We are a movement of young people. The number of haverim. that we have lost is mounting too quickly. Each time it seems that our best is taken. Each time it seems impossible, unbelievable. We are at a loss as to what to say or do, how to react.
Miriam came to us late. Nevertheless, all of us, even the old timers were able to learn a great deal from her. She joined us when she was already in her twenties. She came to us because she had decided upon the path of self-realization. Immediately, she threw herself entirely into our work. She was among our most devoted; she had a great capacity for hard work. Sometimes it seemed as if she carried the whole burden of our movement and our people on her slight shoulders. During one of the war years, when we were suffering from a critical shortage of leadership personnel, she served as rosh of the New York region, as rosh of one of the mahanot, as rosh of several madrichim groups, as rosh of our national funds work, and as editor of Alot (the national publication specifically for our halutzim)-all these at the same time. She was one of the few people who was ours completely. She strove for self-fulfillment in our movement even before she went on aliya.
Miriam was a school teacher by profession. She brought a real understanding of the meaning of education into our movement. She was a madricha in the true sense of the term. Her primary concern was always the development of the individual. The small group discussions, the mahaneh activities, Camp Kvutza-these she considered as means to an end, their purpose and justification being to instill values and attitudes within the haverim. She understood her educational function not as one of directing the group, but as one guiding the individual. Thus she worked closely with the individual haver; upon him she centered all her efforts. And she exerted a tremendous amount of influence upon those with whom she worked.
Her aim was to prepare younger haverim. for the tasks of movement leadership and self-realization. Wherever she went, she sought out young haverim with devotion, with, understanding, with ability, and worked with them. And wherever she worked, in Baltimore, in Winnipeg, in New York, she left her heritage: a corps of responsible haverim.
Miriam was brought up in an Orthodox religious home. Thus, she came to us with a deep appreciation for Jewish tradition. She continually championed traditional practices in our movement. Shabbat celebration, a Third Seder, or Tisha B'Av program in which Miriam had a hand always made a powerful impression. She was able to put meaning into Jewish tradition, to synthesize the old and the new. Both in our movement here and later in the kibbutz in Eretz Yisrael, the lack of traditional observance caused her a great deal of discontent. Her sense of complete identification with Jewishness and her acute sensitivity to the tragedies of the Jewish people are a reflection of her traditional background.
Miriam wrote prolifically and she has left us a rich legacy of her written word. The volume of her Shabbat and other program material, of her articles in our various publications, indicate to us the creative being whose "life song" was "suddenly cut off." Her many letters to haverim gave us an insight into this devoted, sensitive, troubled havera who "before her time ... passed away.