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Complaints Welcome

Malky Hollander

I gripped the phone in my hands, my knuckles turning white from the effort of restraining my temper. The angry tirade came hissing down the wires: “It’s just not right! It’s not right that I have to wait half an hour till the next girl comes. What are they, presidents of United States? What are they so busy with that they can’t stay with me another half hour until the next visitor?! Excuses, excuses! That’s all I hear!”

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Miss Ida Green, aged sixty, lived in a Bnei Brak old-age home; she seemed to have nothing going for her. Having been severely hurt in a tragic car accident at the age of fifty, the poor woman had lost most of her physical capabilities. Not only was she wheelchair-bound, but her hands shook incessantly, rendering them almost useless. She couldn’t even read a book in peace; her trembling fingers failed to catch a grip on the page she wanted to turn. Having only two elderly sisters who lived in different cities, she was alone in the truest sense of the word.

Visiting Bnei Brak one day, I passed the old-age home. The sight of her graying, shaking figure all alone on the patio aroused such strong pity in me that I just couldn’t walk on. Taking a seat near Ida, I was unprepared for the tales of woes that were unleashed on me.

Her problems were ones I couldn’t solve, except for one. She was lonely. I had to do something.


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