For six years I have been conducting a writing workshop for women writers at the senior center in South San Francisco. Many of the women are in their 80s. Today with 10 members, we boast eight prize-winners and seven published writers.
Included in our group is a Holocaust survivor, an AIDS nurse, a survivor of a Japanese internment camp, a double lung transplantee and two breast cancer survivors.
We meet every Wednesday, except major holidays. Twice a year we meet with families for a party. All holidays are celebrated: Jewish, Christian, Buddhist. We share food and stories on these days.
With three Jewish members, Purim, Passover and Chanukah bring new insight into everyone’s life. At our holiday party we eat latkes and light candles just prior to Santa’s entrance.
We call our group WOW (Women on Writing), but we are much more than that. We have grown into a sisterhood of writers and friends. We do special meditations when one of our sisters or a family member is ill or in need.
Of course, we also share mitzvahs with each other.
The ambiance at the senior center is incredibly haimish. Most of the “workers” there are volunteers. Most are over 70. Many are in their 80s.
Volunteering here is an integral part of my life. The nachas I receive is beyond what money could give me. Someone asked me recently how my life would change if I won the lottery. I hesitated for a nanosecond and replied, “Well…on Wednesdays, I know how my life wouldn’t change.”