My Friend, Nechy Zehnwirth, a”h
I walked nervously into Levindale geriatric center for my first day as a level II Occupational Therapy student in 1989. At age 36, I was an older student, pregnant with our fifth child. A young Orthodox Jewish woman introduced herself as Nechy Zehnwirth, my fieldwork supervisor. More then 10 years younger than I, she insisted on calling me Mrs. Shamberg. I never felt comfortable with formalities and insisted on first-name basis. She reluctantly agreed. She considered me an elder worthy of the respect of formality that she was used to in her observant Jewish upbringing.