The Craft of Aging Gracefully

By Rafi Sackville

Over 40 years ago, in an effort to help me develop a creative side to myself I didn’t know existed, I was steered into doing an apprenticeship first with a jeweler and then with a graphic designer; I showed little predilection in either field. The jeweler was situated within spitting distance of the Old City. He was an old man, who said little and gave me directions by example. I’d sit at a wooden desk that looked and felt like a relic from the Ottoman period and, file in hand, spent day after day filing settings for rings. My boredom was eventually matched by the graphic artist’s insistence that I spend my time observing more than doing.

Then, on a windy evening towards the end of winter, I found a large piece of leather outside Jaffa Gate in Jerusalem. It felt wonderfully malleable. It was soft to the touch on its outside but rough inside. It appeared a contradiction of sorts. Sharpening a butter knife and a fork, I turned the discarded scrap into a shoulder bag. I recollect proudly walking around in a sweater I had knitted from raw wool that I had spun myself and the bag slung across my shoulder.

Since then, I have made hundreds of leather items from bags and shoes to wallets, megillah cases and tefillin boxes. I’ve accumulated more tools than I can shake a stick at. Leather craft has granted me an outlet that is both therapeutic and creative.

In America, it was easy to purchase leather hides, the tools and paraphernalia necessary, but here in Israel the businesses are not centralized. Leather hides are not where one can buy hand tools and machinery. Furthermore, purchasing leather online is risky; it’s always best to physically inspect it first.

Then there is Eldad. He’s an artisan living on Kibbutz Afek in the Zevulun Valley in Western Galil. There he built a large workshop he proudly calls Omanya, where he runs lessons in leather craft. He is set up to teach up to twenty people at a time. There they make all kinds of leather projects, from keychains to face masks, from sandals to shoulder bags.

Eldad is an engaging and excellent teacher. He is a mixture of humor, expertise, and patience. He guides without imposing himself on his students. Most importantly, the workshop exudes an atmosphere of happiness.

Eldad provides more than classes. He buys and sells leather and hand tools. Moreover, he has the room to house large

Officially, I have one more year to fulfill until I reach the age of retirement. Up until this point in my life my chosen profession as a teacher has been fulfilling. The happiness I find in class and among young people in general has lent teaching the feel of a hobby; maybe that’s what is meant when we describe people who thoroughly enjoy their work as having the feeling of not really working. I’m still not sure I’m ready noise was so loud I was forced to leave the classroom and stand in the hall. I thought it a total waste of time, until one little chap told me it was the best half-hour of his life. He stood next to me waving a malformed and unrecognizable piece of leather in his hand; he had pounded it into pulp. machinery, which offers small artisans like myself services such as stamping and cutting pieces of leather.

To my mind, the lure of retirement is like the call of sirens: dangerous. Unless one is totally prepared for retirement and is sensible and self-aware enough to know how to deal with the sudden inundation of free hours that are a retiree’s lot, leaving the workforce can be devastating.

Israel is no different than any other country in this regard. Only take into consideration the difficulty many olim from Russian-speaking countries face. Many make Aliyah at an advanced age having spent their working lives without any pension plan. Once they retire, they will be lucky to have more than $1,000 a month to live off. People my age oftentimes discuss the dire situation of such immigrants as a comfort for having a pension plan in the first place.

I’d want nothing more than to remain active in my later years. I perish the thought of sitting at home doing nothing. There’s a yeshiva up the road which offers a course for retirees that I’m looking forward to joining. There are the occasion columns I enjoy writing. Finally, there’s the lure of my craftwork that is reassuring as my time in the classroom comes to an end.

It’s a great service, especially knowing Eldad is only an hour away. His workshop is right next door to the kibbutz cowshed. The irony isn’t lost on anyone; one is hit by the smell of leather goods inside coupled uncomfortably with the wafting shock to one’s olfactory glands coming out of the cowshed. Add to that sounds of bovine bellows wailing in through the windows and the experience is totally “leather.” to retire, but it’s something that I cannot ignore; the issue needs addressing sooner, rather than later. I’ve seen so many people retire and then flounder. I want to remain active and enterprising.

I have thought about opening a small workshop, but memories of running a leather activity in Darchei Torah’s summer camp still give me pause. I was approached at the 11th hour to teach a group of sixth graders. I outfitted them with pieces of leather, rubber mallets and stamps. For half an hour, they pounded away until the

I’d mostly want to concentrate on making items like megillah cases and tefillin boxes, like those pictured here – something that will keep me occupied and, more importantly, allow me to be creative and imaginative. And when I need to buy and punch leather pieces, and when I am short of hardware, I have the comfort knowing that Eldad is only 45 minutes away by car.