My Zadie

The most religious person I knew growing up was my Zadie. He wasn't really religious in the sense that he kept the Sabbath or was particularly mindful about the Kosher dietary laws, but my whole family could feel that he, and my Bubbie, were simply closest to "the tradition."

For this reason, when I became religious about four years ago, I thought that my Bubbie and Zadie would be the most understanding of anyone. But, when I went to visit them in their senior citizen's home in Montreal for the weekend, I was in for a surprise.

No sooner did I put my bags down, did I hear my Bubbie say, "Nu, Richard..."

No sooner did I put my bags down in their room did I hear my Bubbie say, "Nu, Richard. Your mother tells us that you are religious now," in her familiar Bubbie-not-really-a-question-but-not-quite-a-statement tone.

My Zadie looked at me. I smiled expectantly, sort of hoping he would leap up from the plastic covered couch and start dancing the Horah around me. Instead he said, "Leave him alone Adelle. At least he's not in a cult. You know a lot of people have grandchildren in cults. I know someone down the hall whose granddaughter shaved her head and became a Hare Krishna. And doesn't Abe Lerner's grandson practice voodoo magic or something?"

"No Willie, that was a program you saw on TV," my Bubbie answered.

"Anyway, at least you are not in a cult," my Zadie said under his breath, while reclining back in his seat.

I was a little confused. This wasn't quite the reaction I expected, but I knew they were just expressing their concern for me. At least that is what I told myself.

"TOO GOOD" FOR THE ELEVATOR

After I accompanied my grandparents to the Friday evening services, we went to the dining hall for dinner. My Bubbie introduced me to all of her friends, and I was an instant celebrity. As soon as we were finished eating, we had to make room for the other residents who had not yet eaten, so we left to go back upstairs.

This presented a problem. They lived on the 10th floor, and my grandparents were going to take the elevator, something I wasn't prepared to do since it is prohibited to use electricity on Shabbat.

I asked the lady at the front desk if I could take the stairs. She wasn't sure if there even were any stairs, because she had never heard of anyone using them. I was trying to do this quietly, but my inquiries were overheard by a group of women seniors who were sitting by the elevator.

"Why don't you just take the elevator," asked one of the ladies.

I tried to be as diplomatic as possible. "Well, I observe Shabbat and would prefer not to ride on the elevator."

"Aw, come on," she said in her you-can't-fool-me tone. "It would kill you to take the elevator?"

"Aw, come on," she said in her you-can't-fool-me tone. "It would kill you to take the elevator?"

"I would actually rather walk up the stairs. Do you know where they are?" I asked trying to get out of this situation. But I saw more people gathering around me.

"Miriam, this young man wants to know where the stairs are because he thinks he's too good for the elevator," one of the women belted in a voice reminiscent of Estelle Costanza.

"So the elevator is good enough for the rabbi but it is not good enough for you?" another woman chimed in.

"He doesn't want to ride the elevator. Let him take the stairs," my Zadie said in my defense, joining in on what was about to turn into a senior citizen's brawl.

"What are you, some kind of fanatic or something?" one of the ladies asked me in all seriousness.

"I am not a fanatic..." I tried to explain, but got cut off.

"Oh he's a fanatic all right, " The man from the back agreed.

"He's not a fanatic," another man said apparently coming to my rescue, "he's a maniac!"

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, and my face couldn't get any redder, one of the maintenance men came into the lobby and said, "O.K., where's the crazy man who won't ride the elevator?"

The entire lobby of seniors extended their arms towards me like it was aerobics hour.

"Follow me, son. The stairs are this way," he said as though he had done this before. I walked away from the battleground with my head down, slightly embarrassed at the scene that I had managed to make, but I caught my Zadie giving me a little wink. I think he was impressed with the fact that I held firm in my commitment despite the commotion, or perhaps he was just impressed that I had the energy to walk up 10 flights of stairs.

PRAYING WITH ZADIE

The next morning with the elevator incident behind me, I went downstairs with my Zadie to the synagogue that was in the senior's home. Praying together with him not only gave him a lot of naches (pride), but it did the same for me. He introduced me to all of his friends, announcing with a smile, "This is my grandson."

I responded with an even brighter smile and said, "This is my grandfather."

That weekend was the last time I saw my Zadie. He passed away around a year later. However, I have realized how lucky I was to spend that Shabbat with him. Sitting next to him and praying with him in the synagogue made me realize how similar we really were.

Before that weekend, there were times when I had trouble relating to my Zadie. He was born in Poland, English was not his native language, and there was simply a wide generation gap between the two of us. But as we shared our Judaism together I realized how much we actually had in common.

What was more important was that we had 3300 years of common history and tradition behind us.

The fact that we were born in different countries or that we were generations apart was practically meaningless. What was more important was that we had 3300 years of common history and tradition behind us.

When the rabbi gave the eulogy at his funeral, I realized how proud my Zadie really was of me, and how much our Shabbat experience had meant to him. Apparently, he would often times brag to people in the senior's home, "My grandson Richard became religious."

In his old age, perhaps my Zaidie realized that even though he wouldn't be around forever, Judaism would be.

From that time on, whenever I observed any of the precepts in the Torah, I was not only fulfilling a Divine command, but I was connecting myself to my Zadie, and to all of my other ancestors before him who also practiced their Judaism. It comforts me to know that every time I go to synagogue to pray on Shabbat, my Zadie is right there, davening beside me. I hope it comforts him too.

This article is featured in Aish.com's book:
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(15) Jeri Barnhart, June 16, 2005 12:00 AM

How reading "My Zadie" spoke to my heart...

I am a widow - I have no children, no grandchildren, no parents, or relatives - just me, but yet I felt a precious connection of love when I read the article on "My Zadie." I was so thankful that Richard held to his beliefs and honored not only the traditions of Shabbat, but honored his Zadie. I remember the last time I was able to pray with my mother before she went to God's House, and the day my dearest beloved husband went Home to be with our Heavenly Father...those moments were the most precious eternal memories I have and hold dear to my heart...memories of love, commitment, a love so deep nothing can steal it away from my heart.

(14) Miryam, June 5, 2005 12:00 AM

What a beautiful story!

This is such a beautiful story. Thank you for sharing it. Many blessings to you and your family. Your Zadie is rejoicing proud of his grandson with the Almighty in the Olam Chaba!

(13) Anonymous, May 29, 2005 12:00 AM

Please forward to Mr. Rabkin

Dear Richard: Thank you for allowing us to 'visit' your grandfather with you and catch a glimpse of another generation in your family. Our entire family wishes you well and hopes you'll keep in touch with us from time to time, as you did in Vancouver!
Best regards from all the Feuersteins.
--Mrs. Feuerstein et al

(12) Harri Maki, May 29, 2005 12:00 AM

Comfort.

These are the kinds of experiences that I appreciate because they seem
ordinary and they are not .I have had
many and as I think back in amazement I consider myself blessed.

(11) Anonymous, May 29, 2005 12:00 AM

Very inspiring

My family takes pride in its Jewishness. Yet I now understand that I am able to connect even with my family from many generations ago that I never knew, by living by the Torah as they did.

(10) L.Caber, May 29, 2005 12:00 AM

Reminds me of my Grandfather

This article made me remember about my grandfather. I grew with him and I could say that he was the best grandfather in the world.He taught me a lot of things since I was little because he was an educator and a former school principal. Well, it's been five years since he passed away and I still miss him. Thanks for this wonderful article Richard.

(9) elaine rostolsky, May 29, 2005 12:00 AM

I really enjoyed this article and am wondering myself why many Jews, like my father , who is now 82 and suffering from cancer, are afraid to reconnect with their wonderful Jewish Eastern European roots. Five of his siblings came from Poland to the states with his mother in 1921-he and his sister were born in the USA and during a recent visit to him and my mother in Florida, where I was trying to help them as much as possible for 2 weeks, he did not like me asking him questions about his mother, his father, their experiences in Europe and USA-my father even had several older brothers who came over on the ship when they were 26 years old and younger, but my father doesn't seem to want to be reminded about this. Is this because anti-semitism and anti-immigrant feelings were so rampant in the US when he was growing up. I look forward to receiving a response.

(8) Menashe Kaltmann, May 29, 2005 12:00 AM

I had the same experience with the elevator

Good article again aish.com.
Interestingly I had the same experience about ~ 5 years ago when I working in Shanghai, China. The Shabbat service in those days was being held on the 10th floor of the Shanghai Portman Hotel and I wasn't going to take the elevator to get to Shule.

The Chinese staff didn't really understand why the sudden interest in getting fit and why I had to climb the stairs. Baruch Hashem I can proudly say that I and another congregant climbed the stairs. We really must of been "zoche" to "Zchar Halikah" that Shabbat!

(7) chana sharfstein, May 29, 2005 12:00 AM

I LOVED your article

What a heart-warming story. I actually felt myself standing right there next to you in the lobby- with everyone commenting on your resolve not to use the elevator. I was touched by your understanding that your commitment to Torah became the "tie that binds"- the connecting link with your grandfather and our rich heritage. It was indeed fortunate that he had the great zchus to become a personal witness to your dedication to yiddishkeit. I am sure you gave him and your Bubbie much naches. I only felt a bit sad that you did not see him again even though he was niftar a whole year later. As a grandparent, there is an obvious message for us all- Remember to visit your grandparents and be in close touch. You give them strength. You make them aware that life goes on and our heritage remains strong. Thanks again for sharing.

(6) Brian, May 29, 2005 12:00 AM

Stirs the emotions.

La dor va dor, "from generation to generation." This article presents the epitome of this well-known phrase.

(5) Anonymous, July 22, 2002 12:00 AM

The deeply connected emotion of our long past is priceless

It did bring tears to my eyes.

(4) Scott LAWRENCE, June 20, 2000 12:00 AM

I truly enjoyed the article and it brought a tear to my eyes.

I thought the article was beautiful. I related to it very well.

(3) , June 13, 2000 12:00 AM

Touching

This article reminded me of my grandparents, who passed away more than thirty years ago. I feel close to them with each "Jewish act" I perform. Thanks!

(2) Saf Stern, June 12, 2000 12:00 AM

Unbelievable

This was one of the best articles I have read on becoming religious. From laughing at the elevator mania, to thinking about the beauty of the connection between the author and his Zaidy, nothing could capture the feelings better than this article. Beautifully written!

(1) Anonymous, June 12, 2000 12:00 AM

This really touched my heart, and it makes me thing that someone on my line of ancestry may be dovening right alongside of me, and so I pray to Hashem...it is my Nana.