As a maker of Jewish ritual objects, I am often moved by the stories behind them. My latest tzedakah box was commissioned by congregation Etz Chaim.
It was designed to be a kind of mini version of the Aron Kodesh (Torah ark) that I had crafted for them the previous year – sharing the same Tree of Life design and scale, while being much smaller. I was thinking about the tradition of tzedakah and my first real understanding of it, which takes me back to this moment:
Imagine this: a young boy, barely tall enough to see over the sea of legs, clutching his grandfather's hand for dear life. That was me, freshly arrived in the United States as a refugee, with my family, navigating the churning chaos of a crowd waiting to receive a blessing from the Lubavitcher Rebbe. The room was a dizzying swirl of black and navy suits, towering above me like an endless forest. I gripped my grandfather's hand tightly, trying to navigate the crowded space, feeling as if I could easily be swept away by the human tide. Then, it happened. A sudden, piercing shriek ripped through the air, silencing the murmuring crowd. In slow motion, it seemed, I saw my baby cousin, perched precariously on my uncle's shoulder, reach out with his chubby little hand. His tiny fingers, like mischievous little claws, snatched a sheitel (wig) right off a poor woman's head! Panic flashed across my uncle’s face, a look that mirrored my own wide-eyed horror.
A wave of embarrassment washed over us. We stammered apologies in broken English, a jumble of unfamiliar words that seemed to hang awkwardly in the air. The moment felt both chaotic and strangely surreal, a scene playing out in slow motion. The rest is a blur, but I remember that we received the dollar, and a blessing.
At the time, my family saw that dollar as something to be cherished, a physical memento imbued with the Rabbe’s blessing. But as I grew older and my understanding of Judaism deepened, I learned about the mitzvah of shaliach – the idea of an agent or representative. And then, it all clicked. The Rebbe wasn't just handing out a dollar; he was offering us all a chance to participate in the mitzvah of giving, regardless of our means. We had come to America with next to nothing. Charity? That was something we needed, not something we were in a position to give. Yet, in that moment, the Rebbe extended the opportunity for even those who could not give, to be able to participate in the mitzvah of tzedaka. He shared the mitzvah with everyone, that was the true blessing.
This powerful experience taught me that the act of giving is a privilege. It's why I am so passionate about creating beautiful, meaningful objects that help encourage the tradition of tzedakah. A few years ago, I designed a tzedakah box for a local Judaica store, Judaica of Greatneck, that embodied this idea of shaliach.
They wanted a small compartment created specifically for coins. The idea was that if someone wanted to participate in the mitzvah but didn't have cash on hand, they could easily access a coin from the compartment. It was a small design element with a big intention: to make the mitzvah of giving more accessible to everyone.
When I designed my latest tzedakah box for the synagogue, this concept was still very much on my mind. It was designed to be a kind of mini version of the Aron Kodesh (Torah ark) that I had crafted for them the previous year.
Both the Aron Kodesh and the tzedakah box feature a deeply meaningful Tree of Life design, the tzedakah box with the word 'tzedakah' carved into the bottom, representing the foundation from which the tree of life grows. As it states in Pirkei Avot 1:2: “The world stands on Torah, service to G-d, and acts of kindness.” Just as tzedakah is the foundation upon which a just and compassionate society is built, it also nourishes the spiritual growth of the individual and the community, much like the roots of a tree. This resonates with my own experience with the Rebbe, where I learned that even the smallest act of sharing can have a profound impact. By extending the opportunity to participate in tzedakah to everyone, regardless of their means, we cultivate a community that thrives on compassion and mutual support, mirroring the interconnectedness symbolized by the Tree of Life.
I chose to use bubinga, curly maple, and cherry wood for both of the tzedakah boxes, creating a beautiful sense of continuity between the two pieces. These woods not only added beauty but also symbolize strength, growth, and the warmth of family. The rich hues of bubinga, the striking patterns of curly maple, and the classic warmth of cherry woods make each tzedakah box truly special. The woods themselves hold stories, and the way they reflect light and catch the eye creates a feeling of respect and reverence, helping to elevate the acts that the box will witness.
These elements aim to elevate the act of giving and inspire a deeper appreciation for the beauty and importance of tzedakah in Jewish tradition. May this tzedakah box serve as a constant reminder of the power of giving and the profound impact it has on individuals and the world around us.
I would love for you to explore the beauty and meaning of tzedakah by viewing my latest creations. What are your favorite traditions around tzedakah? Share your thoughts in the comments below! And If you are in need of something unique, please reach out. Contact me
My passion for crafting objects of Jewish tradition is deeply intertwined with the values they represent. That's why I wanted to share a deeper dive into the mitzvah of tzedakah, some lesser known details and my personal recommendations.
Feel free to read my post on tzedakah from my new blog Jewish insight and learning. Beyond the Tzedakah Box: Guidance from the Past for Giving in the Present
