A lady with dark skin, a big hat, and broken Hebrew, an Arab lady knocked on our Jerusalem door. First, I opened the door for her. She showed me hand crafted bags that she was selling. I did not need any of those bags, we had already bought a few in the past, so I declined buying the bags. But wait I said when she mentioned she has a sick child at home, I will give you some money. I checked my purse and gave the woman a 5 shekel coin, which in the Zol Tov supermarket chain on Emek Refaim street buys a kilo of potatoes, a kilo of onions and 400gr of tomatoes. Then she mentioned she had left home at 5am and was hungry. Did I have any bread I could give her?
Since am still home and yet to return to the office past the coronavirus season, I have a regime of daily healthy cooking. Today the green peas had just been cooked and the potatoes were still cooking in the oven. I did not hesitate not for a second, and asked the lady to wait. I got a plate and served a portion of peas and potatoes gave her a set of cutlery and two slices of bread and suggested to the lady to have the food at the garden of our building.
Ten minutes go by and there is another knock on our door, now it is Elias my husband who has come back from his morning walk. He reports there is a woman who is eating at the entrance to our building. Do I know who she is? I share what transpired and we both agree I handled the situation decently. Both gave the lady nourishment for her and some money to take home. It may be modest, but each time people knock on my door asking for money or food I try not to let them leave empty handed or empty hearted. I try to give something, a word of care asking about their situation, some money, and when I have no money at hand, a piece of fruit, or a package of rice.
The other day, a man came again, to ask for money. I had given him some the last time he had knocked on our door. This time, I looked around and had no money in my purse. So I opened my counter and got a 500gr package of rice which I handed on to him feeling I was of some help. But Avraham, declined my offer. “I am homeless,” he said, “I have nowhere to cook this.” His response was humbling to me, as I saw that my assumption of his having a house to return to was wrong. So not having anything to give this man I started asking him about himself. Avraham talked about his problems with the national insurance that has stopped assisting him financially. We had at least a conversation, I thought, I had shown him that someone cares.
As a kid I was blessed to have two parents who knew how to give. They knew how to give not just to their family but also to others, at times complete strangers who were in need. My dad mostly gave in secret, undisclosing the identity of the receiver.
My mother in contrast, gave in the open, disclosed. In downtown Athens, when a beggar would approach my mother, when she did not have any money at hand, she would check into her bags and her hands and give from the fruit she had just bought or from the koulouri (bagel) she was eating. Once I remember her cutting half of her koulouri and offering it to a stranger who said was hungry. To this day, my mum is a giver.
My mum taught me the lesson that we always have something to give! I am thankful to her cause no matter how much money I actually have in the bank or not, I always feel wealthy, having much to give!
I sense that now during this season that many among us are going through tough financial times, remembering that we always have something to give one another, our compassion, words of empathy, love, a plate of food, some bread, a glass of water, is a good reminder and practice strengthening our heart and giving muscles.
By giving and receiving from one another lovingly, we assert that we are part of one human family, where black and white, Jew, Christian and Muslim are brothers and sisters.
From Jerusalem with love,
Yvette Nahmia-Messinas