Go the Extra Mile

My dear friends, I would like to thank you for all the emails, calls, and conversations about my publisher’s letters and what they have meant to you all these years. So many of you have told me how you always look forward to the next one, and I am humbled to know that what I write affects so many people.

If you have followed me, you know I like to write from my heart, and this issue of our magazine is no exception. In fact, I want to share a memory that penetrates very deeply into my psyche—probably one of the most difficult things I ever witnessed as a young child. Why talk about that now, you might ask? Well, the recent tragedy in Washington, D.C., where a young couple, both Israeli Embassy staff members, was murdered outside of the Capital Jewish Museum, has triggered this deep-seated memory.

As mentioned in one of my previous letters, I grew up in a three-generation household in Germany. My grandparents built our home and added a tiny house in the backyard to shelter people in need. One family they helped was a Turkish couple with young children.

One day when my mother did not have to go to work, she stayed home with me and my grandmother. She was upstairs cleaning when the doorbell rang. Since I was downstairs with my grandmother, I jumped up from the sofa and opened the door, my grandmother close behind. It was the man who my family was allowing to stay in the little house. He asked if my parents were home, and I replied that only my mother was there. At that moment, my mother joined us at the door, and the man pulled out a knife and started hitting her. I tried to bite him so he would stop, and my grandmother also tried to help my mother, but the man shoved both of us off. My mother broke away and the man started to go after her, but then he ran away and was gone.

I will never forget that scene or the fear I had afterward. I did not know if my mother would live until the ambulance came. She did survive, but she had to deal with extreme health issues for the rest of her life.

I imagine the young couple murdered in Washington, D.C., must have had some of the same feelings—not knowing what was going on or if they would live through it. Unlike my mother, they did not survive, and their families had to say goodbye to them.

When hearing about such tragedies, we often wonder how we would feel afterward. When I think back to my own experience, I remember a mix of emotions. Was I angry? Maybe, but mostly I recall feeling badly hurt. Did I start to look at other nationalities with hate? I can honestly say that I did not, nor do I today. Rather, I believe the incident made me who I am today—a strong woman who helps others wherever she can.

When my husband asked me to find a new mission for our company, TOTI Media, in 2010, I said, “How about this: We support the beginning of life, and the end of life!”

This is what is needed around the world today. We are granted only a certain amount of time to enjoy each day. Consider the following statement, often attributed to the actor Anthony Hopkins: “None of us are getting out of here alive. So, stop treating yourselves like an afterthought. Eat delicious food. Walk in the sunshine. Jump in the ocean. Say the truth that you are carrying in your heart like hidden treasure. Be silly. Be kind. Be weird. There’s no time for anything else.”

I would add to the end of that statement this idea: There’s no time for anything else than to give your support, help, and do good. Let us all send love out to the universe and pray for healing for everyone.

Thank you for allowing me to share so deeply with you. At TOTI Media, our hearts go out to the families of that young couple in Washington, D.C., and, indeed, to everyone who has faced one of life’s worst tragedies and survived with their values and love for humankind intact.

Keep helping. Keep loving. Keep standing for good.

Daniela J. Jaeger

Group Publisher, TOTI Media