Can you recall the first time you drove a car by yourself? Do you remember the thrill of sitting behind the wheel, the sense of being an adult, the feeling of being independent and of being cool? Along with all that, you may also have felt a slight increase in your heart rate as you put the key (we had keys back then!) into the ignition (and we had ignitions!), as the engine turned over, and as you put your foot on the break, shifted the gear into reverse, turned your head and looked out the back car window (we did not have rearview cameras), and drove out of the driveway and onto the street—alone, independent and powerful.
Like many firsts, this was probably exciting for you, though most likely not for your parents. It is the natural parental right of every parent to worry. Of course, some worry more than others, and some are even paralyzed by their worry, but despite your parents’ concern for your safety and the safety of every other person on the road at the time of your first solo car ride, your parents allowed you to drive anyway. Those of you with children yourselves who are now old enough to drive have similarly overcome your fears and permitted your own children to drive.
I come from a long line of women who worry. It is part of my DNA. I think that if there had been a prize for worrying, my own dear mother, a’h, would have won it every year. As I raised my children, I worked on myself to overcome my worrying gene so as not to stifle them too much with my anxiety over their safety.
A number of years ago, when my youngest son, Yosef, was a student at the Sinai high school in Teaneck, he asked to be allowed to walk to school by himself. My husband and I wanted to give him the opportunity to be independent and yet we were concerned about so many possible dangers. Would he get lost? Would he get distracted by the trains (he loves watching trains) and never make it to school? Would someone bother him on the way? The list of potential dangers was endless. Initially, we permitted him to walk to school once a week, and for the first several weeks, my husband followed him in the car at a safe distance behind. But after a short period of time, we realized that he was quite capable of walking by himself and that as a teenager, he wanted to assert his independence from us. I would be lying to say that the walk to and from Sinai always went well—there was, for example, the time that a police officer yelled at him for walking too close to the railroad tracks, but that is for another time. Nonetheless, we eventually let him walk to school regularly.
Fast forward a few years; Yosef now attends Yachad’s vocational program, which is housed in the Teaneck Jewish Center. A little over a year ago, we worked with someone from New Jersey Transit to train Yosef so that he could learn how to take the bus independently. Yosef will never drive a car, so his first solo ride on the bus was as exciting for him as somebody’s first solo car ride. As parents, we were worried about the same things that we had been worried about the first time he walked to school by himself, but we realized that our fear could not be the barrier to his independence.
This past Sunday, my husband and I were home for a while doing our usual Sunday afternoon activities when the doorbell rang. When our doorbell rings on Sunday afternoon, there is usually a meshulach (or several) waiting on the porch, so when my husband called me to come to the door, I was surprised to see a woman holding a large object in her hands. She introduced herself as Lillian. I had heard about Lillian from Yosef; she was a nice woman from the community whom he met regularly at the bus stop. Lillian told me that she had developed a nice relationship with Yosef while waiting together for the bus and she told me some wonderful things about him, sharing words that every mother wants to hear about her child (of any age). She then handed me a skateboard with a note from her to Yosef. Yosef apparently had told her that he wanted a skateboard for Chanukah and this lovely, kind woman bought it for him, wrote him a note wishing him Happy Chanukah, found out where he lived and stopped by the house to give it to him. My husband and I were quite touched by Lillian’s generosity and kindness. She went out of her way to make Yosef feel special; she probably had no idea how she would make us feel.
Since I often write about the body and health, permit me to share the little-known fact that being kind to others can make not only the recipient of the kindness feel positive, but it also boosts the giver’s level of serotonin, the neurotransmitter responsible for feelings of satisfaction and well-being. Like exercise, altruism also releases endorphins, part of a phenomenon known as a “helper’s high.”
Rabbi Benjamin Yudin recently published a beautiful article on Chanukah and chesed in Yeshiva University’s latest Torah To-Go. He wrote, “…a single candle initially lit for one person can in fact benefit countless others. Moreover, the fact that others benefit from his candle in no way detracts from his enjoyments. Similarly, when one does chesed, be it to one or to 100 beneficiaries, it does not detract from the donor and indeed most often comes back to enhance and enrich the donor.”
This Chanukah, let’s all try to do at least one act of kindness. Do it for others; do it for yourself!
Chag Urim Sameach!
By Beth Taubes, RN
Beth Taubes RN, OCN, CBCN, CHC,CYT, is the owner of Wellness Motivations LLC. She motivates clients of all backgrounds, ages and health conditions to engage in improved self-care through nutritional counseling, personal fitness training, yoga practice and stress reduction techniques. Gift Certificates for Chanukah available: [email protected] or wellnessmotivationsbt.com.
