President’s Message

BY AUDREY AXELROD TRACHTMAN

“There is no life without a task; no person without a talent; no place without a fragment of God’s light waiting to be discovered and redeemed”

— Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, How to Heal A Fractured World

My sister, Beth Axelrod Weinberger, passed away on February 6. Beth was given an unfair deal in life -— she was born cognitively impaired. But it did not derail her from living a happy, satisfied life, finding love, and making meaningful connections.

Her success started with my parents. Beth went to Camp Morasha when she was eight years old. I was going, so Beth was going too. There was no special education inclusion then. Yachad was 30 years in the future. So what? A highlight of shiva was hearing from friends I haven’t spoken to in 50 years, reminiscing fondly about Beth and how natural it was having her in the bunk. They remember her ever-present smile.

After graduating from a paraeducation course at NYU, Beth worked as a teacher’s assistant in a small nursery school. When the school closed, it was hard to find another job. So she volunteered at a local hospital. For Beth, volunteering was serious business. It meant 9-to-5, rain or shine. She was on a first name basis with doctors, nurses, and orderlies — because she was genuinely interested in everyone she met. But, she desperately wanted to be paid for her work. “Networking” and “advocating” came naturally to her. Beth made friends and they had her back. A nurse in the hospital found out that there was an opening for a tray serving position that Beth could handle, but the hospital didn’t want to hire her. After some not so gentle behind the scenes prodding, Beth was hired. Against expectations, she did more with the job than I’m sure anyone else could or would have. She would chat with everyone she served. In the process, she made them feel good. Beth was my only sibling. Growing up with her made me acutely sensitive to inequality. It is a major reason that when I stopped working, I doubled down on my commitment to AMIT. At AMIT, we more often talk about leveling the playing field for children from economically and socially disadvantaged backgrounds. We also do it for kids with learning disabilities. Our mantra — “We are the No. 1 educational network in Israel“ — is based on nine criteria that the Ministry of Education uses in its evaluation. Surprisingly (in a good way), one of the nine criteria is special education inclusion. I am proud that we are in the top tier for this criterion.

So, how do I tie my sister’s life story into Passover, the Festival of Freedom? Most of us are extremely fortunate. We have the freedom to choose what we want to do with our lives. But too often, while we consider the rich array of choices spread out before us, we fail to notice the people a little off to the side, sometimes out of view. They don’t have the same freedom to choose their lives. What Beth did was provide people with opportunities to notice her. She had the courage and natural grace to make people see her caring, generous spirit as well as her needs and potential. Beth made everyone kinder and more supportive than they might otherwise have been. And they gave her the freedom to live her life as she dreamed.

This is the lesson I learned from my sister’s life. Even when others were helping her, she was helping us learn the life lessons of chesed (loving kindness), character, humility and grace. And that’s an incredible legacy.

Although Beth always wanted to get married, it was hard to imagine it would happen. The shidduch with Mark was made through friends but it was undoubtedly God’s handiwork. They were a happy couple — she would make sure they got invited and he was the wheels who got them there. I can see Beth and Mark walking home from shul together and talking, not exactly in rhythm but close. Mark would talk sports. She would nod her head and sort of listen, thinking about what she was making for Shabbos.

Thank you, AMIT family, for your kind messages of condolence.