Five years before my grandmother left this world, I attended a fundraiser at a local synagogue. The goal of the evening was to support a meaningful Jewish cause, one that provides food to hundreds of needy, elderly, isolated, and vulnerable individuals in the community.

I felt grateful to be part of something important. I was growing in my Jewish observance and cared deeply about not compromising the values that were becoming part of who I was. I had some questions about the kosher food provided at the event.

It would have been easy to remain silent, to avoid discomfort, to tell myself that this was not my responsibility. Yet something deeper within me insisted that truth is not situational and that values are not meant to be adjusted for convenience or social ease.

I approached the main organizer, a kinds and regal man named Sam Domsky, and respectfully discussed the details of the kosher food requirements.

Sam listened carefully and acknowledged my explanation concerning kosher food. He promised that future events would reflect that requirement and we parted ways on this positive thought.

Little did I know that this moment would carry forward long after the evening ended.

Five years after this seemingly ordinary event, in May 2020, during the height of the COVID 19 pandemic, my grandmother Zelda passed away at almost 96 years old. She left behind a life defined by resilience, dignity, and return to her Jewish heritage. Despite being born just a........

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