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My time to volunteer By Lenny Garber
I want to tell you about my amazing Sar-El experience. I have been back some time, but I feel like I just came back, and my experience impacts me almost every day since. I sent my son, Jacob, to Israel twice in high school. He was at the Alexander Muss High School in Israel for two months. I kvelled. After he came back, I experienced a let down. If it is so good for my son, than surely it would be good for me. I had been in Israel 30 years ago and I realized it was time to go up to the Land again. I had previously looked into being a volunteer, but being a single parent, I didn’t feel I could go until my son was out of high school. I will tell you about my experience as it was much different than many others. For the last 20 years I have been visiting synagogue members in hospitals. Not too long ago I started visiting those in nursing homes. If I was willing to volunteer for a month, I could volunteer in a nursing home or hospital in Israel. I was game. When interviewed, I was asked if I had a job I didn’t like, what would I do? I said, “It’s only for a month.” This was the time for a special mid-life experience. I took a month off work and looked forward to my volunteer experience. I met Pamela Lazerus at the Ben Gurion Airport along with many other Sar-El volunteers. I met my Madricha, young woman, who rode with me in a cab to Mishon, a senior citizen campus of 1100 senior citizens in 22 apartment buildings, in Ramat Efal, a suburb of Tel Aviv. I was introduced to the caseworker who took me over to the nursing home. On this campus of 20 apartment buildings, formerly a kibbutz, there is also a nursing home of 45 residents. This was my work area. I was given my own small 33 square meter apartment with a refrigerator, sink, dishes, pots, self-heating tea kettle and a hot plate. The apartment had its own bathroom and shower. I was the only volunteer at this location. I worked in the nursing home. My day started at 7:30 am in the Activity Area. I would put bibs on all the people seated and at those places where people would be seated or in wheelchairs. I would also give people coffee, tea or juice. People learned my name fast when they found out they could say, “ Lenny, ode coffee,” holding their coffee cups high for more coffee. I didn’t need to know Hebrew to know what they wanted. It was my job to peel 50 hard boiled eggs used in the breakfast served for these residents. I also grated some of the eggs for those that couldn’t chew. I helped served the breakfast. During the day, I helped roll people in wheelchairs to their seats at the table. I would take someone in the wheelchair out for a walk in the 80 degree sunshine for a half an hour. One former Sar-El volunteer made aliyah to Israel in his retirement, Joseph Oulovsky, and he still came into the nursing home to volunteer every morning. I helped the physical therapist (who was 7 months pregnant), by bringing people to her for their therapy and I also assisted the therapist with an extra needed hand. She would see up to nine people each day for therapy. I helped move the tables out of the way for the day’s activity where all chairs and wheelchairs are made into a giant circle. Someone would lead the day’s activity. It might be a combination of talking about today’s news, live music, art projects, exercises done sitting, and more for 90 minutes. I helped set back the tables and chairs for lunch, help put on bibs and help feed those who could not feed themselves over the next. After lunch, I helped get people to their bedrooms for the afternoon nap. I would go to lunch myself at 1:30 pm. A number of staff and residents spoke English, if not, we still communicated. Sometimes if I wasn’t busy, I would sit and talk with the residents. Often I would return at 3 pm to help with the snack time and serving the evening meal. The staff spoke Hebrew, English, Yiddish and Russian to the residents. I could feel the mutual bond from caregiver to residents. Four weeks flew by fast. I ate breakfast and lunch with the people that worked on this campus, and I had dinner with residents in the dining room hall. One fellow, one of the gardeners who spoke English, was kind to me. I would eat at his table with his friends at mealtime. Also he had me over to his house for dinner twice, and even took me to afternoon mincha services at his synagogue after work. I didn’t think that would happen. I miss the staff and residents, and I miss Israel. Now I can start working on the next time I’m a “Mitnadev”, a volunteer.
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