In the book The Maggid at the Podium, Rabbi Paysach Krohn tells the story of a slaughterhouse in Argentina that opened every day at 5:00 a.m. and closed at 6:00 in the evening. The owner, Zev, stayed until 8:00, when he would turn off the lights, drive to the guardhouse, say good-night to Pedro, the security officer. Then he and Pedro would leave, each in his own car. One night, Zev stopped at the guardhouse as usual and said, “Time to go home, Pedro.”
“We can’t go,” Pedro replied. “Rabbi Berkowitz, one of the shochtim, hasn’t left yet.”
“How do you know?” Zev asked. “It’s two hours after closing time.” Zev doubted Pedro, but the guard was insistent. So Zev and Pedro went back into the plant to look for the missing shochet. They unlocked the door to the huge walk-in freezer and were stunned to see Rabbi Berkowitz, rolling around on the floor trying to stay warm. He had accidentally locked himself in the freezer, and no one had known about it.
After they helped Rabbi Berkowitz out and made sure he was not injured, Zev asked Pedro, “How did you know he hadn’t left yet?”
Pedro replied, “That Rabbi always says good morning to me when he arrives and every night before he leaves, he says, ‘Good night, have a pleasant evening.’ I wait for it, because almost no else pays attention to me; to them, I’m just the security guard. But this Rabbi makes me feel important, so I wait for his good night blessing. I knew he was here this morning, and I knew that he hadn’t left yet!”
Greeting Each Other
Rabbi Berkowitz’s nightly greeting to Pedro actually saved his life. Greeting people does not usually have such dramatic results – although we can never really know the outcome of our words – but even if our hello does not save a life, it surely prevents feelings of alienation and creates a sense of achdus (unity) in our community.
At a large community gathering on Shiva Assar B’Tamuz, Rabbi Yaakov Hopfer and Rabbi Moshe Hauer, in the name of the Rabbanim of Baltimore, urged that everyone in Baltimore work on greeting others. Rabbi Hopfer explained that they wanted to hold on to the tremendous feeling of achdus (unity) that was kindled by the kidnapping and subsequent murder of the three boys in Eretz Yisrael. And they wanted an action that everyone could do, a modest goal that was meaningful and generated good feelings but that was not too difficult or grandiose to last.
It seems that Baltimoreans are taking the Rabbis’ message to heart. “Since the asifa,” says Mrs. Smolick,* “I try to remember to be friendly with the people around me, rather than just taking care of business. For instance, I asked one of the ladies at a JCC exercise class if she had been a dancer, since she did the exercises so gracefully; it led to a pleasant conversation that neither of us would have otherwise had.”
“I try to greet at least one new person every day,” says Rabbi Avraham Cohen of Shelburne Road. “It is not that hard, and I am always surprised at how much you can learn from each person. I especially like greeting young people, because I myself am a little older.”
For some people, of course, greeting others is a longtime habit. Mr. Martin* was shopping in the supermarket, wearing clothing that identified him as a rabbi. He greeted a woman in the store with a smile. As Mr. Martin was loading the shopping into the car with his wife, the woman came over to him and declared emotionally, “You know this is the first time a rabbi ever smiled at me.”
Mrs. Kaplan,* a prominent person in the community, lived in the same apartment building as Betty, a recent immigrant. Every day, they meet in the lobby, and Mrs. Kaplan greeted Betty with a smile and a few words. That one-minute encounter each morning made Betty feel valued even though she was a newcomer and could hardly speak English.
Alienation Is Painful
We all crave validation by others. Rabbi Hauer spoke about people feeling alienated from their fellow Jews – of feeling hurt when others pass by without greeting them, and imagining that the other person looks down at them or doesn’t respect them.
Here, at the Where What When, we have occasionally received letters expressing anger and hurt at feeling invisible at Seven Mile Market or not being answered when saying “Good Shabbos.” It’s easy to chalk up such complaints to over-sensitivity; most likely, the slights are not intentional. Such cries from the heart are nevertheless an opportunity for introspection. As Rabbi Hauer said at the asifa, referring to people not greeting each other, “It is often an imagined slight. The other person may have been engrossed in a conversation or immersed in thought and didn’t ignore them intentionally. But why is there room for imagined slights? It is because we don’t often enough say that we care for each other. So if you are in shul, a gas station, or store, hang up the phone and acknowledge the people you meet. Even if they look or dress differently from you, reach out and show that you care.”
Negative experiences can lead to negative feelings, as whole segments of the community are judged by the careless actions of a few, provoking comments like this: “I met a whole group of girls from school XYZ, and none of them answered me when I said hello. That school teaches them not to be friendly to people like me,” says Miriam. How different this speaker’s attitude would be if she had received a greeting acknowledging her existence.
Beyond Hello
Smiling and saying hello are a vital first step. In truth, making people feel comfortable, valued, and included goes much further than simply greeting them. It takes being mindful and aware of others at all times, and is a natural extension of the Rabbis’ proposal.
“I find the social scene at weddings or dinners very difficult,” says Shifra. “If I don’t know many people, and I don’t find someone with whom to strike up a conversation, it can be very lonely. My husband and I were at a dinner. We sat at a table with a few other couples who knew each other well. Even though they said hello to us and introduced themselves, we felt very left out, because they did not include us in their conversation at all.”
I had the opposite experience at a wedding I attended a while ago. I entered the hall after everyone was seated. The only empty seat was at a table where I did not know a soul. Sitting down timidly, I was pleasantly surprised when the ladies immediately turned to me, introduced themselves and explained their relationship to the baalei simcha. But, while I remember how good I felt, I still find it difficult to do the same for others
We all feel more at ease with people whom we know. That is why dinner committees and baalei simcha work so hard on place cards for their events. Everybody wants to sit next to people with whom they are familiar, and some people will not even attend if they are not seated with their friends. It is for this reason that it is particularly important at such gatherings to approach strangers and welcome them into our circles.
Some people are experts at it! I asked some friends how they do it: Rivka says, “I have no problem talking to people I don’t know. Once I saw a young lady in shul on Rosh Hashanah who looked like a newcomer. I introduced myself, and it turned out that it was just a week after her sheva brachos. Later, she told me that I was the only one who had welcomed her to our community.
“When my husband and I passed the new young couple walking home, I called out to the man, ‘Did you buy her flowers for Yom Tov?’ My horrified husband asked, ‘What would you have said if he didn’t?’ I would have reminded him to buy them for Sukkos,” Rivka laughed.
“Even though I am an introvert by nature, I always try to connect to the people around me,” says Sarah, another natural. “Here are a few steps that can help at a social affair: I introduce myself and ask for their name. A compliment is always a good opening. Then I try to find something we might have in common, like a school, a hometown, a shul, or a friend.”
Another friend, Barbara, says, “I like to guess what the person does for a living, which makes for a good conversation opener. I also make friends while waiting in doctors’ offices. I have found out a lot of helpful information that way as well.”
Penina makes a point of greeting everyone she meets: the cashiers at the supermarket, the MVA employees, and the lifeguards at the JCC. “Everyone likes to be noticed,” she says, “and not feel like they are part of the equipment. Often, I’ll comment on their name tag. I might say, ‘That’s an interesting name. How do you pronounce it?’ Or ‘I love your sweater; it really matches your eyes.’ It is amazing to see the most grim people smile and thaw out when they are treated like human beings.”
Avraham Cohen also understands the importance of names, and uses a special technique to help him remember them. “Everybody feels good to be greeted by name,” he says. After he introduces himself and the other person tells him his name, he thinks of a clue to help him remember the name in the future. “You can excuse yourself one time and say ‘I don’t remember your name,’ but if you say that every time you meet, it gets old very quickly. I use visual memory tricks to remember. For example if the person’s name is Meir Shpitz, I might imagine myself holding a seltzer bottle that I shpritz and the shpritz comes out as little beams of light, because Meir means light. Crazy at it sounds, it will help me remember the name next time I see him.”
Baltimore: The City that Greets
Years ago, trying to encourage reading among residents, then-Mayor Kurt Schmoke Baltimore coined the motto, “Baltimore, The City That Reads.” Playing on that theme, perhaps, Rabbi Hopfer said he would be proud if Baltimore became known as “The City That Greets.” Greeting people is not a huge commitment, and its results can be far reaching. Unlike other aspects of life, where one person may be more powerful or influential than another, in this area we are all equally vulnerable. Old or young, male or female, rich or poor, black or white, learned or ignorant, famous or not so famous – we all know the feeling of being ignored, and we all know the swell of happiness when we are acknowledged and included.
Many years ago, on Rosh Hashanah, I was walking near the Cross Country Elementary School, and a little girl greeted me, saying, “Happy New Year.” Although she was about 50 years younger than I, a different religion, and a different race, it made me feel good. Although it was a regular school day for her, she knew it was a holiday for us, and was mindful enough to greet me with the right words. As human beings, we all have the ability to greet each other and improve achdus in the world.
