The Kindness Network
March 17, 2006
Shoshana Yehudit Greenbaum, 31, taught elementary school in Long Beach, NY. As part of her masters program, the dark-haired, pretty teacher was offered an all-expense paid summer program in Israel. She and her husband Steven Greenbaum were delighted. Steve accompanied her to Israel for the first weeks, and then returned to his job. The idyllic summer in Jerusalem brought an additional cause for joy: Shoshana and Steven were expecting their first child.
On the Thursday morning after he'd returned to their home in Passaic, New Jersey, Shoshana phoned Steven, glad that he'd arrived safely, already missing him. A friend invited her for lunch, but Shoshana didn't want to trouble anyone. She'd just grab a slice of pizza after classes. So she stopped at the corner of King George Streets and Jaffa Road on the afternoon of August 9, 2001, just before a Palestinian with a guitar case packed with explosives and nails entered the Sbarro pizza restaurant. The terrorist murdered Shoshana and fourteen others.
May her memory be for a blessing, we say in our Jewish tradition. But
how do you make sure that memory is a blessing?
The international media had already gathered as Steven Greenbaum deplaned
in Israel to bury his wife and his unborn child. The 37 year old Brooklyn-born
widower had the attention of the world. What a shame it would be to use
that spotlight to boil over in anger and hatred. So he spoke of religion
and struggle of good and evil in the world. The reporters turned away.
They weren't interested.
In the overwhelming days of mourning, amidst the horror and grief, Greenbaum
could find his only sparks of light in an idea that was vaguely forming
at the edge of his mind. He wasn't interested in revenge. Many would call
him naïve, but he knew that Shoshana's extraordinary goodness could
only be perpetuated by increasing kindness in the world.
He marked the 30th-day memorial ceremony first in Israel, and then with a second ceremony in New Jersey. His bereaved in-laws left on September 9, and Steven returned to his job as a computer analyst for the New York Transit Authority on September 10. On the next morning two planes crashed into the Twin Towers.
As darkness engulfed the city, he reinforced his pledge to light a spiritual candle.
Greenbaum gathered friends and acquaintances to brainstorm. They came with a modest idea: Let's exchange other stories of kindness. Everyone could use a daily dose of kindness. These wouldn't be grandiose heroine deeds like leaping into a fire to save a child or like Bill Gates donating millions of dollars to eradicate malaria, but reports of letting someone go ahead of you in a bank line, returning a lost notebook, or surprising a plumber by offering a compliment for arriving on time.
Not headline catching enough for the media, the stories could circulate in e-mail messages. At first there were a dozen or so participants, but within the first two months the numbers grew to 300. He eventually set up two organizations, two organizations in Shoshana's memory, a Jewish one called "A Tradition Of Kindness" and a general one called "Partners In Kindness. "
Greenbaum wanted to encourage people everywhere to do kindnesses each day.
One reader wrote about buying a beggar a small bottle of water, and another about sharing a Metrocard so that someone could get to a parade. One writer recalled the joy of filling a neighbor's refrigerator with food before they returned from vacation, and another recalled a moment from the past when he gave his socks to a cold, barefoot Vietnam War vet.
Today Greenbaum has 40,000 subscribers, with several hundred new subscribers every week to his daily doses of kindness. His own website has become a springboard for other websites promulgating niceness. The New York City Transit has started a kindness public awareness campaign among employees. He speaks in New York City schools and to groups.
This week, Greenbaum was delighted with a story of someone in Israel who was giving bus drivers Purim food gifts to thank them for providing transportation on a day when so many other Israelis enjoyed as a holiday.
"This is just the beginning, " Greenbaum promised by phone from New Jersey.
The stories, he said, remind readers of experiencing or witnessing kindness. "When they relive that feeling, they're infused with a sense of gratitude, which is a spiritual feeling. Generating this feeling is what being Jewish means to me. "
Steven Greenbaum knew he could have drawn a crowd by spewing anger and hatred. Who could have blamed him? "But that's not the way I look at our purpose in this world, " he said. "We're supposed to bring light to the world, not allow ourselves to become the tools of darkness. "
Purim, named for a lottery to choose a day of destruction and not Redemption,
marks one of the darkest moments of Jewish history. Redemption comes not
only with dramatic acts of bravery, but also with simple kindnesses, such
as giving credit to the doer of a worthy act. It ends with a promise of
light and joy and gladness. If Steven Greenbaum is right, we might just
get there, one kindness at a time.
Greenbaum's websites are:
http://www.traditionofkindness.org/
