I usually write about or interview Peace organizations made up of Israelis and Palestinians for the last four years on my vodcast PEACE with Penny and/or antisemitism for the last 1 ½ in my Times of Israel Blog. It seems we are going through increasingly dark times. Unfortunately, there is too much tzuris (Yiddish for troubles) to go around amongst Jews, Israelis, Palestinians, Gazans and especially the world’s innocents—children.
But I said this would be a different kind of Peace that I’m writing about. It is about children, and the need for Peace within, no matter how old. Unfortunately, despite all the positives in the world, there is still the heartbreak from how children are sometimes treated. It’s easy to see on our nightly news that all of these dead and injured children don’t deserve their fate. Yet there are still so many silent victims, whose wounds are more subtle, that they may not realize the extent of their pain, even when they are adults. Whether during wartime or not, so many need to be wrapped in a blanket of Peace. After last year’s Childspree event, I realized the personal impact this experience had on me as well.
On July 27, 2025, we will be hosting the 12th Annual Back to School event. I thought I’d give you a heads-up in case you found it in your heart and purse to want to donate to the cause.
Last year was my first year participating and I thought I’d let you know what I learned. We met with sixty-six foster children, aged from five to teenagers, for Childspree. At this annual event, volunteer shoppers meet with foster children, providing them with clothes and backpacks filled with school supplies to help them start the new back-to-school semester with pride. The usual suspects were there from our congregation, Jews who repeatedly live up to our obligation to make the world a better place.
Who knows what each child’s story is? None deserved to be a foster child, but here they were. Children far too often pay the price of their parents’ oblivious choices. Looking further, I found my heart broken. For whatever reason, the child was removed from the home, but the abuse didn’t stop there.
The foster system is defective, and these kids are paying the price. On any given day, nearly 437,000 children are in the foster system, 60,000 in California, which has the largest number of kids in foster care. I found that these children were often moved 3-5 times during their stay in foster care, and it is reported that for each time they moved, they lost 4-6 months of academic progress. Only 50% of children in foster care will finish high school. You don’t have to be a social worker to know that with these statistics, their futures look bleak. I was glad that at least for our time spent together, we were able to bring some joy and needed support into their lives.
Childspree is a yearly adventure from our synagogue, founded for over a decade by Kim, a congregant with a heart of gold and a singing voice of an angel. This was the eleventh event. Yearly, $175 is raised for each child, and we meet at Macy’s to shop with them. Last year, twenty-four of Macy’s employees volunteered on their own time to help with the decorations and answer questions. After shopping, each child would also receive a backpack with $120 worth of school supplies.
The Elf Foundation was also involved and distributed piggie bears, along with reusable tote bags, storybooks, and coloring books written in both English and Spanish.
We each greeted a child who was randomly assigned to us. We were told to try and say their name at least three times throughout our time together. It is so sad that for these kids, so deprived by the happenstance of life, to be acknowledged by their name could mean so much to them. I’m such a softie, I had to remind myself, ‘No tears!’
I’d heard the entreaty before for other volunteer work that I’d participated in throughout the years. I wasn’t surprised, but a pain shot to my heart, and I thought, there but for the grace of God go I. The twinge reminded me of a story my mother told when I was young that she thought was funny. She said, “I wanted to have another child, so I poked holes in the condom!” My father didn’t think it was so funny. There were three of us. My stepbrother, my mom’s son, who is thirteen years older than I, left for the Navy when I was only four. My older brother had his own tragic story. May he rest in Peace.
I’ve never been entirely sure what happened, but I know that, at least for the start of my life, I lived at Mrs. Woods’ home, a foster mother who lived on the other side of the block. The only picture I have of myself as a baby is in a crib lined up in a row, with other babies. My mother said it was because, instead of a delivery room, I was born at the hospital in a regular bed. As the story goes, my mother was contracting in pain, apparently making too much noise, and the nurse told her to be quiet. With that, my mom says she pulled back the covers and yelled back, “Well then tell my baby to be quiet!” Then, she received the much-needed attention.
My mom said that because of the trauma of my birth, she was unable to take care of me, so Mrs. Woods helped out. She told me I was only there a couple of weeks. Who knows? What I do know is the picture of the baby in the crib was not of a newborn. As the saying goes, if my parents knew better, they would have done better.
I realized these kids could have been me. My own long-buried wound had peered out from my heart. It had been years since I thought about my beginnings. I gently slipped it back inside.
The kids arrived with their social worker or parent. To break the ice, I had breakfast with “Maria”. Maria was a Hispanic child, somewhat overweight, dressed in jeans and a crop top. A normal teenager, who needed a visit to the dentist to get her teeth cleaned and if she was really lucky, straightened. I wondered if that would ever happen. She was entering ninth grade and high school for the first time. I asked her if she was excited to go to a new school, and she replied, “Yes.” Later she confided that she had moved many times in her young life, and I wondered since she was going to a new school, if she had any emotional baggage that she was carrying with her, and how many times she had moved—another twinge to my heart. As I had discovered above, moving these kids repeatedly is a cruel foster system chess game, no child should have to endure. Her favorite subject is English. I told her that I could relate to what she said. I love shopping for just the right word. She continued that sometimes she writes stories. It made me smile. Similarities between people, regardless of age, gender, ethnicity, and other factors, can always be found. People are just people.
Once we began shopping, I was grateful to Macy’s for their numerous 40%-50% off sales racks, which helped the money go so much further. Our goal was to be sure we found an entire outfit, and any additional clothes were a bonus. A few times during our two-hour shopping spree, her social worker would appear to check on how things were going. Gratefully, it was fine. Maria would search through the clothes, and as she found prospects, I would hold them for her. When she went into the fitting room, I waited outside. I was relieved when she came out and told me that all the clothing she had chosen fit. Maria was sweet, quiet, and polite. I’m sure it must have been awkward for her shopping with a stranger, and I tried to make it as comfortable as possible.
Concentrating on sale items, we did quite well. We were able to purchase two tops, a pair of jeans, socks, shoes (the Nikes were, of course, the most expensive, but on sale for $70, whohoo!), and a cute pajama set that she had confided she really needed. At the cash registers, we were told that she had just a little money left, and the cashier asked if she wanted to purchase a candy bar that was conveniently located next to the register. It was a sweet way to end our purchases.
Additionally, each child received a backpack filled with school supplies. Finally, they could pick up some free toys if they wanted, such as a frisbee or a jump rope, and were asked to take a spin on the game wheel to see where it landed. The landing points each had encouraging phrases like “I am Great!” which they were emboldened to say out loud, and then they were given another small bag of goodies.
Then it was time to go home. Her social worker met us, and I asked Maria if it was ok if I hugged her. She said, ‘Sure,’ and I gave her the biggest hug I could, saying goodbye and wishing her a wonderful new semester.
After a little while, I saw my friends, who had been volunteering since the start of Childspree. The mom had been a social worker and came with her husband and grown daughter. They were experienced, so they were assigned an entire family with three young boys, and the boys’ mother accompanied them to provide assistance. My friends were grateful that the mom was there, because one of the boys she had observed couldn’t stay still. Happily, by the end of the time, they had successfully found outfits for each of the boys, and they too were set to start the school year with new clothes and supplies.
I noticed my friend giving the mom her phone number to help her if needed, as her kids were going through the court system. I teased her that I was surprised that, through the years, she hadn’t ended up with some more kids at home. She joked back, saying that who said that she hadn’t? As we rode home together, we compared our experiences of the day. It seems throughout her life, she happily collects many of life’s strays, helping them out with a ride here, or some advice there. It’s important to acknowledge that with all the misfortune in this world, there still are sincere, kind-hearted people as well.
On the way home, I thought about our day. I hoped that the hug I gave Maria would give her some love and comfort, as was intended. I wish that her life this year would be more Peaceful. The teenage years are challenging, even when you are surrounded by love. I hoped her inner strength would carry her through.
As for me, after all these years, the wound is still healing. I’ve tried to use it as inspiration to help others.
As the 2025 Childspree is approaching at the end of the month, we hope that you will find it in your heart to help. As you’ve read, it’s a terrific event, and the more money raised, the more children can be helped. If you care to donate, the donation is tax-deductible.
Please do so at: www.tbesoc.org/childspree-25.html or any questions? Email: Kim at kgubner007@gmail.com
May You Live in Peace, שלום and سلام.