Ten years ago I had some significant surgery, which I can gratefully report was successful. I remember very little of it, since my role in the procedure was to be sedated and cared for by the surgeon, the anesthesiologist and their wonderful team of support staff. But I do remember the week I spent in recovery and the person who, besides my family, made the biggest impression on me. The woman I cannot forget was not a nurse, was not a resident, was not a doctor, but probably occupied the lowest rung on the hospital hierarchy; namely, the cleaning woman. She was from the islands, to my shame I cannot say which one, and I met her twice that week when she came to clean the bins and the bathroom. I was not my normal self at the time; had I been, I would have learned her name and a little of her life story. As it was, she helped me to the shower and then she asked the question that has stayed with me forever. She asked if I would like her to wash my back. I am quite sure that nothing in her job description required her to do that. But her seemingly small question had a profound effect upon me, both in the moment and to this day. Twice she offered and twice I gratefully accepted.
Random acts of kindness, the generosity of one person to another, can be life-altering, even when the individuals involved barely know another.
I was reminded of this recently during the High Holiday services for Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the Jewish calendar and the day on which we ask God to forgive our sins against both God and the universe. Several of the speakers reminded us of our obligations towards one another and to never forget how much human beings need one another.
When we reflect upon those words, we tend to think of our obvious obligations to our loved ones, to our extended family, to the people we work with, play sports with, or discuss books with…in other words, our obligations to the people we know. But the example I gave of the stranger whose small act of kindness brightened my entire experience in that hospital bed reminds us of the great influence we have every day when small acts of kindness can change the world.
For the past several years, I have been a facilitator n the Holographic Theatre at the Skokie Holocaust Museum. For those of you unfamiliar with the concept, in brief, it means that a hologram of a survivor appears on the stage in front of an audience and and answers questions put to it by the audience through the facilitator. I view my role as being an extension of my teaching; that is, to translate and interpret between the audience and the material (hologram) so that the hologram answers what the audience want to know.
This month, I am once again working with the holographic Fritzie Fritxshall of beloved memory, who served for many years as the President of the Museum and whose detailed and emotional testimony makes a powerful impression on all who hear her. As with all holograms, my final question to her is always “Do you have any lessons to teach us as a result of your experiences during the Holocaust?” And her answer is always,”Humanity; Kindness.”
Last week, one of the audience members wanted to know if anyone in Concentration Camp Auschwitz had ever acted with kindness and she answered at once that there were many heroes. For example, there was her aunt Bertha, who held her every night and reassured the thirteen year-old that “Tomorrow, life would be better; we just have to get through the night”; the six hundred women who each shared a small crumb of their precious slice of bread with the little girl she once was in order that she would tell their story and they would not be forgotten;” the capo at the station who at great peril to himself, told the children to lie about their age in order to survive the selection and have a chance to live.
Nothing you or I do is likely to rise to the level of those acts of kindness and generosity, but we can all practice kindness every single day in order to brighten the lives of those whose lives touch our own, however briefly.
In my example, a woman whose name I never knew and who has no doubt long since forgotten that washcloth forever holds a place of warm and deep appreciation in my heart. By acknowledging this, I hope to show the power of Fritzie’s words and her abiding influence on all who hear her.
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