Ira Riklis and Important Charities

For those of us blessed with family and friends, and enough money to provide for a comfortable home and to put food on the table, holidays can be the best of times. But for others, they can be the worst of times. Ira Riklis knows that the holidays are particularly lonely for our elderly neighbors who may have outlived spouses, friends and sometimes even their own children. Yet these are days when government-funded support programs used to remain closed. But Citymeals on-Wheels works through the holidays to provide healthy meals and a bit of welcome companionship for homebound elderly New Yorkers.

Citymeals is family to nearly 17,300 New Yorkers who depend on them. And they have not let them down, even for a single day—even in the toughest of times. They’ve been at it for nearly thirty years now, growing over time as the need has grown. And Ira Riklis has been a supporter through much of this time. How about you? Even if you don’t live in New York, there are groups working to aid the elderly and disadvantaged near you. Why not make a donation or give of your time to help them?

It’s just human nature that, when you give of your time and resources to help others, you expect a bit of praise and accommodation so that things go smoothly. But as we all know, it’s not always like that. When giving blood, Ira Riklis has a times run into situations where he feels a sense of frustration or a feeling of “why, oh why are they doing it that way?” At times like that, he’s found it best to accept the moment with a bit of good humor while remembering that ultimately you’re doing a good deed for others.

For example, he finds it odd that phlebotomists take your blood pressure after they’ve stuck your finger to get a blood sample. Of course it will be higher after they’ve stuck you! And on one occasion he went in to give and found that the blood center had changed their forms to include language Ira Riklis felt was unnecessarily invasive. When he objected, the receptionist told him that if he didn’t sign the forms, they wouldn’t take his blood. Realizing that any counter-argument to such “logic” would be a lost cause, he smiled to himself and filled out the new forms.

In today’s world, $18 won’t get you all that much. Yet each year, some of the many groups and organizations that Ira Riklis and his family support receive checks for just that amount. Why do they bother to give anything at all if they’re only going to give such a seemingly insignificant amount? The answer lies in the ancient Hebrew practice of Gematrea, which is a numerological study that involves the calculation of the numerical equivalence of letters, words, and phrases in Hebrew texts.

In one mystical text—the Sefer Yitzirah or “The Book of Creation”—the letters of the Alphabet are described as the stones used to build a house. And in Hebrew, every letter has a numerical equivalent. Ira Riklis knows that 18 is the numerical value for the Hebrew word for Life. Since he and his family, blessed as they are with wealth, can’t contribute large amounts to every worthy organization, their gifts of $18, or some multiple thereof, provide a show of symbolic support to the Life of those groups to whom they give less than they would prefer to able to give.

At Aish HaTorah, they understand that Judaism without Torah is like a body without a soul, deprived of its connection to the spirit. The organization’s name means “Fire of Torah.” And their passion is to teach Jews (and non-Jews) around the world about the Jewish holy book. Ira Riklis knows that the goal of Torah study is to develop caring, thinking human beings, who honor every person as created in the image of God. And as the Talmud says: “Torah scholars bring peace to the world.”

The group is strictly Orthodox in their beliefs in contrast to Ira Riklis, who considers himself a “Conservadox”—somewhere between Conservative and strictly Orthodox. Nevertheless, his appreciation for the organization’s outreach efforts, and their commitment to offering guidance and teachings to all who come to learn, have made him a long-time supporter. Over many times over the years, the group’s Rabbis have been there to provide him with warmth and guidance during low times in his life.

While many have never heard about bone marrow transplants, Ira Riklis knows that they’re now being used to save the lives of thousands of people each year. That’s why he’s registered in a national registry of potential bone marrow donors. But while he stands ready, he knows he may never be called upon to make a donation. That’s because it’s much more difficult to match donors with recipients than it is to match blood types with those who need blood. And—unlike blood donations—bone marrow donations must be made at the time of need.

A bone marrow transplant is when stem cells normally found in the bone marrow are taken out, filtered, and given back either to the same person or to another person. They’re used to treat, and even cure, diseases in which a patient’s bone marrow—which is vital to producing new red blood cells—is unhealthy. And while it may sound like a painful procedure for the donor, Ira Riklis knows that it’s not. In most cases, donors receive medication that causes stem cells to move out of the bone marrow and into the blood. After a few days, the donor’s blood, along with the circulating stem cells, is drawn from a vein in a procedure much like giving blood.

The joyousness of the holiday season is often tempered by the realization that so many people are in need. Like many of us, Ira Riklis is often touched and saddened by stories of the homeless and hungry, of children from dysfunctional and abusive families, of elders alone and forgotten in their apartments. Blessed by God with health and prosperity, he and his family try to reach out and offer their support whenever and wherever they can. But the need is so great, that they sometimes feel a sense of sorrow that they can’t do more.

At those moments, Ira Riklis takes comfort in a story told to him by his Rabbi. In the story, a man standing on a beach watches as someone approaches from a distance. The person occasionally stops, stoops to pick up something from the beach then tosses it into the water. Eventually the man realizes that it’s a young boy who is picking up starfish and throwing them back into the ocean. “What are you doing,” the man asks as the boy comes near. “Why, I’m saving starfish,” the boy replies. “But there are so many starfish,” the man responds, “And you are just one boy. You can’t possibly make a difference.” At that, the boy finds another stranded starfish, picks it up and returns it to the safety of the sea. He then turns to the man and says, “I just made a difference to that starfish.” During the holidays, you might take some time to reflect on how you can make a difference in the lives of others, even if it’s just one starfish.

It’s no surprise that children in the U.S. under age fifteen ride bicycles far more often than the rest of the population. Sadly, that also means that they account for nearly half of all bicycle-related injures and death that occur each year. Ira Riklis is aware of these statistics and he knows that when the training wheels come off a child’s bike, the risk of injury increases dramatically. Not only are children still in the process of mastering the skills of bike-riding, they’re also filled with a new sense of freedom and joy that can lead to carelessness.

Scuffed elbows and knees and even the occasional broken bone are one thing. But the greatest danger lies in traumatic head injuries that can lead to concussions or even death. Fortunately, there is a solution that can help reduce the number and severity of these injuries: properly fitted bicycle helmets. That’s why, when a child safety organization in Charlotte, North Carolina, approached Ira Riklis some years back to see if he could help provide helmets for local kids, he was quick to oblige. An event was planned, and on a fine spring day more than 5,000 kids accompanied by their parents, gathered in the parking lot of a local YMCA to be fitted for a free helmet.

A sad fact of life in today’s economy is that having a job doesn’t necessarily mean having enough to eat or a roof over your head. In New York City alone, one-quarter of the city’s homeless are employed. Many others are out there each day, working hard to find a job. To help give these people a head start, Ira Riklis has spent many a Friday morning over the past twelve years helping the Central Synagogue Caring Committee serving up hot breakfasts and sack lunches to those who need them.

He knows that the Caring Committee is the only food kitchen in the area that operates between 5 and 8:30 a.m. on Thursdays and Fridays. That makes it an invaluable resource for those who are trying to get up and out early to their jobs or to the even harder work of looking for a job. Ira Riklis appreciates the fact that these people are trying to rebuild their lives and knows that a two nutritious meals can go a long way toward helping them realize their goals.

The Emunah Bet Elazraki Children’s Home in Netanya, Israel, is home to 180 children who range in age from four to eighteen. All come from dysfunctional families with histories of violence, drug and alcohol abuse, mental illness or abandonment. And as Ira Riklis knows, for these at-risk youth, the home offers their best—and perhaps only—chance of escaping the cycle of distress which has marked their lives, and to start a process that can lead to them to becoming emotionally and physically healthy young adults who are able to function as productive members of society.

At the home, they are well fed and nurtured, often for the first time in their lives. Dedicated and well-trained staff members see to their education and provide therapeutic and academic aid. Perhaps even more importantly—as Ira Riklis observed during a visit to the home a few years back—they receive love and attention. They are welcomed into a healthy extended families which they can feel part of for the rest of their lives.

For Ira Riklis, performing philanthropic acts is an integral part of his faith. The Talmud teaches: “When a person gives even a perutah (the smallest coin) he or she is privileged to sense God’s presence.” While such giving is commonly referred to as “charity,” in Judaism it is called “tzedakah,” which means fairness. When you perform acts of tzedakah, you are, in essence, returning to others that which is rightfully theirs. In other words rather than giving gifts, you are helping to restore justice.

While all acts of tzedakah are inherently good, not all are considered equal. To give to a person or cause begrudgingly and only after being asked is considered a lower form of giving. Your charitable acts should never require others to feel embarrassed or humiliated by their need. Ira Riklis knows that among the highest and most just form of tzedakah are gifts that provide others with independence, freeing them from the need for relying on charity in the future.