My brother, Rabbi Yehoshua Dovid Kreindler, fondly called Shia Dovid by our family, passed away almost six years ago. With his Yahrzeit approaching in a couple of weeks, I thought I would share some lessons from his life that may inspire you as they have inspired me.
My brother lived with his family in North Miami Beach, where he was a high school teacher and college professor, and later found his calling as a hospital and hospice chaplain. Being a chaplain was truly his calling; his quirky sense of humor and his above and beyond ability to care deeply for others helped him do his job well and make a profound difference in the lives of the ill and dying.
My husband and I would sometimes take our children away for winter break, and my brother’s house was often the destination we chose for vacation Shabbatot. Many times, upon entering his house on Friday afternoon, we would find an elderly person whom my brother had invited for Friday night dinner. These widows and widowers were people whose spouse my brother helped, and after their deaths, Shia Dovid did not forget the surviving spouses. Invariably, the patient was not under my brother’s care for very long, so he didn’t really know the patient or spouse very well. He just knew that the chesed he did as his job did not stop at end of the day or the end of the patient’s life. There was still some good to be done and my brother was there to make people feel welcome during such a difficult time.
Shia Dovid was sometimes on call over Shabbat and he used this time to show hospital staff of all levels his appreciation for being an integral part of making the hospice run smoothly. He would call the orderlies by name and thank them for their help, and let physicians and other hospital professionals know when the families needed some reassurances or questions answered, all in a most respectful way filled with gratitude. A real highpoint on those Shabbatot was when the staff was invited to share Kiddush with my brother. He would put up a big crock pot of cholent, and its delicious smell wafting through the corridors would remind everyone that it was ready to be eaten. Shia Dovid liked his food with a kick, so the staff, with its wealth of ethnicities, looked forward to sharing his warmth and some hot and spicy chulent.
About 15 years ago, my brother saw the need for more information about geriatric and end-of-life care to reach the South Florida community. He broached the subject with the powers that be and kept hitting dead ends, so he decided to create a conference himself. He made reservations for the conference at a high-end hotel and spent many months planning the event from start to finish. Clergy of all faiths attended the conference—rabbis, priests, imams, pujari and the archbishop of Florida were all there. Hospitals, hospices, independent living and retirement communities, nursing homes and home care companies participated. Doctors of all specialties and social workers gave lectures and workshops. My brother had a kosher caterer bring gourmet boxed lunches for everyone. Even though it was not a mostly Jewish crowd attending, my brother felt that it was important to make sure that everyone was offered the same delicious choices and not to worry about serving non-kosher to a “not yet observant” Jew.
Shia Dovid invited the family to the conference, and my sister and I happily went down to Florida with my mother to attend and “schep nachas.” When we got there, we were blown away! My brother had thought of everything. We were so proud of him and our pride grew as we made our way through the exhibits, workshops and the incredible crowd who all gathered to improve the lives of the elderly and the infirm. Shia Dovid introduced us proudly to his colleagues, which made us feel very special. When I attended one of the workshops, I browsed through the brochure, which was placed on every seat in the auditorium. I assumed that my brother’s name would be on the front of the brochure, but it wasn’t. I found my brother’s name in the middle of the brochure since the names of the participants were alphabetized. All it said was, “Rabbi Joshua David Kreindler is a hospice chaplain and the organizer of this conference.” Later, when complimenting him on his accomplishments, I asked him why his name wasn’t on the front of the brochure. He told me that it was important that the conference took place, not who made it happen.
Some of the lessons from my brother’s life are:
- The need for acts of kindness in the world is rarely a one-shot deal. Often the need continues, so be sensitive to the needs of others. Small acts of kindness make a big difference.
- Smile at people and say a nice word—they are free and take little effort. And you may be a person’s only smile and kind word all day or week.
- Say thank you, often and sincerely.
- Make a difference with a full heart and a small ego.
May Yehoshua Dovid ben HaRav Yoel V’Chava Leah’s beautiful neshama have an aliyah.
By Sariva Sklar
Sariva Sklar is a certified family coach and social skills facilitator and consultant working with Bergen County Special Services. She sees adults and children privately as well. You may reach her at [email protected].
