I’m a born collector. You name it, I’ve probably collected it at one time or another. This lifelong activity started when I was about five years old. I have vivid recollections of digging mica from the dirt surrounding the towering maple tree in our front yard. That experience, no doubt, led to my avocation of collecting gemstones. Around the same time, I started collecting seashells. I couldn’t (and still can’t!) tear myself away from the ocean – most probably because I was spoiled by weekly Sunday family trips to nearby Long Island Sound, where I’d comb the beach for Hashem’s fascinating marine creations. After that, there were collections of butterflies, stamps, coins, autographs, baseball and football cards, record albums, charms, and soda bottle caps, to name just a few. And I can still feel those highly polished chestnuts, abundant each autumn, that I gathered in a large brown paper bag in the nearby park.
There is another thing I have been collecting my whole life, though on a subconscious level: people. It’s funny; I never thought of my friends as a collection. But people have more than once commented that I collect friends the way some people collect…(fill in the blank). Come to think of it, my eclectic collection of people began around the same time I started to collect mica.
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Robin is my most longstanding childhood friend. Even our parents and grandparents knew one another, back in New Haven, since we belonged to the same shul. Robin and I went to the same schools, and at one point we lived down the street from one another. We attended the same college in New York, and after marriage – although neither of us married Baltimoreans – we both settled in Baltimore, where we lived a few doors down from one another. It was not surprising that we got to spend quality time in Sinai Hospital, when we were both there after giving birth, a day apart, over a three-day-Rosh Hashanah Yom Tov. And although Robin recently moved to Lakewood, we still keep in touch.
I keep in touch with other schoolmates, too. There’s Idell, who moved to Acton, Massachusetts; Debbie, who moved to Seattle, Washington; and Anne, whom I finally found, after years of Googling, in Kingman, Arizona! Nor have I forgotten about my contingency of friends from high school and college who made aliyah: Gail, Heidi, Mary, Brachy, and Chaya. I make it a point to try to see them when I visit my son and his family in Israel. I even visited my childhood friend, Marcy, for a month, when she lived in South Africa! When I have occasion to be in New York, I do my best to get together with my sisters-in-law; my college roommate, Shifra; my machetainista Renae; and some other friends and distant cousins. My former Bais Yaakov high school boarders, who moved to New York and Montreal, are more like surrogate daughters to me; they are also a part of my wonderful collection.
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It seems I am not the only Baltimorean who collects people. Mrs. Naomi Miller, of Western Run Drive, hosted me for Yom Tov meals decades ago, when I was a college student visiting the Bostoner community. She reminded me of myself when she said, “I love people; I’m a people person. I’m even close to my second and third cousins. I have close friends all over the world. But there are a lot of people I don’t have contact with that I would like to reconnect with.”
I asked Naomi when she started collecting people. “Always and forever,” she answers. Upon reflection, though, she remembers that it began in kindergarten, when her friend Rozi taught her a powerful lesson “I was very attached to Rozi,” recalls Naomi, “and I was devastated, because I saw her playing with another girl. Rozi told me, ‘Naomi, you’re still my friend, but we have to make other friends, too.’”
Naomi still enjoys a very close friendship with Charlotte, with whom she walked a mile home from school, every day, in Cincinnati. “Although Charlotte wasn’t observant, she respected my father’s wishes of her wearing skirts when she came to our house,” says Naomi. “She never had children, so she thinks I am amazing because I have a large family. She is a retired lawyer living in San Francisco, and she always sends me very sweet ‘for your pleasure’ gifts; I sent her candy for Rosh Hashana.”
Another of Naomi’s friends is a “girl” who boarded with her family 38 years ago. “I became friendly with Basya when we lived in Boston, and she attended Smith College,” remembers Naomi. “My husband and I walked her and her husband down to their chupa. Today, she has nine children, and we are still in touch.”
Naomi has had one friend for generations, literally. Naomi’s mother was close friends with a girl whose father was a Hebrew teacher in their village in Germany. The two girls were born a month apart, in 1914. In 1938, before the war broke out, both young women immigrated to the States, and the friends kept in touch, even though Naomi’s mother moved from New York to Cincinnati. Naomi carries on the family friendship until this day, remaining close to her mother’s friend’s daughters.
When Naomi first got married, she formed a close friendship with Dr. Carmi and Sara Horowitz. “I babysat for their children,” notes Naomi. “Her husband was in Rabbi Dr. Twersky’s Jewish Studies program in Harvard, and she was a ‘domestic engineer,’ like me. They live in Israel now, but I got together with her when I was there this past winter, and we had a great time.”
The Horowitzes are not the only friends Naomi met while in Israel. Her husband, Reuven took a class given by Rabbi Dovid Weinberger at Ohr Somayach. When Rabbi Weinberger found out that Reuven’s wife was his wife Devorah’s roommate at Stern College, he encouraged them to get together. The two long-lost friends met over dinner, and had a wonderful time. Unfortunately, Naomi got bad news six weeks later. “Devorah was in a horrific car accident and was nifteres,” says Naomi. “She lost control after Arabs threw rocks at her car. I recently made a connection with her son, who lives in Baltimore.”
Recently, another former college roommate, Penny, looked Naomi up and found her, after many years. “This also goes back to Germany,” says Naomi. “My grandparents lived in a small village called Tann. There was no rabbi there, so Rabbi Okilica, a rabbinical student who traveled from town to town, was hired. He used to board with my grandparents, but my grandparents moved to Haifa, in 1935, because my grandfather was a butcher and could not sell kosher meat anymore. Their boarder eventually moved to Connecticut. My friend Penny knew Rabbi Okilica from childhood. When she was invited to his 100th birthday party, in Crown Heights, just before Pesach, she realized when they read a review of his life, that he had lived with my grandparents, the Rabensteins, in Tann. She got so excited she called me, and we have been staying in touch. I am also still friends with Betty, Rabbi Okilica’s daughter.”
When I asked Naomi what it is about her that makes her the people collector that she is, she answered, “I’m a good listener, and I’m not judgmental. I let people talk, and I try to help them in my own small way. Maybe it is just because I like people. I get along with most people. I enjoy them for who they are and appreciate their differences. I’m not into cookie-cutter people, who think they have to act and speak a certain way. I really enjoy people who are genuine in personality and dress. And I am blown away by some people because of their sincerity,” continued Naomi.
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Natalia Pensak (yes, we are related; she’s my daughter-in-law) can pick up where she left off with her high school chums. She is in touch with them, if not weekly, a few times a month. “People feel comfortable talking to me,” says Natalia, “whether it is a heavy, deep conversation or a light one. I’m a listener, although I’m very good at talking, too! One of the things I do when friends ask me for advice is give an answer that is fitting for them, rather than what I would do in that circumstance.
“I like people, I like to learn, and I like to learn from people,” continues Natalia. “It is easy to find someone interesting if you are looking to learn something new. Sometimes, in the course of a conversation, you not only find out something new about a person, you find out something new about yourself. I really try to be non-judgmental, because everyone has their own journey. Some people take the scenic route and some take the fast lane. All types of people are interesting and have something unique to contribute to the relationship.”
Not all of Natalia’s friends are from the same “batch,” as she says. Some are similar to her, some are different. “Some are more introverted and some are more out there like firecrackers!” says Natalia. “Their religious level doesn’t matter to me, either. I think the point of view I have in making friends carries over to my relationship with my sisters-in-law. We are all different from one another, yet we are friends. It‘s rewarding, in a friendship, when you pick up your friend‘s good qualities, and they pick up yours. I don’t need someone to be the same as me to feel close to her.”
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Moshe F. keeps in close contact with his several friends, who trace back to kindergarten. His longest standing friend lives in Lakewood now, and Moshe speaks to him on the phone and tries to get together when he comes to town. He also keeps up with his buddies from his Mirrer Yeshiva days, in Israel. One of them lives in Monsey, and two still live in Eretz Yisrael.
“I see my Monsey friend often, since our in-laws live across the street from one another in New York,” says Moshe. “We schedule a learning seder or a melaveh malka, together, when we are both visiting our in-laws.”
Moshe is a friendly and personable guy, who speaks to everyone. According to his wife Bracha, “He’s friendly to everyone and makes conversation to everyone: store owners, the mail lady, and the taxi drivers in Israel; that is who he talked to the most!”
When I asked Bracha if she realized Moshe was a people collector when they were dating, she answered, “Yes, to some extent, but it was not the same as when I saw him in action – like in a store, where he would speak to everyone! He really does make an effort to keep in touch with people. He is very loyal and would help out a friend in whatever way he can.”
“When I go to New York, I will call or text my friends who live there to see if they want to get together,” says Moshe. “Would I go out for a cup of coffee with them, as women might do? No, not really. I am just happy to sit on a friend’s living room couch and shmooze it up with them. I happen to like shmoozing.”
Although most of Moshe’s friends are around his age, some of them are older. “There are different types of friends,” notes Moshe. “Some are for camaraderie to discuss issues, but there are also older ones who can offer advice and insights into things that I might not think of. I have one friend who is 12 or 13 years older, who is also a mentor I turn to for advice – regarding making the right move, for example, or concerning some issue that is going on in my life. It’s a friendship, a mutual relationship. He would call me if he needed a favor.”
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Evelyn Hyman was a rebbetzin in Augusta, Georgia, for 30 years, and just as she and her husband, Rabbi Maynard Hyman, a”h, were about to retire, they were invited to take the pulpit in Chattanooga, Tennessee. They served there for 14 years. “I keep in touch with a lot of my members from both places,” says Rebbetzin Hyman. “When you are the rebbetzin in a small town, you do everything – teach kindergarten, give bas mitzva lessons, preside over the sisterhood, you name it! I have former bas mitzva students with whom I am very close, who are 33, 50, and 60 years old. They invite me to their weddings and call me all the time to consult with me. I’m still their rebbetzin. They invite me back, fly me in, and wine and dine me when I get there, whether it is for a baby naming or some other simcha. We fell in love with Augusta, and they loved us in return. I still have very dear friends in Chattanooga, too.”
What is Rebbetzin Hyman’s secret when it comes to attracting friends like a magnet?
“I love people, and that transmits to them,” explains the rebbetzin, who adds that she still stays in touch with her Bronx childhood friends. “I’m interested in them and in helping them. People are comfortable speaking to me. They know I care about them.
“When I moved to Baltimore and started davening in Shomrei Emunah, I came in as a total stranger. I approached people and said ‘Good Shabbos.’ I find that people love being greeted. I talk to people – not only in shul but wherever I go, whether it is walking the track or at the JCC. I’ll say things like, ‘Oh, that color you’re wearing is one of my favorite colors,’ or ‘You’re a great swimmer; how about giving me a few pointers?’ That’s me. It’s a lot of fun.
“I make friends wherever I am,” continues Rebbetzin Hyman. It doesn’t make any difference who or what or where or when. I don’t care where I live; no matter which state or neighborhood. I can always fit in. There is always a nice word to say to people. If you are friendly to people, they will be friendly to you. I enjoy laughing, and I enjoy smiling. I’m grateful and satisfied and just make the most out of every moment. I have no desire to be wealthy or famous. I’m same’ach bechelki – happy with my lot.”
ã Margie Pensak-2014
