As I write, this August of 2013, my mom is, b”H, almost 92 years old. Mom sleeps a lot and, as a result of a stroke, does not speak. Though she suffers from dementia, she does recognize her family and has retained her very pleasant personality and demeanor; she responds to us and to the wonderful caregivers with her trademark warm and friendly smile.
Those in our community who knew Mom in her vibrant younger years know that she was an excellent musician and a master gardener. She did outstanding chesed, with our home always open to guests. My parents used their home to give all our guests a very special and warm hachnasas orchim. Mom taught hundreds of Bais Yaakov and Hebrew school children to sing. She and my dad, also a musician, made beautiful music together – literally and figuratively – for over 55 years. The harmony was beautiful in both the shalom bayis and the melodies. My sister and I had a great childhood in a warm, loving Torah home, filled with beautiful minhagim, beautiful music, and, always, a beautiful garden.
Mom learned gardening from her father William Goldschmidt. Opa Goldschmidt had had a magnificent garden full of fruit trees and flowers in Limburg Germany. Fleeing Germany just before the outbreak of World War II, the family lost their home and their magnificent garden. Far worse, of course, was losing aunts, uncles, and cousins to Hitler’s terror.
Baruch Hashem, Mom’s immediate family escaped, and after a brief stay in Washington Heights (with no garden!) my grandfather purchased a chicken farm in Vineland, New Jersey. Years later, Mom picked flowers from their garden for her wedding.
My parents, my sister, and I lived on Linden Avenue, and there was a small garden behind the home. In 1958, we moved to Jonquil Avenue, where Mom began to plant an incredible garden.
One corner was a vegetable patch, where Mom taught me how to grow watermelons, corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, lettuce, parsley, dill, onions, other herbs, as well as tall yellow sunflower plants yielding loads of sunflower seeds. We also had a flourishing berry patch with red currents, gooseberries, and raspberries. Mom harvested that patch and made fruit pies with the berries. She also made pies from the apples we picked from our tree in the garden.
The garden provided my sister and me with much chinuch. How we remember making all sorts of brachos and shecheyanus over the fruit crops! When the first blossoms appeared, we were taken to the garden to say a special bracha. We learned the laws of orlah, not eating fruit from a tree’s first three years of growth. We even made a shecheyanu on the appearance of the 17-year locusts, an incredible miracle of nature. And when it began to rain, Mom always said, “Baruch Hashem, Hashem is watering my garden!”
For Sukkos, Mom grew aravos she got from Bais Yaakov. And on Shavuos, our home was full of beautiful flowers. My parents also provided Shearith Israel with decorative flower displays every Shavuos, a custom my Mom continues, b”H, to this very day. You see, for Mom, the garden was a way to serve Hashem. From esrogim to roses, all the plants were used for mitzvas and hiddur mitzva, making the mitzva even more beautiful.
I remember how Mom regularly brought flowers for Shabbos and especially for all Yom Tovim to our Rav at Shearith Israel and his family. Rabbi Shimon Schwab, zt”l, was our first Rav. I remember when Rabbi Mendel Feldman, zt”l, and his family came to Baltimore. On their very first Shabbos, we brought all the Shabbos food, along with freshly baked challas and a large bouquet of roses from our garden. That Shabbos, Rebbetzin Feldman, the Rav, and their son Pinchas came to visit our garden. Mom continued her custom when Rabbi and Mrs. Hopfer arrived.
Mom’s green thumb and gardening talents provided many friends with beautiful Shabbos bouquets. She also delivered flowers to elderly friends and to nursing homes and hospitals, and proudly gave tours of her fabulous garden to many adults and especially to children.
My bar mitzva reception took place in our garden, of course, with an open house on the Sunday following my Shabbos aliyah to the Torah. And in later years, as grandchildren arrived, she loved playing with them, often singing and playing her lute in her garden.
The flowers were fantastic: red hollyhocks, yellow jonquils, marigolds, narcissus, forsythia, purple lilacs, blue fluffy hydrangeas, orange and yellow day lilies, Maryland black-eyed Susans, magnificent roses, lilies of the valley, and ferns were a few of the species Mom lovingly tended to. Her Chinese lanterns were sought out by local nurseries; Mom would trade them for garden supplies, plants, flowers, and other gardening needs.
Mom’s garden even extended indoors. For many years she grew esrogim, which my father proudly used for Succos. Mom’s esrog tree was in a special room in the home, and was placed outside only during the summer months. Our home was filled with many plants, which Mom nurtured all year round.
These days, I try to bring Mom yellow roses every erev Shabbos, and, baruch Hashem, I get a big smile. She gets great joy from her Shabbos flowers.
Mom’s garden as well as her music where inspired by her parents, and both were used to serve Hashem besimcha (with joy). Mom planted well, and may Hashem grant her a bountiful harvest in nachas from her grandchildren and great grandchildren. Invei hagefen ve’invei hagefen. May Hashem keep watering her garden.
Leshana tova to all my readers and friends from my Mom, my family, and me.â—†
