Readers share stories of kindness remembered
MYfather passed away in 1984 at the age of 61. I was 27 years old and hadn’t put on tefillin since my bar mitzvah. I wanted to start going to shul to say Kaddish for Dad, but I was very anxious and embarrassed about not knowing how to put tefillin on properly or what to do during Shacharis.
My mom’s uncle, Moishe, called me and said, “Don’t worry, Marshall, I’ll help you.” He came over and spent an entire evening going over the Shacharis service with me and helping me practice putting on my tefillin. I never forgot that kindness.
Four years later, Uncle Moishe passed away at age 79. Well over 100 people showed up at the cemetery. Everyone watched as the casket was covered with a thin layer of earth, shoveled in by several mourners. Then, a bulldozer headed toward the huge mound of earth to finish the job.
I started crying, pushing my way to the front until I was standing in the narrow space between the mound of earth and the open grave. I was crying and shouting, “I won’t let Uncle Moishe be buried by a bulldozer!” My family thought I was crazy, and, admittedly, I must have looked borderline hysterical to the shocked crowd. I wildly waved my arms at the driver, yelling at him to shut down the machine and leave.
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