It was the peak of the first coronavirus wave in Israel and I had been laid off of my job. I was home feeling depressed when it occurred to me: Maybe if I went out to help others who were having a harder time than myself, it would help me gain perspective.
That’s when I got in my car and drove to the packing lots for Masbia LeKol Chai. I had heard of Masbia from a friend who had volunteered with them in the past. When I got to the lot I was moved by what I saw: Volunteers of every age and hashkafa, packing boxes with essential groceries.
I signed in with my details, and got started. One by one, another man & I loaded the boxes up onto the truck. Mid-afternoon, we set out for Yerushalayim to start delivering the packages.
As we pulled into a parking lot in the Geulah neighborhood, children gathered around to observe. We took a box, modestly packaged, out of the back and headed over to our first address. We knocked on a simple white door, down a few steps from the street. What I saw in that house may haunt me forever.
Little brown-haired children with dirty clothes, knotted hair, and no shoes greeted me with suspicious eyes. We made our way to the kitchen to drop off the door. “Where is your mother?,” I asked a boy who looked about 12.
“She is sleeping,” said the boy, his eyes hard & resilient. “Our father was niftar from the corona. Do you need to talk to her? We try to leave her be.”
My eyes welled with tears. My eyes darted around to glance quickly at the house. It was clear that it was once a well-kept home. Now it was scattered with trash, baby bottles, and toys. I made my way to the kitchen counter to drop off the box. Just then, one of the children opened up the fridge – It was devastatingly empty.
In that moment I knew how crucial it was to not make these children feel pitied. And so I patted the young boy, used all of my strength to muster a polite smile, and headed for the door.
When I got back to the truck, I was visibly shaken. The man driving the truck recognized my shock.
“It’s painful to see how some people are living, I know,” he began. “Gotten much worse since COVID. Less volunteers. Less supplies. And more hungry families than I’ve ever seen.”
It was then that I knew I had gotten the perspective that I was looking for. Suddenly my modest savings, and comfortable functional home seemed a luxury. My health, the health which allowed me to stand on my own two feet, packing & lifting boxes, was a priceless treasure.
The past few months volunteering for Masbia have changed my life. The organization, however, is stuck: Unemployment is way up, many are in quarantine, and they aren’t equipped to handle the number of families who are applying for grocery packages.
If you’re like me and you’ve struggled during this difficult time, and want to use the resources that you do have to help those who are struggling much more, please help Masbia raise funds for their most recent campaign. Donations go toward helping families eat this week.
It just may change a life – and if you’re like me, that life may be yours.
Thank you.
Signed,
A New Perspective
