This past February, at the start of the year leading up to my becoming a bar mitzvah, I was sitting with my parents in our dining room and I remember having a conversation with them about chesed projects. I was excited to learn about various groups within the Jewish communities and of important organizations that made an impact on them. It seemed that many of my parents’ friends did some sort of chesed activity or tzedaka collection in honor of their becoming b’nei mitzvot as well and this got me thinking: What is important to me?
As many of you know, my father’s battle with COVID, which left him in a 22-day coma back in March 2020, left a lasting impression on the greater Jewish community, on our insular Bergen County community, on our family, on my dad, and very much on me. I was only 9 years old at the time and honestly, I do not remember a lot of it. However, I do remember life-and-death decisions being made by my mother on behalf of my father at the advice of his doctors, and when I mean doctors I mean the doctors in Hackensack, my zaidy, Dr. Joey Shatzkes and many, many others who loved and cared about him, and still do.
These amazing doctors, through Hashem’s help, saved my dad, and when thinking about centering my bar mitzvah around a chesed that is meaningful to me, it was the idea of saving the lives of others that was most meaningful. While I am not a doctor, but rather just a 12-year-old boy from Bergenfield, I remembered that several years ago, my extended family donated an ambucycle to United Hatzalah of Israel in memory of my great-grandparents. Every week, the driver of the ambucycle, named Avraham, still sends WhatsApp messages to my savta before Shabbat, with a weekly update of how many lives he has saved, the babies he’s delivered, and how he has helped others in need—all with the speed of the ambucycle. I remember thinking: ‘I can do this! I can start a campaign to donate an ambucycle, which United Hatzalah of Israel, a fully free and volunteer organization, really needs…’—with some help of course.
An ambucycle is an ambulance on two wheels that can fit through super-small spaces, which usually leads to the fast
response time of 90 seconds or less, an unbelievable achievement. When I met with Eli Beer, founder and president of United Hatzalah of Israel, I was deeply moved by how similar his COVID experience was to my dad’s. Aside from that, his devotion to helping others and saving lives is something I identify with, and by adding one more ambucycle to his fleet of lifesavers, I could consider this my first mitzvah as a bar mitzvah.
When I shared this with my parents, my father began to cry and explained that a “bar mitzvah” is not just an age, but a recognition of how my past meets my future. Being a bar mitzvah is not only an accomplishment, but a responsibility to act and contribute to this world. And this, my first mitzvah, would be one that not only impacts me, but directly impacts the greater Jewish community.
I would be honored if you helped me achieve this goal by donating to my campaign at: israelrescue.org/joeyambucyclebarmitzvahproject. However, and more importantly, all adults (and kids, too!) can do meaningful chesed by giving tzedaka, by being kind to someone else, cheering up someone who is sick, helping a neighbor or a stranger, anonymously or not. So please ask yourself: What meaningful chesed can you do today?
Joey Goldsmith is the son of Michael and Elana Goldsmith.
