Reflections on the passing of Elisabeth Stern

This past Saturday evening Elisabeth (Miriam Golda) Stern of Sudbury / Framingham passed away.  Below are a few reflections that I would like to share in her memory.

Over the last four years, during the course of my visits to the Wingate nursing home, I have become close to multiple residents and their families. One such individual was Elisabeth Stern, who passed away this past Saturday evening at the age of 92 while surrounded by her loving family.

Though I had spent several hours with her and her family in the last days of her life, when I heard the news of her passing, I was overcome with sadness at the passing of this very special lady. The words I share below are some of my thoughts and memories which I hope will give a small glimpse into her life and serve as an inspiration to all of us to learn from her and the way she lived her life.

When I think of Elisabeth, I think of “Yiddishkiet” - Judaism. The Elisabeth that I knew for the last four years was someone whose life, conversations, passions and songs were all a reflection of her deep love for Yiddishkiet, a deep love and appreciation for G-d, and a deep love for Torah and Mitzvos.

Any conversation with Elisabeth was always peppered with Yiddishkiet, amazing stories of her past that included growing up in pre-war Hungary and going through the Holocaust, and a never ending desire to experience and celebrate Yiddishkiet. I truly consider myself lucky to have known Elisabeth for the last few years and I have learned and been inspired tremendously by her and her life.

Elisabeth was the youngest of five siblings. Her two older brothers passed away as a result of the First World War. In addition in World War Two, Elisabeth lost her sister and and other family members to the Nazis in a brutal and painful manner. Yet despite the losses and terrible evil which she had experienced and been witness to and despite being so deeply impacted and living with the pain for the rest of her life, Elisabeth was determined to begin life again in a new land and raise a family of her own, so that she too could continue the Yiddishkiet that she cherished so much.

Elisabeth was taken in as a refugee by Canada and to that end she was eternally grateful to Canada. In fact she kept a picture of the boat that brought her over to Canada and a Canadian Flag as permanent fixtures in her home and later in her room at the nursing home.

Elisabeth shared many painful memories of what she suffered personally or witnessed in the Holocaust. However there is one particular story that stands out in my mind, which not only is extremely powerful, but in a sense, it also conveys the life and spirit that Elisabeth herself lived. When Elisabeth told me this story, her eyes were flowing with tears and emotion and she cried bitter sobs as she recounted the details of the story and almost seemed to relive the moment in time when it occurred.

Elisabeth told me a story about her brother who after being in Auschwitz and losing much of his family, including some of his children, ended up being sent to a Concentration Camp that included forced labor in a nearby area. The workers in this camp were broken in body and spirit, lost and cut off from the world, not knowing who they had left in the world, and not knowing when the hell they were in would end.  Each day was more miserable and painful than the day before, and they felt alone, abandoned, and decimated as they were trapped in the evil clutches of the Nazis.

Then Elisabeth said, as the pitch of her voice became higher and the tears began to flow even more, it was almost Rosh Hashanah, and the people wanted to find a moment to pray to G-d and ask G-d for life and for hope. So her brother with several others burrowed a hidden hole in the ground in the area where they were doing the forced labor, so that somehow they would be able to take a few moments and pray on Rosh Hashanah and connect with G-d. The people knew that if they were caught they would be killed on the spot. Yet despite that and despite all their suffering and the absolute hopelessness of their situation, all they wanted to do was to get together and pray to G-d on Rosh Hashanah even for a few short minutes. They wanted to say thank you to G-d for keeping them alive, thank you for giving them the ability to live as Jews, and at the same time to pray for an end to the hell they were experiencing.

Elisabeth cried the whole way through the story especially as she explained the paradox of their praying to G-d despite the absolute evil they were experiencing.

When I think of this story, I feel like this story speaks of Elisabeth’s own life and the spirit that she lived by. Elisabeth carried a lot of pain from her experiences in prewar Europe and from the terrible experiences and losses that she witnessed. Yet together with the intensity of the pain that she bore, she carried on even stronger passion of faith and love for G-d and Judaism.  

Elisabeth lived with the pain of the holocaust embedded in her life and imprinted on her soul, but this was coupled with an even stronger part of her personality, her strong desire and love for Yiddishkiet. In addition to her family who she loved dearly, her biggest pleasures, were being able to say a short prayer or do an extra Mitzvah, and most importantly to see her family members continue the traditions that she lived and loved.

I remember the time, when I went to lead a Chanukah Celebration in the Wingate and I lit a 99 Cent Tin Menorah, and Elisabeth, told me off with a smile, and said that is not the way you do a Mitzvah. I also remember the time when Elisabeth bought me a beautiful velvet box for the Etrog that we use on Sukkot, and then her daughter told me that Elisabeth had seen the cardboard box that my Etrog was in and felt bad and wanted the Etrog to be in a beautiful case. In a sense, Elizabeth’s motto was, Yiddishkiet with Joy, and if you are doing a Mitzvah, do it right!

Of course one of the most beautiful moments that Elisabeth shared with myself and with the community of the Chabad Center of Sudbury, was when she donated a brand new Torah Scroll in memory of her grandparents. Elisabeth continued to remember and enjoy the day of the celebration for the rest of her life, and in fact on the very last day that she was awake, Elisabeth saw the Torah, and listened as we sat around her and sang the Jewish melodies of joy and hope that she loved best.

I will always remember her smiles on that last day and the joy that she had as she saw her Torah, heard the Shema, sang Eliyahu Hanavi, and watched her family continue to be part of the life that she almost lost but fought for and ultimately succeeded.

Yehi Zichroh Baruch. May her memory be a blessing and may she be a source of inspiration to her daughter and her husband Ann & Herb, to her granddaughter Amy, to her grandson Sam & his wife Yehudit and to her new great granddaughter Rachel Chaya who was born just 6 weeks ago.

Tehei Nishnosah Tzerurah Bitzror Hachayim