Restitution for Dead Goldfish: A Purim Story
Back in the days of snails, pails and puppy dog tails, I would anxiously await for Valley Beth Shalom’s Purim Carnival for the chance to win a bag of goldfish. Winning goldfish was no easy task—it usually required some heroic feat, like knocking down a pyramid of bottles with a mere two bean bags. I relished those glorious years when I persevered and brought home a ziplock with shining goldfish darting back and forth.
Invariably, the goldfish would die within the week despite my best intentions, but that only put a small damper on my joy. It was all for love of the chase rather than for any sort of deep seated interest in the goldfish themselves. I’m going to be honest: now that I am older and more empathetic for my aquatic compatriots, I feel guilty. I’ve left a lot of dead goldfish in my wake. One might argue that depth of empathy for goldfish is not something one would expect a child to have, but that wouldn’t do much to convince a goldfish that I should be let off the hook.
Thankfully, this year, I had a chance to show that I’m a changed man. I earnestly began the long overdue clearing of my besmirched conscience by participating in the tradition of Matanot L’Evyonim (gifts to the poor) this Purim. I knew I would have to do some serious gift giving if to propitiate the ghostly fish that haunt my Erev Purim dreams, so I put on my Fed Up With Hunger hat and got to work.
In conjunction with Shtibl Minyan, B’nai-David Judea, the Jewish Federation’s Young Leadership Division, Temple Israel of Hollywood and IKAR, I helped Fed Up With Hunger mount a Los Angeles wide Matanot L’Evyonim campaign for the city’s homeless. Between the lot of us, we made hundreds of bagged lunches and toiletry kits. Volunteers then fanned out across the Westside, Hollywood and Downtown to deliver the care packages directly to homeless people.
Hand delivering the meals was a very important part of our Matanot L’Evyonim project. The homeless are in need of more than good, healthful food- they also are all too often bereft of social companionship, living alone and ignored on busy streets. As we passed out the bags, we made sure to smile, say hello and make conversation. Even these little gestures, while perhaps inconsequential to most of us, are rare and precious gems for the homeless.
I personally went with IKAR to the Ocean Park Community Center, a homeless shelter and rehabilitation program in Santa Monica. It was a beautiful, crisp Sunday morning, it was Purim, and there I was, helping make the world a better place rather than contributing to the deaths of innocent goldfish. Here’s to you, my fishy friends!
We would like to make this Matanot L’Evyonim project an annual Purim event. If you or your congregation wants to join us next year, please e-mail me at ebraun@jewishla.org.
