She learned that art is a powerful way to unlock the memories of Alzheimer’s patients. Having trained in a program called “Artists for Alzheimer’s” in 2007; Ellen volunteered in an art program for memory care patients. There, she worked to allow their social, emotional, and creative sides to shine in a way that their cognitive side could not.

One afternoon, Ellen was working with a group of patients on a beach project. “There was one man who barely spoke at all, and he couldn’t remember anything. We were handling sand and shells, and all of a sudden, he started speaking. He told us of how when he was a little boy, his father passed away and his mother took them all to Miami beach. He talked and talked. No one could believe it.” Another man looked at the tiny, colorful seashells and recounted how they reminded him of the candy he used to enjoy as a child. One woman shared how the various colors made her feel.

Research shows that art and music are two ways to tap into certain recesses of the brain that we may be unable to reach. Ellen continues her reflections: Jewish life is replete with symbols. Think about Pesach and our mind jumps to matzah and silver goblets and all the physical objects we use over the Yom Tov. “All these things both revive memories and act to create new memories that we’ll draw upon in the future.”

Again and again, Ellen reexperienced her own memories as she put the book together. On the Pesach page, is a miniature matzah box. This made her think back to when she was a little girl in preschool in Great Neck, NY. “We took a trip to NYC to see a matzah factory and to watch a company bottling grape juice. I remember it so clearly. It’s amazing how many childhood memories you can access when you start thinking about it!”

All of which means that Chai Spy is much more than a fun read. Through the tiny items it features, it acts as a tool to draw out memories, building bridges between the generations. “They say that the strongest families are the ones who share their family stories,” Ellen reflects. “This book is an opportunity to point at an item and say, hey that reminds me of the time when…” Which brings us back to the name of the book. Chai Spy is named not just for the little charm Chai that’s hidden in each page. It hints at the vitality of Jewish life, through the year, and through the generations.

Shul Memories

“This is my favorite page!” Ellen says. “It’s interesting. If you sat five people down and gave them the topic and the miniatures, everyone would produce a completely different work of art.”

For Ellen, this page is special because as a child, going to shul was a central point of her life. “When I was still young enough that I could sit with my father, I’d sit beside him and hold onto a corner of his tallis. I still remember the texture between my fingers. He’d show me the place in the siddur and tell me, “It’s always better to read it in Hebrew. If you can’t, read it in English.

“My parents taught me early on that the synagogue is a holy place. In fact, I once read that sitting in shul is as if you are sitting in G-d’s living room, having a conversation with Him. That image stays with me whenever I think of “the synagogue.”

As a child, Ellen and her parents attended the shul where Rabbi Nachman Bulman was the rav — the stories from that time have been passed down, both humorous and touching. There was the time Rabbi Bulman came to visit the family at home. Ellen was around four at the time, but she remembers Rabbi Bulman looking down at her with a smile and saying, “This one is mine!”

Shuls have played such an important role in Ellen’s life that she and her husband decided to get married in Ellen’s childhood shul in Virginia — “I wanted to go back there and be in a place where my memories were.”

Every item on the page was found through a mixture of determination and creativity. The aron kodesh was originally a wardrobe from a doll’s house. The tiny light bulb — real — became the ner tamid. A piece of cheesecloth became a tallis. Ellen found a tiny black cowboy hat and took off the star, so it looks like a regular black hat. The yad and tzedakah box are charms. As many shuls keep prayers on track by announcing the page number, Ellen found a tiny music stand and used that as a lectern.

One of Ellen’s dreams is to travel and photograph old synagogues from days long past. “You can go anywhere in the world and pick up a siddur and everyone is speaking the same language.”

Coming Home

“There’s no place like home” is spelled out across the page, and that’s an accurate expression of Ellen’s longing for Eretz Yisrael, where Ayelet lived until recently. The Israel page is stuffed full of items that bring out different aspects of life in Israel.

It all starts with the tiny pair of ruby slippers — a whimsical reference to the Wizard of Oz and the ruby slippers that take you home — the place you always longed for. There’s a tiny cover of Life Magazine, emblazoned with the headline: Olympic Tragedy, a reference to the 1972 Munich massacre, wherein 11 Israeli athletes were murdered. The reference lends a gravitas to the kaleidoscope of images on the page, combining with models of farmers with their produce, and two little children next to a bucket and spade, near a sign for Eilat. There are postage stamps and a tiny passport, along with scrabble pieces spelling out “Milk and Honey.”

“The first time we visited was as newlyweds,” Ellen recounts. “My husband worked for an international corporation, and he was transferred to London three weeks after we got married. This was 31 years ago, and we wanted our first vacation to be spent in Israel. I didn’t go back until my daughter was in seminary, and my next trip was five years later, when our granddaughter was born. So I suppose that for me, Israel is also related to our circle of life.”

It’s also a place where Ellen has found long-lost family.

A few years ago, Ellen joined a genealogy website and began researching her family tree. She discovered that her ancestry overlapped with someone else’s entries. “I wanted to know who this woman was. I found her number — she lives in Kfar Saba — and we discovered that we’re distant cousins. Our family, originally from Latvia and Lithuania, was divided by who made it out on which ship. A set of twins made it to South Africa. My great-grandfather got to America. My newfound cousins’ ancestors got to Israel. We’ve been able to put the pieces together in a way that my grandmother would marvel at it.” Ellen is now putting together the information into an album, for her children. “We stand on the shoulders of all who come before us,” she says.

Time Has Wings

Look carefully at the Shabbos page and you might be observant enough to notice the miniature rubber chicken. For Ellen, the chicken is more than a hint at the traditional menu. When her children were young, the preschool Shabbos party was the highlight of their week. The director of the preschool had a huge rubber chicken that she would swing around the kids, while everyone sang: “Put the chicken in the pot/Stir it up, nice and hot/Getting ready for Shabbat/For Shabbat.” Ellen laughs. “So that’s what the chicken means to me — and the memory I share when I see it. Those precious days of preschool and Shabbos parties. Time has wings, as a dear friend says.”

Of course, a Shabbos page wouldn’t be complete without challah. For Ellen, this brings back memories of her beloved grandmother — together, they’d go to Brenner’s Bakery to buy challah. Ellen can still remember the heavenly smell — not to mention the taste of the challahs there! Challah is so important to Ellen that the art includes flour, eggs, and a baking tin — ready to be made into fragrant loaves.

With so many items to include, how does Ellen decide where to place each object? “I take a canvas, 8 by 10 inches, and then I set everything up on it. When I’ve arranged it so I’m satisfied, then I take a photograph. I clear the canvas, and then go back and glue the items in place. The hardest thing is to know where to stop. There’s a line between intriguing and fun, and cluttered and confusing. You want people to be able to look at it and draw inspiration.”

Hearts and Stars

Ellen points to the sun, moon, and stars which are a prominent feature of this beautiful collage. This page has an additional significance: It hints to Ellen and Ayelet’s deep bond as mother and daughter. “Ayelet was born in July and it was a beautiful, clear summer night sky. We named her Ayelet Mazel, to allude to the first ray of sunshine at dawn, and the stars.

“For Ayelet’s bas mitzvah, the family held a small celebration at a local planetarium. The planetarium backed up its footage to show the exact time and date on which she was born, so that we could see what the night sky looked like on that day.”

If this page is covertly dedicated to her daughter, Ayelet’s love for her mother is seen in every beautifully crafted poem. Ayelet has always loved writing. “In 11th grade, I was bored in Economics class and I took my notes in rhyme. I just enjoy putting words together. My mother’s art is expressed through her assemblages, choosing which miniature goes where. Words are the same thing for me — picking which ones to use so that I can get the rhyme I want and the meaning I’m trying to get across.”

As a teacher, Ayelet looked at her mother’s art with the appreciation of an educator. “I wanted to highlight specific pieces to teach particular ideas. I tried to put myself in the place of a mother reading the book to her child, and I wanted the themes of the Yamim Tovim to jump from the page, as well as being redolent with emunah and bitachon.

“The book was made to appeal to a wide audience, and I was aware that some of the children reading it may never have the opportunity to experience a Yom Tov the way we do. I wanted to instill some of the ideas that we try to teach our children about these special days. At the same time, I wanted it to have the ideas and concepts I’d want read to my own child.”

Ayelet looks forward to sharing the book with her own daughter when she’s bigger, continuing to pass on a love and joy for Yiddishkeit, from generation to generation.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 600)