“What Legacy Means to Me”

Becoming philanthropic was a process for me throughout my life. In the earliest of days, my Russian grandmother, who I adored, would welcome me to her apartment across the street with a cookie and a penny. She lifted me up to a blue box inside the pantry where she had me drop it into the slot, gave me a kiss and a cookie. In Yiddish she would praise me for helping Israel. I had no idea what I was supporting, but a smile and a cookie were proof enough to keep doing it.

Being raised in Baltimore, many of my friends’ families practiced their religion and affiliation by belonging to a temple for B’nai Mitzvah and then resigning as did my parents. It seemed normal. In Washington, DC, my family joined a very large Reform congregation over 100 years old. I was lucky enough to be mentored by some wonderful older members and became a Board member despite the size of my donation. That is where I first heard of the endowment funded by the founding members and their descendants. It sustained the temple for many years and as I became able to give more, it was never “on my plate” and remained a concept.