When I was 12, we lived above a flower shop and a bookstore. The owner of the flower shop was a joyful man, who was sure to give us kids a big smile, a loud “shalom!” for hello and sometimes even a free bouquet to give Mom. I’d pass through the flower shop daily on my way to the bookstore. An English bookstore on Rehov Herzl. A tiny shop filled with books all the way to the ceiling. There were a few narrow aisles in the back with just enough room for me to sit cross-legged on the floor reading for hours. I knew where every book was in the store – even the clerks would ask me where books were!

I was reminded of our little bookstore last night when my husband and I found another English bookstore. Open in the evening, filled with customers and helpful clerks recommending book after book after book. I left with several and now I won’t run out of good reading over the holidays!

For today’s Friday Note, I share with you my friend Sheila. She died a few months ago and I will miss her forever. Here’s why —

My family had just moved to Israel for a year long sabbatical taking me totally out of my Californian, Lutheran comfort zone. Suddenly, school was a no-English, only Hebrew zone and I had to get on with it. To fill the time, I took out my notebook and attempted to copy the teacher’s chalkboard writing.

Fortunately, Sheila was in my corner. Although she had her own family of three kids and a job as a social worker, she taught me my first Hebrew words and made sure I had a few basics. Rather than dwell on the difficulty, she believed in me. Coached me to meet the challenge of school in a foreign environment. It was just one year – I was 12 and Sheila was in her 30’s – but we forged a life-long bond.

Over the next 44 years, Sheila danced in and out of my life. She would like that choice of words – dance, that is – because she always wanted to be a good dancer. In the 80’s she was an aerobics instructor and later while living in Beijing she was obsessed with Tai Chi and reached the master level. The last time I saw her, she proudly showed me a photo from a Chinese newspaper of her doing Tai Chi in a Beijing park. She bragged – Don’t I look beautiful in this photo? Yes, she did!

During my college years in Davis, California, she spent a year there on sabbatical and I enjoyed her vegetarian feasts, diverse sets of friends and our conversations. Later, when I was overwhelmed and needing a break, she offered me a place to live for a summer back in Israel. At her house, I re-energized and was able to assess what I wanted to do next. Later, she was tending to an elderly relative in California and got to know me as a newlywed and new mother. Years could go by without contact and yet when we’d see each other, time melted and we picked up where we left off.

Sheila was a global wanderer who thrived in the developing world. She preferred places that were chaotic and gritty. She left the US in the early 1970’s for a life around the world in Israel, China, Australia and Ethiopia. Like a kid in a candy store, she loved a smelly, colorful, outdoor market – particularly the Shuk Ha’Carmel in Tel Aviv. Even in a heavy rainstorm when the streets would fill with rivers, she was in her element chatting with her favorite vendors as if it was the most beautiful day. She loved Ethiopia and even adopted Ethiopian children. She became a photographer and loved long walks with her camera. She survived breast cancer and chronic health issues. She volunteered with “Save a Child’s Heart” helping give children in developing countries a normal life by repairing their heart defects. She loved the sea and lived in a small flat with a little view of the Mediterranean which soothed her soul.

We last saw her in January. She knew her life journey was ending and spared us the information; instead putting her energy into thoroughly enjoying our visit. We spent New Years Eve together, ringing in the new year and appreciating our friendship and families.

Since the news of Sheila’s passing, I’ve been remembering. She believed in me, marveled at me really. But I wasn’t unique – she marveled at everyone. Each child who arrived at the Save a Child’s Heart facility, my daughters, her children and grandchildren, her friends. She believed in them all. It wasn’t all “lovey dovey” as we say in America, she held strong opinions and frequently told you what she thought with great certainty and bluntness. She was stubborn and deeply caring all at once.

We like to say we should bring our “wholeselves” to work and life. In other words, be totally ourselves, unedited. Looking back, I realize Sheila gave me the gift of a role model who did just that – she brought her wholeself to everything she did.

I ask myself – How can I bring my belief in others forward more, a Sheila-level of marvel and wonder at the gifts of others? How can I be more unapologetically myself, bringing my opinions and views out into the open? How can I have the courage to continuously reinvent myself like she did, leaning into my creativity and exploring my talents?

I am so grateful we made time to visit her in January for one last time living life together.

Sheila died a few months ago and I will miss her forever.