Her many grandchildren received tender loving care from her, both in their homes, and when she hosted them in her own Brooklyn home. When she lived in Israel with her daughter, Linda and the Jacobson family, Mrs. Beck was famous as the Savtaof Ramat Beit Shemesh. Mrs. Beck took personal interest and was hands-on, sharing with her children, grandchildren, and others the wonderful values that she stood for.
Mrs. Beck had an uncanny ability to extract the key point of any discussion, and come up with a relevant anecdote that cemented a life’s message. No anecdote was random; every story had a purpose. With 15 minutes quickly becoming an hour, her mesmerizing stories, lovely voice, twinkle in her eyes, and personal touch were like magnets, drawing people close to her. Everyone wanted a chance to absorb her practical and wise counsel.
Mrs. Beck’s deep sensitivity and respect came through in all her conversations. She encouraged people to value and appreciate themselves for their particular gifts. She often quoted her revered grandfather who would say, “Have nachas from yourself!”
Mrs. Beck’s impact was far-reaching, with many adopting new ways because of her influence. One woman who visited the family during Shiva, revealed a small purse from her bag which she carried around with her. Apparently, she had been inspired for years to carry around this “chessed purse” – with small scissors, safety pins, and Tylenol. In fact, Mrs. Beck had given that idea to a group of women 20 years ago at a shiur that this woman had attended. She never forgot the lesson: always be ready to help others.
From New York to Israel to Los Angeles, from the schools where she taught, to the lectures given to adults, to the one-to-one counseling, she inspired many, and was truly everyone’s grandmother.
Mrs. Beck will be remembered by all who knew her. Even those who met her just a few times were struck by her grace and warmth. Mrs. Beck was a real person, with no airs or pretense about her. As Rabbi Baruch Gradon said at the levaya, Mrs. Beck was an aristocratic, elegant woman always, but gashmiyus was not her focus. It was an honor to be influenced by her, and we ache for this loss.
Mr. and Mrs. Beck merited to have children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren who followed in their footsteps, showing understanding to all around them. Mrs. Beck and her husband, Mr. Reuven Beck, a”h, were a true team, a match made in shamayim. Their shalom bayis was legendary, with their famous refrain of “Just be nice.”
Mrs. Tama Beck is survived by her children Carol Bess and her husband Rabbi Gershon Bess, and Linda Jacobson and her husband Rabbi Yitzchok Jacobson, and her sisters, Mrs. Marsha (Mashie) Tekuzener, Mrs. Simi Teigman, and Mrs. Shelly Budow, as well as many grandchildren and great grandchildren.
May her memory be blessed. May she be a mailitz yosher for her family, community and Klal Yisroel.
* * * * *
Ode To My Savta Beck
Written in tribute to Mrs. Beck, before her passing, by her grandson.
Savta oh savta, the love of my life
(Aside from my parents, children and wife).
I heard you were sick, and that things were quite rough,
And decided to sit and write down some stuff.
To relive some memories, of which there are many
From East Seventh Street, to Fruits-a-Plenty!
So come take my hand, there’s no need for a cane,
And let’s walk together down memory lane.
In my earliest memories, there always was you,
You were almost Mom Number Two!
When giving us dinner, after a bath in the tub,
You’d sing your song of the Clean Plate Club!
I fondly remember those city bus rides,
Outings and trips, right there at your side.
Brighton Beach to pizza, and then a toy store.
An outing with Savta – could I ask for more?
Those trips were so fun, but they always had meaning,
(And they only happened, after I helped with some cleaning).
Like going to nursing homes and bringing food,
Helping people feel better, and raising their mood.
You taught me life lessons, some big and some small,
And now that I’m grown, I’m thankful for all,
Like the strength of a smile, instead of a frown,
(And the importance of leaving the lid down!)
You taught me not to take the last fruit in the drawer,
For others may want it and there won’t be any more,
That one special lesson, I’ve never forgotten…
And my fridge is now full of these fruit – (some have gone rotten!)
You taught me to avoid conflict and strife,
And that “edsha” could solve all the problems in life,
You taught me with wisdom, and often with jokes,
(One Purim you even had one of my smokes!)
You barely got mad, through a bit of my teen shtick,
Even though some of this trouble, must have made you a bit sick!
And if I went too far, or made too big a mistake,
I knew nothing says “I’m sorry” like a good piece of cake!
I grew up on stories, and tales from your past,
From your Papa’s Shabbos table, to meeting Zaidy in class,
Stories from Texas, from Elizabeth and more,
Stories of Zaidy preparing for war.
Stories of faith, in good times and bad,
Stories of strength, stories happy and sad,
These are the stories about what life is,
These are the stories I tell to my kids
For I learned from these tales how challenges faced
Can be handled with courage, with poise and with grace,
How sometimes what seems to be simple advice,
Can make all the difference – like the words “JUST BE NICE”!
There’s a photo I have, it hangs on my wall,
You know this picture, it’s known well by all,
The portrait is old, in black and white,
But it’s vibrant and strong, and glowing with light.
It’s a young man and woman, who smile as one,
On a journey together, that they’ve just begun,
The man is a soldier, and always will be,
With his beautiful bride, they smile happily.
Since that picture was taken, you’ve accomplished so much,
So much chessed you’ve done, so many lives touched,
The people you helped, the guidance you gave,
Marriages built, relationships saved.
My children are curious, “Who’s that man and lady?”
I tell them the stories from my Savta and Zaidy
They beg, “Tell us more! What else did they do?”
My son wants to know, what plane Zaidy flew.
I tell them those stories, that I grew up hearing,
The stories you told me, while grandchild-rearing,
The stories that taught me what’s real and what’s not,
The stories that taught me – and still teach me a lot.
They want to hear from you, but that will have to wait,
As I explained to them, Savta’s not feeling too great,
So please get better soon and know that we miss ya!
I hope to get to LA, to hug ya and kiss ya!
But until I can, this ode will have to suffice,
Thanks for the stories, the talks, and advice,
And so now I end off, though there’s much more to say,
I love you,
Your grandson, YMJ