My Pushke Box.
Maybe you have to be a Jew of a certain age to know what a pushke (pronounced pushkee) box is. Maybe they don’t even call them that anymore, these banks in which Jews deposit change to give to Israel and other related causes. Tikkun Olam is the commandment for all Jews to do their part to heal the world. It’s integral to the religion and charitable giving is one way it is accomplished. Thus, the pushke boxes, which are ubiquitous and prominent at the cash register of every Jewish retail establishment.
My pushke box was given to me by my daughter-in-law. She had no idea what it was, just that it was a bank and it had Hebrew on it. That was enough for her to think–great, my Jewish mother-in-law will like this. I did. Sort of. I liked the idea of her thinking of me. And I love the idea of Tikkun Olam. So I put my pushke box on my desk and whenever I found spare change, I’d drop it in. It is, now, full.
Trouble is, there’s many a slip between cup and lip, not to mention the best of intentions, etc. etc. etc. My pushke box has been full for several years now and still it sits waiting to fulfill the mitzvot.
If I were a good Jew, I would simply drop the contents off at my synagogue. But that would assume I had a synagogue, which I don’t, which is why I’m not a good Jew. Or I’d pack up the contents (perhaps exchanging the heavy coins for some crisp bills) and send it to the Jewish National Fund, who are, after all, the mainstay of the pushkes. But I’m not a good Jew. So my pushke box sits here, stuffed to the gills with coins, while in Israel, children go hungry and trees go without planting.
Jewish Identity & Grocery Stores
Every year at the Passover seder, we vow “next year we will all be in Israel.”It’s a part of the service that reminds us that we’re all, those of us who don’t live in Israel, wandering Jews. I have, over the years, wandered to some very goyishe places, not the least of which was Amador County, where the only other Jews were the dead ones in the 19th century Gold Rush era cemetary.
A close second, perhaps, was Elk Grove and last year I mourned the absolute dearth of foodstuffs for Jewish holidays, which was exemplified by this pathetic offering at my local Nugget market. It is true that when you don’t see yourself reflected in the culture of your surroundings, you do feel marginalized.
This year, however, I am in Los Angeles, and no one’s putting Baby in the corner in LA. My local Gelson’s, which is the equivalent of Nugget, published this as their weekly ad. This is a store who takes their Jews seriously.
Jane Gassner
