More Than Just a House

This week, I find myself in Birmingham, Alabama. I am staffing an alternative break trip for students from Wash U, GWU, and schools in the metro Detroit area in conjunction with the Jewish Disaster Response Corps (http://www.jdrcorps.org/).

We spent Monday volunteering in the community of Clay that was struck by a devastating tornado on January 23rd. It was startling to see the amount of debris that was blocking the streets and filling the yards of homeowners a full seven weeks after the tornado came through town. Our volunteers contributed a great deal to the recovery effort by spending the entire day clearing the debris and preparing it for organized pick-ups.

We transitioned to the Habitat for Humanity work site in Pratt City that we would be with for the rest of this week on Tuesday morning. Since our arrival, our volunteers have made some incredible progress on the house that we are helping to build. Among other things, we have installed insulation, weatherproofed windows, and applied vinyl siding. Our physical contributions to the house are impressive in their own right, but I didn't understand what they truly meant until earlier this afternoon.

I had the great honor and privilege of speaking with our homeowner, Ms. Taylor. She came by the site of her future home for what many would have considered a routine visit. But in this case, it was actually quite special. We didn't know whether or not we'd have the opportunity to meet Ms. Taylor as her health has suffered since Pratt City was hit by a tornado on April 28th of last year. This has made it difficult for her to spend much time on the work site.

The Habitat for Humanity site supervisor (Mr. Bill) introduced her to our group of volunteers. She took the opportunity to express her heartfelt gratitude for the work that we were doing. Just meeting her and seeing her smile would have been enough to inspire us to keep working for the rest of the week, but I had the chance to continue speaking with her one-on-one.

I feel so blessed and humbled by the experience of hearing her reflections on the past year and her visions for her future home. During our conversation, there were many examples of her strength, courage and perseverance. I will try my best to share a few with you now.

Ms. Taylor grew up just one block away from the site of her future home. After marrying her husband, she moved into a nearby apartment. Pratt City has been her home for her entire life. When the tornado hit last year, she found herself homeless. As she described to me, the devastating natural disaster stripped her of everything that she had. She lost so much more than a roof above her head. Her home had been a haven for her, a place to call her own. Since the tragedy, she hasn't been able to stay on her own. While she is incredibly appreciative of the friends and family that have taken her in while she waits for her permanent home, she acknowledged the fact that she is looking forward to reclaiming her identity as a homeowner. She can't wait to entertain her guests. She spoke of her grandchildren and children that would come to visit her. She smiled as she visioned herself sitting in a rocking chair on her wrap-around porch with a book in her hand.

When I asked what compelled her to rebuild in a community that has been devastated by tornado after tornado, she shared another anecdote with me. She said that G-d came to her in a dream and told her that she was to rebuild her life in Pratt City. She said it with such conviction, certainty and unwavering faith that I was left speechless. She knew that G-d brought the volunteers to help her create more than just a house. She was incredibly moved by the love being poured into created her home by complete strangers.

We were both at a loss for words, so we shared a hug. And then another. And another. The energy flowing between us was electrifying. Our different faith backgrounds, races, ethnicities, etc. became irrelevant. We understood each other on the most basic of human levels.

As she left the work site, I looked back at the house in front of us. I no longer saw the siding that still needed to be applied or the steps that needed to be built. I saw Ms. Taylor sitting in her rocking chair on her wrap-around porch with her favorite book in hand.

Food for the Soul

Over the past three years, I've had the privilege of watching my students do some pretty amazing things. I cherish the opportunities that I have to sit back and watch as they impact the world around them.

One of the groups that I advise is called Challah for Hunger. Every Thursday night, they gather to bake challah bread (in some delicious varieties, I might add). Every Friday, they sell the freshly baked loaves to raise money for the two charities that they support: the American Jewish World Service Sudan Relief and Advocacy Fund and the Harvey Kornblum Jewish Food Pantry. They also use this unique opportunity to educate their peers about food insecurity and global hunger. To learn more about the work they do, check out their website: https://www.sites.google.com/a/challahforhunger.org/washu/

As we were baking last week, we noticed that we had some extra dough. We were presented with an opportunity to share the challah that brought students on campus so much joy with people in our community who really needed it. I drove over to a local transitional shelter the very next day with nine loaves that smelled like they were fresh out of the oven. I was greeted with smiles and thank yous before heading back to work for one of our largest Shabbat dinners of the year, Interfaith Shabbat.

Over 200 students from different faith backgrounds came together to break bread and learn about our shared traditions. We enjoyed a meal full of all of the Shabbat classics: roasted chicken, potato kugel, green beans, salad, challah and brownies. Once we had our fill, we realized that we were blessed with too much food. So just five hours after my last visit, I hopped in the car with two of my students and headed back to the shelter to share the rest of our meals. The students were pleasantly surprised with how simple it was for them to make a difference.

While it would have felt good just to know that the food was going somewhere that it would be eaten; we felt better about the fact that it was going to a community. So much about baking and cooking and eating is about shared experiences. We can all afford to share the food, the stories, and the joy that nourish our souls through acts of lovingkindness.