When one wants to honor a giant of the community, it’s inevitable to use expected words: pioneering, treasured leader, legacy, mentor, inspiration, generosity, and so on.
All those words apply to Annette Shapiro, who passed away last Friday at the age of 96.
Indeed, for much of her adult life, she and her husband Leonard have been a pillar of our community. If the word “pillar” applies to anyone, it applies to them.
The Journal is publishing tributes where you can learn more about the many causes she was involved with, as well as details of her expansive life. There are many who knew her a lot better than I did.
Here, I just want to add one personal observation.
Her smile.
Or, should I say, her cheerfulness.
Over the decades that I’ve known Annette, including regular breakfasts at her favorite place in Westwood, Friday night Shabbats at our house, and the countless galas and community events we both attended, that was the one constant: she was always cheerful.
Of course, I write these words at a time when cheerfulness is probably the last thing on the minds of American Jews. If there’s one thing we can all agree on these days, it is that things have gotten significantly worse for American Jewry.
How can we remain cheerful when the mere idea of going against Jews and Israel has become so popular?
I don’t know how Annette would respond to that. For all I know, there might have been many times when Annette herself was not cheerful.
All I know is that every time I saw her, she was in an uplifting mood. Even when she would discuss a difficult subject (often related to her beloved Beit T’ Shuvah), she spoke with a sense of goodness and gratitude.
Maintaining a positive disposition so consistently is difficult to pull off. I know I can’t.
I once heard a rabbi say that the best way to honor the departed is to take on one of their great traits.
I love the trait of cheerfulness.
That’s the one I will take.
I love it because it raises the spirits of everyone around you. It’s the trait that keeps on giving.
I love it even more now, when Jews could certainly use an emotional boost.
For me, that is Annette’s legacy: no matter what, no matter when, she gave our community a boost. She showed us a smile eternal.
