Anna
It is a busy Tuesday afternoon at Jewish Inertia magazine. The phone rings and I hurriedly answer,

"Jewish Inertia magazine" I answer in a clipped professional tone.

"Hello, a voice soft voice answers, this is Shifra and I am looking for summer 2010 of Jewish Inertia magazine. My father is in one of the photos with Dr. Bernard Lander. I let someone borrow the magazine and now I don't have it. The picture really means a lot to me. Can you please send me another copy?"

Back issues cost 6.50 and them takes tracking it down in various Anonymous Jewish Organization storage closets. We were approaching deadline, and time was tight. The hope in Shifra's voice made me stop and answer kindly.

"I will do my best, but it will cost you. Can I please call you back this afternoon?"

"Yes, please do," Shifra answered.

I sighed and started to rifle through some stuff on my desk. As I was sorting through various shreds of paper I came across Jewish Inertia magazine summer 2010. Not only one but two copies. I called Shifra back right away.

"Hello may I please speak to Shifra?"

"Speaking"

"Hi, Anna here from Jewish Inertia. I can send you a copy of the magazine."
In a split second decision I said, "it will be 5.00 even."

"Thank you so much!" Shifra said the thanks and excitement was palpable in her voice.

"Your welcome, shana tova u'metukah," I said.

As I was packaging the magazine I decided to send her both copies I had found. I then took a sticky and wrote a note "I know I told you I would send you one magazine but this seemed so important to you that I decided to send you two. Shana tova umetukah~Anna"

A few days later I got to work and immediately started to listen to my messages. Pen poised ready to take down complaints about missed issues or never recorded address changes. Instead there was a teary message waiting for me.

"Hello this is Shifra. I want to let you know how much receiving the magazines with the note on them meant to me. It really made me stop and think about the little favors we could do for people on an every day baises that we tend to pass up. Shana tova"

I spent the morning smiling. Then it was 4PM and I was rushing to finish things off for the day. I got another phone call. Sighing, I picked up.

"Hi this is Shifra again, I wanted to speak to you in person. You must be an out-of-towner, your note was so nice."

Taken aback by the sentiment I managed to answer "yes I'm from Cleveland."

"Thank you again. Your note will be saved the photos passed onto my grandchildren. You don't even know how much happiness this has bought to me. May all your prayers be answered."

I went into Rosh Hashanah awed by Shifra's thoughtful and exuberant thanks.
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Birthright, NYU & Conversions
Chana
Taglit Birthright Israel is a bit like your crotchety old uncle. He has a certain way he wants his coffee made (lots of milk and sugar), his pajama pants folded (with the seam turned inward) and his paper delivered (on the porch, not on the lawn). Well, so does the Birthright system.

At first it sounds pretty simple. Assuming you're eligible (that is, you haven't lived in Israel when you were twelve years or older, you haven't spent a year there, haven't served in the army and didn't travel there on an organized program) you are offered the opportunity of a lifetime. You get a free ten-day trip to the Holy Land!

But that's before they mention the providers.

Who, you ask, are the holy and sanctified providers?

Why, they're all the different people who run the trips. There's not just one Birthright program, oh no. There's Hibba, Maayanot (Chabad), Israel Outdoors, Sachlav and all sorts of other fun program-runners. Then there's the Anonymous Jewish Organization's program, which is entitled 'Israel Free Spirit.'

What makes the Anonymous Jewish Organization's program unique and different from any other program? For that, you'd have to check out their nifty Facebook page which uses alliteration and acrostics to illustrate the awesome that is our program.

Anyway, we obviously want to make people aware of our program and the benefits that it has. So I volunteered to hand out flyers at NYU to prospective participants. Urban campus, fun people and diversity? I'm so there.

So I carefully dressed myself as a student (white Hollister sweatshirt, casual grey skirt and sneakers), threw on a backpack and took the train down there. Started out at the Bronfman Center, where I met all the folks leaving after Shachris, including quite a few people whom I knew. They recommended hanging out outside the library (it's called Bobst, which made me smile a lot) and going to Weinstein, which houses the kosher cafeteria. So that's exactly what I did.

Things you discover when you stand for five hours handing out flyers:

-Many more non-Jews than Jews find the idea of a trip to Israel to be fascinating
-There are nice people (petite, with spiked black hair, wearing an apron and black jeans) who offer you free haircuts when you offer them free trips to Israel
-There are people who respond to your question, "Want to go to Israel?" with "I wanna go to class" and just make you laugh
-Just outside Bobst is the official smoking area so I was scented with the wonderful aroma of cigarettes for the rest of the day
-Friendly people tell you they've already been to Israel and they wish they were eligible to go again
-One person gritted his teeth and glared at me and spat out "Palestine" when I asked him if he wanted to go on a free trip to Israel

And then for the conversation that takes the cake.

Me: Do you want to go to Israel?
He: Can you still go if you convert?
Me: (starts laughing)
He: No, I'm totally serious. I really love Judaism and want to convert.
Me: Then yeah, I think you can go if you convert. But you shouldn't convert just to get a free trip.
He: Where do I go?
Me: For what?
He: To convert.
Me: Um...well...have you heard of the Bronfman Center?
He: No.
Me: Well, why not start by going to 7 East 10th Street and meeting with Rabbi Sarna? You can see how things go from there.
He: Great, thanks!

All in a day's work.
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How I Got My Job
Chana
My name is Olivia. It's also Chana, which is why posts to this blog from me will be signed as 'Chana.' I like to read, write, sing, dance and daydream. I'm engaged to be married to a Hasid. In the course of the past three months, I've attended Leadership Boot Camp at Camp Dora Golding, been hosted at the Stamford Hilton, visited Rutgers and handed out flyers at NYU through the Orthodox Union. At the moment, however, I'd like to tell you how I got my job.

It was a beautiful day in Upstate New York. Current Regional Director of Har Sinai (as Dr. Luchins bids me call it) Marc Fein and I were driving back from a Shabbaton. Marc was asking me to dream big. If I could do absolutely anything in the world, anything at all in order to help with projects, ideas or growth of our NCSY region, what would I do? What suggestions would I make?

"Take them all to Israel," I replied promptly.

"Good!" Marc said approvingly. "What else?"

I thought for a moment. I had had somewhat of an unconventional education, seeing as the last two years of my high school career took place at North Shore Country Day School. (You see, I had begun high school at a Bais Yaakov. Uniforms, single-sex girls school, absolutely no attendance at anything coed, including NCSY, the whole shebang. It didn't work out so well.)

"Well," I said, "I think that NCSY should be more like my high school."

"What do you mean?" inquired Marc.

"My high school's pretty smart. They decide to stay in touch with me by sending me candy. Every Halloween and Valentine's Day I get chocolate in the mail alongside an annual giving form. Now, since I'm 21 years old and barely paying my rent, it's not like I can really afford to give them any money. But I remember the chocolate, so that if I were ever to come into some money, they'd be the first on my list. It's like the Hare Krishna technique."

Marc looked puzzled. I decided to elaborate.

"See, Hare Krishnites used to hang out at airports with flowers. They would give flowers to people. After you accept the flower, the person asks you if they could have a moment of your time. Since you already took the flower, you're more inclined to say yes. It's the same concept. My high school sends me chocolate every single year. When they ask me to consider contributing to them, I think, you know what? Why not? They gave me candy."

"So you're saying NCSY should send candy to people."

"Precisely. We should follow up with our alumni when they are in college and send them candy, maybe on Chanukah and Purim. Firstly, because they are our alumni and we care about them and it's nice to get candy. And secondly, because it can't hurt if they decide this was nice of us and give us more money to plug into more programming for our kids."

Marc requested that I write all this up in an email. I did so. A couple of months went by. Then Marc called me up one day.

"Are you still looking for a job?" he asked.

"Yeah," I answered.

"I think you may have one," he said mysteriously. A couple minutes later, Scott Shulman, head of our Birthright Israel trip at the Orthodox Union called me up and asked me to come in for an interview.

Unbeknownst to me, Marc had forwarded my email to Rabbi Dave, the head of Alumni Connections, alongside my resume. They liked my ideas and as it happened, they were hiring. So they called me up, I came flying down on the subway (the A to the 4 or the 5 and then get out at Bowling Green) and voila! A couple of interviews later, and I was hired.

This all goes to show that one never knows what can come of casual conversations during car rides. And that Marc is awesome.
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