“We could feel her joy, her sense of privilege.” Mrs. Devorah Steinberg ignited two generations of British girls

Mrs. Shari Dahan, pupil

I was in one of the early classes in our school, the pioneering Beth Jacob school of North West London. My memories are rich. We once hid from a senior teacher instead of going to her class. Mrs. Steinberg was evidently upset at our lack of derech eretz, but she did not say a word to us for 24 hours, and only then admonished us, with great calm. She served as a living example of what she taught us, how to be “maavir al middosav.”

The school was small and we felt so much love and care. I remember Mrs. Steinberg driving me home when I had a fever.

When I was in ninth grade, I lost my bubbe. Mrs. Steinberg called me in to say that she had known my grandmother and I could speak to her whenever I wanted. At 14, I felt awkward, but when I came home from seminary, I began to consult this wise woman. She was my guide through shidduchim, and when I met the right one, I brought him round to see her. Her table was piled with seforim; she was preparing for Friday’s assembly.

I called Mrs. Steinberg whenever I needed guidance. The right pasuk and soothing words rolled off her tongue. I was astounded at her depth of compassion and wisdom. When my father was sick and then niftar, she shared with me how she’d coped with losing her husband.

Mrs. Steinberg was a rock when one of my twins suffered health challenges and she accompanied us along his journey, constantly davening. When we celebrated their double bar mitzvah, she traveled to Manchester (four hours each way) to be with us.

When Mrs. Steinberg visited Manchester, she gave a shiur for alumni. I thought how incredible it was that we had been taught on this high standard in school. I realized that although we may not have listened well at the time, she’d sown seeds of emunah and bitachon, creating reserves for us to draw on later.

Mrs. Steinberg was a modern-day Sarah Schenirer. When I got married, her father created a lovely gematria for our names — a proficiency Mrs. Steinberg inherited. I called her before every Rosh Hashanah to hear her gematria for that year. This year, (5)780, she told me, has the same gematria as “Rachum V’chanun Atah” [You are merciful and gracious].

There can’t be many principals who take care of you from when you’re 11 until they leave This World, but that was what Mrs. Steinberg did for me.

Sue Lachman, teacher

When I went for my interview as a sports teacher, Mrs. Steinberg told me that she would prefer to employ me rather than a non-Jew but I must cover my hair while at school, as did all Jewish staff at Beth Jacob. I thought that was easy, but I had no idea that I couldn’t wear my track suit, or that my arms needed to be covered.

During those first weeks, in a kind, gentle way, Mrs. Steinberg told me about not wearing pants and covering my elbows. She’d never say anything in front of other people, and she didn’t blame me for not knowing.

It was her nonjudgmental attitude that helped nudge me and my family to become baalei teshuvah. I’ll never forget her beaming face and the whole school standing up for me when I came into assembly with a sheitel on.

I remember preparing for our first proper Pesach, with all the cleaning it entailed. Mrs. Steinberg was wonderful. She took me aside and said, “You know, no one is going to eat in the airing cupboard.” That helped me stay grounded and understand what I really needed to focus on.

I owe Mrs. Steinberg too much to express in such a short note. I am eternally indebted to her and love her dearly.

Mrs. Mashi Tescher, pupil

I was in London Seminary almost 40 years ago, when Beth Jacob had just been founded. Although it was a fledgling school, Mrs. Steinberg’s leadership gave it special status. We all wanted to do our Teachers’ Training in BJ under Mrs. Steinberg.

I’ve since gone on to become a mother and a teacher in several schools and seminaries in Stamford Hill. About eight years ago, when I was teaching at Satmar Girls School, Mrs. Steinberg spoke at a Teachers’ Training day.

I cannot forget how passionately she implored the teachers to understand that “a mechaneches is not just a teacher; she’s an example and a role model. She’s someone whom students have to aspire to imitate.”

She told us that she tells her students to “take her with them” when they go shopping. “When you try on a new garment in the store, ask yourself, ‘What would Mrs. Steinberg say?’ Then she told us about a woman who told her that she was in a department store changing room and she overheard two schoolgirls in the next cubicle saying, ‘Are you sure this is okay? What would Mrs. Steinberg say?’ ”