Renewal in the Relay for Life

“To find a cure … to fight back … for friends and survivors …

to honor survivors … in memory of loved ones … for those who can’t …”

Those were some of the 20 “reasons to relay” that appeared in the program book and on commemorative T-shirts for this year’s 20th anniversary Greater Attleboro Relay For Life for the American Cancer Society. They’ve always served as motivation for those dedicated to the event.

The national Relay For Life began in 1985 when Dr. Gordon “Gordy” Klatt  walked and ran for 24 hours around a track in Tacoma, Washington. He covered 83.6 miles and raised $27,000. Klatt died Aug. 3, 2014, from heart failure and stomach cancer, but what he started has exceeded all initial expectations, raising more than $5 billion worldwide.

Klatt left a legacy of giving back and showed what believing in miracles can do. No one who has participated in the relays will dispute that.

Over the last two decades, I’ve participated in this worthy cause, serving as a team captain, team member and, this year, a member of the organizing committee. The relay always leaves me spiritually renewed.

This year, we adjusted to a new location, Norton High School, instead of the longtime site at North Attleboro High. A new method of lighting the luminaria that line the track in memory of cancer victims and in honor of survivors was also tried.

Instead of candles, held down with sand, a cumbersome combination, we switched to anchoring the bags with canned goods and adding glow sticks. This proved easier to handle, and the cans were donated to food pantries.

That donation was in keeping with the Jewish traditions of charitable giving (tzedakah) and making the world better through volunteering (tikkun olam), which have always been an integral part of these events.

And this year, it was a good feeling to know that the food cans had served a dual noble purpose: anchoring the luminaria – yahrtzeit lights in the purest sense – and helping to feed the needy.

Donating the cans also reinforced my long-held belief that the Relay For Life is a fundraiser where mitzvahs and miracles reign, a realization that I came to years ago. From that point on, I knew that this event, which is held for a secular reason – raising money for the cancer society – makes me far more spiritually fulfilled than most other experiences.

One year, for example, I was moved to tears while walking around the track during a “silent lap” when the walkers, led by a lone bagpiper, were urged to honor the names on the bags by thinking about them. During that moment, I did what came naturally: I recited parts of the mourner’s Kaddish.

That action may not sit well with those religious leaders who strictly adhere to the requirement of a minyan being present before saying Kaddish, but I didn’t mind. Saying Kaddish while memorializing loved ones worked for me as I’ve always considered those walking next to me to be friends who give me comfort.

During another year, we were lifted spiritually when it seemed a miracle had occurred after the rain let up just enough to allow the candles to be lit, and in other years, rainbows lifted our spirits.

As I jogged around the track on the Saturday morning of this year’s relay and saw the food pantry volunteers remove the cans from the luminaria, it dawned on me why I keep coming back: All of the participants are true menschen, which is what we’re supposed to be striving for as human beings.

Their example should be emulated because the world would be a much better place if more of us took the concepts of tzedakah and tikkun olam to heart.

LARRY KESSLER is a freelance writer who can be reached at lkessler1@comcast.net.