In Chișinău, Celebrating the Sweetness of Life This Rosh Hashanah

Sweetness comes in many forms — for Raisa Moghilner, it's the strength she finds in JDC.

By Raisa Moghilner - JDC Client; Chișinău, Moldova | September 16, 2024

Raisa Moghilner (left) spends time with her homeware worker — a source of care and support she's discovered through the JDC-supported Hesed Yehuda social welfare center.

Growing up in the Soviet Union, Raisa Moghilner sought out knowledge about her Jewish heritage and traditions. And when the Soviet Union collapsed, her parents got sick, and she lost her savings overnight, Raisa found one place she could turn for help — the JDC-supported Hesed Yehuda social welfare center in the Moldovan capital, Chișinău. There, she discovered not only life-saving support, but the Jewish life and traditions she’d been seeking since childhood. This Rosh Hashanah, Raisa reflects on the journey that brought her to Hesed Yehuda and the sweetness JDC brings to her life today. 

Apples and honey — a traditional Rosh Hashanah treat — are just one way JDC adds sweetness to Raisa’s life.

For me, autumn is the best time of the year. I love its colors — the beautiful, rusty red leaves. Autumn also brings RoshHashanah, a moment when we are called to reflect on the past and turn toward the future. 

As I reflect on my own past, I can identify a single thread connecting all the chapters of my life — from childhood to adulthood to the person I am today: my desire to learn about and participate in Jewish life and traditions.   

My earliest Jewish memories took place in a small alley — our synagogue was located there. Together, my parents and I would go to hear the shofar. There was barely any room to stand. 

We lived in a Jewish neighborhood. During Yom Kippur, we saw an extraordinary sight — a crowd appeared … a huge, dense mass of people leaving the synagogue. It was a sign we could eat again; once the crowd passed, we knew the service had ended. 

Throughout my schooling, I searched and searched for books on Judaism. I could find books on any given topic — but I could never find anything about my own heritage. It was so strange to me that I could be surrounded by other Jews but never see myself reflected in the broader culture.

Then there was a profound change.   

Perestroika — the period of reforms in the Soviet Union during the 1980s — meant that various restrictions were lifted, and I was more readily exposed to the world outside the USSR. The very first thing I did was subscribe to Jewish newspapers from Moscow and the Baltics. I wanted all of the Jewish magazines and newspapers I could get my hands on, and I couldn’t get enough.

This was the knowledge I’d been craving for so long, and through these materials, I was exposed to a Jewish world that I could only have dreamed of. This was only just the beginning of my journey, but it wouldn’t always be an easy or joyful ride. 

Soon, all of us would have to endure the 1990s — a financially excruciating time. 

For years, I had worked as a computer programmer at a research institute — but when the Soviet Union collapsed, so did the institute. Everyone was let go, and I lost my livelihood. 

My parents arguably had it worse. They had worked all their lives, saved, and earned pensions in Soviet rubles. Overnight, these pensions — and everything they’d spent decades working for —  turned into nothing. (To put this into perspective, when I retired, I received about $2.50 a day — not that my meager fixed income seems so livable either.) 

Meanwhile, both my parents were ill. I spent every waking minute caring for them, and I often wonder whether the stress of that time — waiting for the ambulance, worrying about their health — is what made me ill today. I felt helpless. I saw that my mom didn’t feel well, but I could do nothing to help her. There were no pills to be found in the 1990s. It broke my heart that I couldn’t even buy medicine for her.

What happened next was a complete accident. We had been living hand to mouth when I suddenly got a call from an old acquaintance. She casually told me about a place where you could find medicine and other help. It was called Hesed. That’s when everything changed — the moment I discovered the JDC-supported Hesed Yehuda social welfare center. 

I first stepped through their doors in 1998 — and more than 25 years later, I haven’t really left. You could say I’ve grown with Hesed Yehuda these last three decades and, with their help, immersed myself in the Jewish life and traditions I’d been seeking since I was a young girl.  

Today, as we approach Rosh Hashanah, I’m thinking of the sweetness Hesed Yehuda and JDC has brought, and continue to bring, to my life. They do this in so many different ways— sometimes quite literally, with a jar of honey each High Holidays. 

Other times, this sweetness is something deeper, more substantial, and longer-lasting. Several years ago, my apartment badly needed repairs, and Hesed helped me renovate the hallway, bathroom, and kitchen. My parents were very ill then, and I could never have afforded to do it myself. 

Sometimes, this sweetness is the physical comfort Hesed Yehuda brings. My apartment is often cold, and heating is expensive, especially during the winter months. Now, thanks to Hesed paying for both my heating and electricity, life is much easier. 

There’s also the sweetness of my homecare worker. I wouldn’t survive without her because I can’t do anything for myself anymore — I have mobility issues and it’s difficult to move. I’ve learned that you can have money and everything else, but you can still die of hunger if you can’t go shopping and purchase food. I can’t carry anything at all. I fall, and I’m afraid to go out.

I’m never afraid with my homecare worker — and I’m certainly never hungry. We often cook together because I enjoy it, though it’s hard for me to cut vegetables. But more than cooking, cleaning, or hanging my laundry, the sweetness she brings is her company. 

Sweetness also looks like the smartphone JDC gave me. Through JDC’s JOINTECH initiative — a program that distributes specially-designed smartphones so that seniors like me can join vibrant Jewish life — I can participate in the Jewish traditions and celebrations I so deeply cherish. And I don’t even have to leave my apartment!     

My JDC smartphone serves two primary functions. Firstly, it gives me a way to communicate with my friends and community. Secondly, I get to listen in on lectures from a rich array of speakers — scholars, journalists, and experts in a range of fields. These lectures and seminars make my brain work, which is very important at my age. It’s a kind of sweetness, too. 

Through the smartphone, I also get to meet with a psychologist. During these sessions, I get to ask her questions and discuss any issues I might be having. Though I am getting older and cannot leave my home, she always speaks to me as if I were her equal — here, the sweetness of being treated with dignity.   

Because I used to be a programmer, learning how to use the smartphone was relatively easy.  However, the computers I worked with were completely different. This was back in the 1980s and 1990s, when all I had was a box with a screen that emitted strong radiation. The pixels were so large that you could see each one. It was harmful to the user’s eyes. 

I have none of these problems with my smartphone, and JDC even provided me with a personal computer and a tablet. It’s wonderful! My back and neck hurt so much that I can no longer hold a book. I was deprived of reading until I got a tablet — now I can read whatever I like! 

That’s sweetness, too. 

One year, JDC gave me a calendar for Rosh Hashanah. It was created in the form of a small book, and each day contained a famous Jewish saying. It wasn’t just a calendar, but a whole literary work. I reread it long after that year had finished. 

Thinking more about it, that book represents what JDC and Hesed have done for me — they have enriched each and every day of my life, from one year to the next, and brought me the Jewish traditions and knowledge I had sought for so long. 

Raisa Moghilner, 76, is a JDC client in Chișinău, Moldova.

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