Last Succah Standing

As the descendants of Avraham, our community can justifiably take pride in bearing his trademark trait of being gomlei chasadim. Before and during the Yom Tov season, our chesed organizations go into overdrive to ensure that everyone’s needs are met; lulavim and esrogim are dropped off at the homes of single parents, succahs are built for the elderly, and extra funds are distributed generously. The Rambam’s definition of true simchah — making others happy (Hilchos Yom Tov 6:18) — is fulfilled by countless individuals who make an extra effort to invite those in need for Yom Tov meals.

But then comes the day after. We are exhausted after a month and a half of nonstop Yamim Tovim. This year, the day after was a Sunday, enabling many of us to take advantage of a quieter day, to pull ourselves off our couches and disassemble our succahs. The Shabbos after will likely consist of a simple meal and no guests. After Succos, it is time for a much-needed and well-earned breather.

Down the block, a very different scene unfolds. On Sunday, the single mother is desperately juggling the many needs of her children with trying to make her home look like it was not hit by Hurricane Martin. The elderly man, whose succah all the neighbors helped build, watches from his window as those same people take theirs down and forget about his. The single 34-year-old eats cold cuts Friday night, absentmindedly flipping through a magazine. Their succahs will be left standing for weeks.

This is human nature. We flock to a shivah house of someone we barely know, but we forget to call a good friend a week after shivah is over to see how they are doing. We quickly mobilize dozens of volunteers to set up a shul event, but only one or two people stick around after it’s over to help put the chairs away. Our adrenaline and neshamos soar when the need is acute; after the fact, for most us, they fizzle.