I grew up understanding that Jewish life is something you show up for. It is not passive; it is lived, practiced, and sustained through presence. My parents modelled that truth early on. My mother, especially, showed me what resilience looks like in action. After her parents were tragically killed, she raised three children on her own, navigating life as a single woman in the 1970s with determination and grace. She found meaning and strength through community. Her Jewish life began in synagogue, but it never ended there. She volunteered, served on boards, created opportunities for other women to learn and lead, and never stepped away from giving back. Her example shaped not only how I live as a Jew, but how I move through the world.  

Another profound influence in my life was my father-in-law. His leadership, vision, and generosity helped strengthen Jewish education and community institutions in Toronto. Through him, I came to understand the power of thoughtful, intentional philanthropy—how giving, when done with care and purpose, can build something enduring. His legacy taught me that Jewish giving is not only about responding to need, but about investing in a future we may never fully see.  

My own journey has been deeply shaped by loss. Over the years, I have experienced multiple tragedies, including the sudden deaths of loved ones and, ultimately, the loss of my husband. Grief has been a constant companion—but so has choice. I chose to turn pain into purpose. That choice led me to volunteer in support of families affected by suicide and homicide, offering what I have learned the hard way: that even in the darkest moments, there is life after loss.  

Resilience is the Jewish value that guides me most. We are a people who endure. Despite centuries of persecution, despite being few in number, we are still here. That knowledge grounds me, especially now, when Jewish life feels fragile in new and unsettling ways. It also gives me hope.  

Giving—through volunteering, experiential philanthropy, and intentional Jewish support—has given my life meaning and direction. Supporting Israel, engaging directly with those affected by trauma, and building a focused legacy through the Jewish Foundation allows me to give thoughtfully, with intention, and as part of something larger than myself.  

If there is one message I hope to leave my children, my grandson, and future generations, it is this: be proudly Jewish, stay connected to community, and never underestimate the power of resilience. We have overcome before—and we will do so again.