A Reflection By Rabbi Gersh Lazarow
Something shifted for me last Friday. Not dramatically, not loudly, just enough to unsettle the heart in a way that lingers. And even now, almost a week later, it has not let go. It began with a small, quiet moment outside Shtiebel, the kind of encounter you don’t expect and don’t fully understand until later. But it stayed with me that entire day, and it keeps returning to me still.
I had stepped outside for a moment when I met a woman I’d never seen before. Her name was Melissa. She isn’t part of our community and may not identify as Jewish at all, but she carried with her a story that landed heavily and tenderly at the same time. The night before, her daughter, who attends Glen Eira College next door to Shtiebel, had come home and mentioned that one of her classmates had stopped by our little food pantry. Things were tight at home, and they needed to make sure there would be something, anything, for dinner.
Melissa told me she heard this while her own family sat down to a warm, abundant meal. The contrast unsettled her. Not with guilt, but with clarity. So on Friday morning, after school drop-off, she drove straight to the supermarket. She filled a bag with staples, brought it to Shtiebel, placed the items on the pantry shelves, shared the story with me, and quietly went on her way. No need for attention. No announcement. Just a simple act of compassion in response to another family’s need.
These are the moments that remind me how much goodness exists in our neighbourhood, quiet, unassuming goodness that shows up without being asked. When we first created the pantry at Shtiebel in partnership with Mazon Australia, we hoped it would become a place where people felt safe giving and taking as they needed. We painted across the top of the pantry: Give what you can, take what you need. It was intended as an invitation. It has become a lifeline.
The truth is, there has not been a single day in three years when the pantry has stayed full. It is filled and emptied, filled and emptied again. People contribute in all sorts of ways. Dropping something in on the way to school. Adding a few items to the weekly shop. Giving financially so we can buy pasta, rice and long-life milk in bulk. Thanks to partners like Share the Dignity, we’re able to stock essential sanitary products, often the first things sacrificed when money runs short. And with the help of food recyclers and donors, the shelves rarely stay bare for long.
Our community garden, which began as a humble experiment, has become another beautiful part of the story. The herbs, greens and vegetables we’ve grown are now making their way into the hands and homes of those who need them most. Fresh produce given freely. Nourishment grown by many hands. Every time something is harvested and shared, it feels like a blessing made tangible.
I know there are cynics. There always are. People who say the need can’t possibly be so great, or who assume that someone is surely taking advantage. And yes, once in a while someone may take a little more than they need. But beside that handful stand hundreds, possibly thousands, who have relied on the pantry with dignity and gratitude. Parents packing lunchboxes. Pensioners stretching limited incomes. Teenagers caring for siblings. Women accessing sanitary products they would otherwise go without.
This is the reality in our own neighbourhood. Not somewhere far off. Here.
One of the simplest ways we can keep supporting this work is by making giving easier. Hanging just outside the door at Shtiebel you will now find reusable shopping bags. They are free for anyone to take. Grab one, use it when you shop, and if you can, drop it back with a few items for the pantry. It is a small token of appreciation, a way of paying generosity forward. And if you are in a position to help with larger donations, or to support the pantry more consistently, please reach out. We would love to partner with you in this sacred work.
And this Sunday, 23 November, we will be celebrating Mitzvah Day, an international day dedicated to rolling up our sleeves and doing good. At Shtiebel, our pantry will be at the centre of our efforts. We are inviting volunteers to bring donations, help sort and organise supplies, replenish the shelves, and work with us to expand our community garden. We are building more beds, planting more produce, and widening our capacity to grow fresh food to share. The garden has been so warmly received, and we want to multiply that impact.
Melissa’s story reminded me once again that small acts ripple far beyond their moment. A daughter’s story stirred a mother’s compassion. Her compassion helped a family eat. And that moment reminded me why this pantry exists at all.
May we continue giving what we can so that others may take what they need. May we notice the quiet moments that call us to action. And may we keep tending this garden of mitzvot, one seed, one shelf, one act of kindness at a time.