When Memory Becomes Action

I had been recording it since she passed away in 2016. “For what?”, I would sometimes ask myself? It was on a google doc, unedited, sloppy, with random facts and memories occasionally thrown in when a strong memory popped into my head. But will anything ever become of what seemed to be an endless document? My grandparents’ stories of survival could never be left to fade. I needed to take action- more than writing a book. I just didn’t know how.

A friend told me about the Holocaust Museum LA’s DOR Program, where descendants of survivors are trained to retell their family stories just as they once heard them. I wasn’t sure what would actually come of it, but I decided to join. Even with my limited free time my husband strongly encouraged me to join the program.

Our group consisted of second, third, and fourth generation survivors, all united by the same purpose: to transmit the stories of our families forward and keep them alive. Like me, many had unedited versions of their parents and grandparents stories- all stored in their head or scribbled down somewhere at some point in time. The first step was to turn those stories into a coherent presentation. After presenting them for one another, we would then share them with school groups visiting the museum. This process pushed me to organize years of collected memories into something clear, structured, and ready to pass on.

A week before my presentation at the museum, my cousin and dear friend, Liz Goldhirsch Yellin was honored at the Magen Dovid Adom event. In her honor, the program highlighted the many organizations, Chesed projects, and quiet acts of kindness that Liz involves herself in and even all that couldn’t fully capture who she is. Liz is a true beacon of light for the Jewish People. She is one of those rare people who is always in motion, always taking care of something important, always doing. She will come by for a quick Shabbat or Yom Tov dinner, but then is off to go be of help to those in need or support an important cause. 

What many in the audience didn’t know was that one of the reasons Liz was recognized that evening was for recently donating an ambulance in Israel in memory of Sarah Milgrim and Yaron Lischinsky. Sarah and Yaron were killed in an antisemitic attack last May outside the Israeli embassy in Washington, after attending an AJC event. As Liz was honored, the Milgrims and Lischinskys were invited to join her on stage. It was an emotional moment. Everyone felt the heartbreak for what these parents have endured. At the same time, this despairing feeling was paired with a strong mission of remembrance and the determination to protect Jewish lives through this new ambulance. This contribution was a true expression of who Liz is- someone who uses her big heart to invest in a thriving future for the Jewish People. 

In Sefer Shemot, when the Jewish people are suffering under Egyptian slavery, the Torah tells us that “Vayar b’sevlotam”- Moshe saw their pain. Chazal note that many people may see suffering, but Moshe didn’t stop at noticing. He took action. He stepped in to defend the oppressed, he supported those who were struggling, and he ultimately answered Hashem’s call to lead Am Yisrael out of Mitzrayim.

Moshe teaches us that greatness doesn’t come from good intentions alone- it comes from turning compassion into concrete action. A true leader, and a true member of Klal Yisrael, is someone who shows up, who takes responsibility and asks: “What can I do to help?” Every one of us has daily opportunities to be a “do-er”- to step in, support others, and make a difference. Even small actions, when done with sincerity and courage, can have an everlasting effect.

As the crowd erupted in song at the end of the evening, I found myself wondering: “What are each of us doing to make our own impact on the Jewish People?”  Yes, a tremendous amount of money was raised for such a vital and worthy cause, but our personal contributions matter just as deeply.

And then it all came together.

As the evening wrapped up, Liz turned to me and other relatives I was with and asked us to do one simple thing: to send her our grandparents recorded Holocaust testimonies, so she can have them digitized properly using current technology. Even in a moment of celebration, preserving these stories of survival for future generations was at the forefront of her mind. 

At family gatherings and Shabbat meals, I’m always drawn to the stories told about relatives who can no longer speak for themselves. I realize how these small recollections, even just a simple memory or small detail are what keep our loved ones alive within us. Each story feels like a gift handed from one generation to the next and I’m grateful for the family members who can recall those moments with such clarity and equally grateful for the family members who have pushed their loved ones to have their stories recorded, as painful as it may have been to revisit the past. 

Yes, the memories have been recorded, but how will they really stay alive once they’re gone? Will their stories still be spoken about casually at the Shabbos table, even within their own family?

We all have a story to tell- whether it’s a Holocaust account from a grandparent, a tale of fleeing Iran, or even a small moment of making someone feel seen. Preserving our family’s history is our responsibility. Keeping these stories locked in our minds does a disservice to the generations that follow.

So ask yourself: How are you passing these stories down? How are you ensuring they’re not forgotten and that our own family members know them?

 You don’t need the perfect draft. Everyone has a few spare minutes and access to a blank google doc, a notebook and pen. Don’t write it for yourself- write it for your children, their children, and the generations to come. What excuse will we have when our grandchildren ask why their family’s story was never recorded?

Don’t wait for the story to be polished. It may never be. But you have to start somewhere. I began after my Bubbie and Zaidie passed away. Yes, it felt late, but I began. And now that document has grown past eighty pages. (And I can proudly now add the formal presentation to this list.)

The point is not when or how you start- it’s that you do. Doing is everything.