This story has many beginnings, depending on how far back you
want to go. I can start it from when I first met Tzirel. You
know how they describe a laugh as `infectious'? Well,
everything about Tzirel is `infectious': beginning with her
smile, her warm manner, her positive attitude to everything,
and the content of what she says. You listen — and get
swept up with whatever project she's cooking up at the
time.
Let's skip a bit to when I discovered that she had a daughter
who wrote. All of 13, this kid had talent — and her
stories have made it in YATED's HOME AND FAMILY section about
a dozen times!
Tzirel has been an exciting, infectious asset to the
Mattersdorf community ever since she moved in years ago, and
that is a whole story in itself. But, as we are not writing a
book, we will get on — and get to Tzirel's show.
Tzirel's latest project is "Meor Yerusholayim," a special
Yeshiva Ketana for high functioning boys with disabilities.
High functioning means that they can read. Her own Yisroel, a
very likeable Down's Syndrome teenager, can read and write,
but is still immature for his age, which is why he is not
officially bar-mitzva-ed with the responsibilities that
adulthood entails.
Tzirel tried many schools for Yisroel. For one reason or
another, none were suitable. One was behind the Green Line,
right near an Arab village, practically smothered under
barbed wire. Others were not up to her standard of
Yiddishkeit. They were not for Yisroel, who is a very
sensitive, very G-d-loving and sincere child. She tells me
about one Rosh Hashono, at a time when he still did not have
a school to go to . . .
He went to shul, but after a while, became restless
and needed a breather, and she went for a long, long walk
with him. Every yeshiva they passed by, he turned to
his mother with tears in his eyes and asked, "Maybe they
would take me in." Or a playground of a yeshiva where
children were playing outside. "Maybe they would let me join
them, here?"
He was without a suitable framework until she discovered Meor
Yerusholayim, which had been in existence for a dozen years,
numbering at the time two boys, one rebbe, and one incredible
woman with all the credentials for special education. (A
universtiy degree for professionalism and for Yiddishkeit
— her father was Rav Sheinberg's rebbe!) Focus now on
Neshi Natanli Sterman, a woman past her seventies, coming in
every day to make sure that the school will function and
guiding with her professionalism in special ed.
Thanks to Tzirel, the school has grown, with several classes
taught by devoted rebbeim, the incredible Yerushalmi breed of
teachers who have an inborn aptitude for conveying Torah and
Torah values to their students. I believe that these
melamdim are a throwback to Shevet Shimon, whom Yaakov
blessed to be melamdim, for that is what they are, par
excellence.
I ramble, because I have a lot to say, and as an English high
school teacher once complained about me, when I get
emotional, my syntax goes haywire. I'm still not sure what
syntax is, but I do know that I am trying to say a lot in one
shot.
Tzirel discovered this `school,' no budget, just that one
room, one rebbe. But the rebbe was teaching a retarded
teenage boy — and holding his hand to make sure that
the lesson would penetrate the limited capacity through his
caring — a la the famous Talmudic Rav Preida.
Tzirel is the self-appointed fundraiser for Meor
Yerusholayim, now that her son is in the program. It has
expanded to several classes with a 5 to 1 ratio. The boys
have extracurricular activities, like swimming once a week.
When one of the boys couldn't afford the pool, she found a
neighbor to subsidize it, and this has been going on ever
since.
Meor Yerusholyaim has become a Mattersdorf project. The first
fundraiser event was a talk featuring Rebbetzin Meisels and
her unforgettable talk on saying "Amen." That brought in 1500
shekel but made Tzirel particularly happy for several
reasons. First of all, the message and its long range impact
on everyone who was there: families now concentrate on saying
brochos out loud and answering `amen.' For that alone,
Tzirel says it was worth it.
Secondly, was that composer and choir choreographer, Miri
Israeli, was in the audience. She was so moved by Tzirel's
talk that she came to her afterwards, offering to devote a
whole concert for the school's benefit. And so she did,
complete with the new song, "Amen," which she composed for
it.
That was performed for an audience of 500 (myself included;
it was marvelous!), and brought in 7,000 shekel. Next event
was "Soup, Salad and a Shiur." Tzirel prepared the soup-
salads herself for 200 women, doing all the cooking herself
aside from some lovely cakes donated by young women.
The turnout was disappointing. Only 35 women showed up. But
the program was certainly not. Still, what to do with all
that food? And what about the money that was supposed to come
in? But it takes a lot to get Tzirel down. One fine neighbor,
sensing her deep disappointment, came over to her and said,
"Could I buy the leftovers for $200?"
"Done!"
Tzirel gets a call two days later from a woman in our
neighborhood who distributes fruits and vegetables to needy
local families. "You don't know how happy you made twenty
families! They licked their fingers on your delicious soup
and salads, and they bless you heartily."
I meet Tzirel on Shabbos and she tells me the whole story.
She got 2000 shekel — she really doesn't know how
— from that luncheon, but she wants to pass on a lesson
she learned from her disappointed great expectations.
"We really should have raffled off those leftovers. I came
prepared with containers for the leftovers, and the food
really was delicious. At any rate, I would like you to pass
on the idea to YATED readers. Whenever there is some kind of
social event — why not offer to buy off the extra cakes
and refreshments? It will bring in added income to the
organization and provide great leftovers for the folks at
home."
So that's it. Tzirel in a nutshell with a cherry on top and
Meor Yerusholayim, with some new interesting projects coming
up which you won't want to miss (after Pesach, she promises
me), and lots of lots of chessed and good works.
So you'll forgive the poor syntax, this time, won't you? And
by the way, Tzirel's phone number is 02-5373026.
