of being a full time college student. I graduated high school too young and wasn’t quite ready to tackle all of life quite yet. I had thousands of questions swirling round and round. Should I just give up and attempt to endure one more year of seminary? Should I go back for my sophomore year of college and tackle Renaissance history and literature? . The summer was winding down and I had not enrolled at any school. My parents constant nagging was not making my thinking process any smoother. In stepped Uncle Dovid with an answer. “Come and teach at the Yeshiva in Springfield for the year.” Apparently they were short two Hebrew teachers and he felt that with my vivacious, bubbly personality and my one year seminary diploma I was more than qualified. I shrugged and said something very eloquent like… “Sure, I’ll go.” Little did I know the ramifications that short dialogue would have on my life.
If you had told me then, that 10 months in Springfield on 15 Elwood Drive would change my entire life course I would have rolled on the floor laughing in sheer hysteria. Naturally I could not endure 10 months in Springfield without my best friend, Nechama Cadaner-Lichtenstein. I dragged her along kicking and screaming to be the first grade Hebrew teacher at the Yeshiva. If I was going to get stuck teaching in a moldy room in a basement of some shul for 10 months, walking back and forth to school, in the snow, uphill, both ways, I would NOT do it alone. We had no idea we were embarking on the adventure of a lifetime as we boarded a Greyhound bus out of Port Authority bound for Springfield Massachusetts. For years my parents had always told us how proud they were of Uncle Dovid and Tante Leah for all their accomplishments in Springfield. “Did you know,” my mother would announce as she passed a plate of jarred manischevitz gefilta fish” Uncle Dovid opened a Yeshiva with the basement of Kesser Israel?” We tried to be impressed but we were attending Bais Rivkah on Church Avenue and a small school in a shul’s basement didn’t do much to impress our sarcastic Brooklyn souls. “Did you know,” my mom would announce as she passed a bowl of room temperature canned green beans “Uncle Dovid is having a ground breaking ceremony for the Yeshiva this week” Hmmm… this was a bit interesting… Uncle Dovid is BUILDING a school? I had no idea that schools were actually built? I had always assumed schools were born when dinosaurs roamed the earth. MY school was VERY old. When we finally arrived at the Greyhound bus station after a six hour bus ride we were exhausted. But you can’t hold Uncle Dovid back. He was too excited. He insisted on giving us the grand tour of the Yeshiva that very night. No matter that we longed to get in our PJ’s and get some sleep. We got into his enormous Cadillac which smelled of Cuban cigars and away we went. Tante Leah was in the driveway yelling “Dovid, use my car, yours smells like…” I assume she said cigars but we were long gone by then. We pulled into a long circular driveway and I got really quiet. (Yes, it’s hard to imagine but I was at a complete loss for words. Ask Nechama she was there!) I assumed Uncle Dovid was kidding and he had driven us to Heritage Academy. I was completely stunned. This was no tiny Yeshiva in a shul basement. This was a magnificent brick school complete with a full size kitchen, beautiful playground, multi purpose room, sprawling wooded property and a full size basket ball court. The sign on the front of this awe inspiring structure said Yeshiva Academy of Longmeadow. Apparently this was the beginning of many years of me claiming “My mother never tells me anything.” I know my parents told me there had been a ground breaking ceremony but I had no idea that my Uncle Dovid and Tante Leah had built such an impressive school. It was at that moment that I knew this was not going to be an ordinary year. Nechama and I learned a lot our first year in Springfield. I taught with two incredibly talented and inspiring teachers, Harriet (Lipschitz) and Beth (Zwick). They must have been pretty special for me to remember their names 26 years later! These women had the patience of saints. They put up with me and my never ending questions and comments. I remember Harriet’s horse died that year and she was so devastated she took several days off. Uncle Dovid was so compassionate and understanding. He realized that this horse was like family to this young single mom doing her best to raise a son on her own. Everyone loved working with Uncle Dovid. He greeted everyone on staff with a smile and always stopped to make small talk. I felt so fortunate to be his niece. None of us were ever going to get rich working at the Yeshiva Academy but not a single teacher left. They really loved and admired Uncle Dovid. I have been teaching in Jewish Day Schools for 26 years and I can honestly say that I have never ever worked with a rabbi that was so appreciated, respected and admired by his staff. My friend Nechama stayed a teacher at the Yeshiva for many years even after I moved on to finish my college degree. She wasn’t thrilled with salary. But the added benefits were things you could not put a price tag on. Nechama benefited from Tante Leah’s pearls of wisdom and advice for FREE! Where else but in Springfield MA can you get fresh baked rugelach, homemade challah and dating advice??!! Not to mention the living arrangement was very cool! We shared a fantastic bedroom in the basement of the house. The Edelman’s attempted to call it Sruli and Yossi’s room but we insisted on renaming it Nechama and Seema’s room. In fact I recall I was really irritated when Cyrel and Zalman slept in our room over Succot and we slept in the den. Nechama reminded me we had full access to a TV. Not too shabby! I have a pet peeve. I will share it with you but please don’t pass it on… I hate, and I mean DESPISE when people ask “How are you? And then keep moving as though you are invisible and what you have to say is completely irrelevant… This is a pet peeve I developed AFTER my year at the Yeshiva. You see, Uncle Dovid always stands still when he asks you a pointed question. He actually waits for a response. Uncle Dovid, in his own quiet way makes you feel that anything you have to say is extremely important. Apparently this is highly unusual and widely unaccepted practice in Rabbinic circles. I can go on and on with memories of my year at the Yeshiva but some of them only Uncle Dovid and Tante Leah will find amusing. Like the time I took Tante Leah’s favorite milchig frying pan and browned some meat in it. Boy, she was not thrilled. This was my first feeble attempt at cooking. I did not go near a stove until 1990 when I got married, poor Seth. Tante Leah, If you read this, ( I hope one of you will help her get online) I owe you a frying pan. My year at the Yeshiva completely altered my life. It gave me focus and direction. I knew I was destined to be a teacher. Uncle Dovid told me so and I believed him. I had a horrific experience in one of my seminary classes. I finished presenting, what I believed to be a phenomenal model lesson in Morah Malkie’s Pre First class in Bais Rivkah. The seminary teacher told me “I hope you have not chosen to be a teacher. If I were you I would consider another career choice.” But, Uncle Dovid knew. He believed in me and he told me I was a terrific teacher. Twenty Five years later I was awarded Teacher Of The Year and I was honored at a luncheon at the Luxe Summit Hotel in Bel Aire California. (I have a DVD of my acceptance speech for those of you who don’t really believe me…) I am eternally grateful for the impact Uncle Dovid and Tante Leah have had on my life. Here I am today, well over Twenty years later I have published numerous articles in educational journals. I have presented workshops on teaching young children in Washington DC, Atlanta, New York City, Sacramento etc. I take pride in my accomplishments but it is crucial to pause for a moment and remember my humble beginnings. Naturally I love my mom and dad. They did an impressive job raising me and showing me right from wrong. I wouldn’t be here writing this if not for my mom and dad. In fact we all know I got the writers gene from my mother… But I never had the gift of a bubby and zeidy. However, I am fortunate and totally blessed to have a terrific aunt and uncle who shower me with love unconditionally. No matter that I literally bounced off the walls every Sunday morning in 1981 because NOTHING was open in Massachusetts on Sundays because of the silly Blue Laws. I know I drove Tante Leah CRAAAAZY with my incessant chatter and my boundless energy. They were relieved when I had cousin Sheina’s bike (YES! Sheina actually owned her own bike with a super cool banana seat!) fixed so I could pedal down to the JCC to swim and burn off some of my excess energy. One evening I was so restless that Uncle Dovid suggested I join him as and listen as he gave a shiur in some small little hamlet, I believe it was called Chickapea. There was a tiny little shul, literally one room. Uncle Dovid drove there once a week, to learn with a few of the men. I was completely stunned. Why bother driving all the way to some hole –in- the -wall to learn with 3 or 4 men? I even complained to Uncle Dovid and said it didn’t seem worth his valuable time. He patiently explained that this was their only source of Jewish nourishment for their soul. Once again I was rendered speechless. I learned so many life lessons from Uncle Dovid and Tante Leah. Today, when someone on the teaching staff complains that not enough people will show up for a particular school event… I say “All the most important people will be there.” It’s not about quantity it’s about quality. The Yeshiva has grown over the years but thanks to Uncle Dovid’s tremendous effort and Tante Leah’s gentle encouragement a strong foundation was laid for a school where Jewish souls are nourished. Uncle Dovid always said nurturing the minds of little Jewish children is the noblest profession. I didn’t understand that at the time. My cousin Zlati paid me more money to babysit her lively kids than I made teaching at the Yeshiva. Somehow teaching at the Yeshiva left me feeling as though I had done something worthwhile. I knew I was making an impact on young children but I had no clue the teaching experience would leave me with a lasting impression. I don’t know where the yeshiva would be without Uncle Dovid’s patience, love and tolerance for all people. As I see it, the Yeshiva and Uncle Dovid are like a beautiful tapestry woven carefully with the threads of humanity. Uncle Dovid and the Yeshiva Academy are one, inseparable. Time marches on and the years seem to rush together. He may not be there eight hours a day, overseeing the day to day running of the school. He may not have any idea what the budget is or how much money was spent on copy paper in 2006. But, his soul is ingrained in the very foundation of the school. His energy and his passion for Chinuch courses through the building like electricity runs through the walls. I am hardly an electrician and I haven’t a clue exactly how electricity works, but I believe that when I turn on a switch a room will be flooded with light. I know that no matter who the precise person is that signs the checks or pays the bills, or locks up the building every evening it was and always will be Uncle Dovid’s Yeshiva. He is truly the guiding force bringing the light of Torah and Mitzvot to the Greater Massachusets. If you ask anyone who the Chabad Rabbi is in Springfield Massachusetts I guarantee the answer will inevitably be “Rabbi Dovid Edelman”. I couldn’t see the full picture back in 1981 because I was young, and naïve. I had no idea how much life blood, energy and motivation was spent building the Yeshiva from the ground up. (I just loved my Uncle Dovid, even if he made me incredibly nervous because he might ask for a dvar torah on shabbos and I had prepared nothing…) As the years pass I can see the hard work, devotion, dedication and sacrifice of Uncle Dovid and Tante Leah have really paid off. I think of all the families that have passed through the halls of the Yeshiva Academy and with Uncle Dovid’s loving guidance and gentle spirit he has helped them become valuable members of the Jewish world at large. They say If you change one person, you have changed a world. I know they changed my world and I only spent 10 months in Springfield. I cannot even imagine how many thousands of people have been blessed thanks to their years of Jewish education at the Yeshiva Academy. With Hashem’s help may the Yeshiva Academy continue to flourish under the guidance and spiritual leadership of my dear Uncle and Aunt and may they continue to touch everyone and have a positive impact on everyone they encounter. In their zchus may we merit the coming of Moshiach in our times.
