Visiting a friend becomes a mitzvah

Since my father passed away I have been making it my intention to attend synagogue as frequently as I can to say the mourners prayer. On Wednesdays, for the last several weeks I have attended a service about 20 minutes from my home in a neighborhood near our retired Rabbi and Rebbitzen. I decided my Wednesdays with the Rebbitzen were somewhat like the book “Tuesdays with Morrie” by Mitch Albom. They are both in their 80’s and are wonderful, insightful people. Over the years, the Rabbi and Rebbetzin have become our friends. I love Wednesdays. Anyway, I hadn’t mentioned my visits in my blog up until now because I was really visiting them because I wanted to and not because it was a mitzvah. Yesterday, when I visited I decided to tell the Rebbetzin about the blog and she was so excited. She wanted me to include our visits and use her name. She loved the connection with the Ziv Tzedakah organization.

Also, since I had assumed that she had been doing mitzvahs her whole life I was thrilled to hear one of her stories. She told me that once when she was in the hospital late at night she was hungry and there was nothing to eat. She made a decision that when someone was going to the hospital she would make them something to eat. I loved this story because not only is it a wonderful and kind thing she was doing, it showed me that sometimes until we have experienced something ourselves we are not aware that something we do can make a difference.

I feel that way when I think about my children being born and all the wonderful meals people made me as well as when my father died all of the cards that I received. After both of those experiences I knew first hand what doing that for someone else would feel like.

33) Anyway, I guess I will now count visiting with the Rebbetzin as a mitzvah.

34) Donated to the Epilepsy Foundation in honor of Kaitlyn Stewart and her wonderful efforts to raise money and awareness.

35) Gave the children’s teachers a small gift of appreciation on Valentine’s Day.


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