After many decades of serving on the New York Supreme Court, where you changed hundreds of lives and mediated thousands of cases, you are officially retiring from the bench. I want to take this moment to thank you for the lessons you have taught me. These four lessons changed my life and the lives of your grandchildren.

1. Women Have Unique Strengths

One of the most inspiring parts of watching your career was that even during the height of feminism, you never sought to become like the men around you. For years, in many rooms, you were either the only woman or one of just a few at the table. But you taught me that in Judaism and in life, women have unique gifts, and we should never be afraid to use them.

You were not like the other judges. Your empathy and talent for resolving disputes quickly earned you the reputation of one of the best in your district. You always spoke up and never apologized for being exactly who you were—a woman who knew the power of her wisdom and her ability to help others.

Thank you for teaching me to be strong, to honor my unique gifts, and to never fear speaking up. Because of you, I am proud to be a Jewish woman today.

2. Israel Is Our Home

You raised me with such a deep love for Israel that, as a child, I thought everyone who lived there was actually part of our family. And you didn’t just donate—you went there at every possible opportunity. Whenever there was a mission during war or times of crisis, you used your vacation days to visit the sick in hospitals or bring toys to children in the south under rocket fire.

Even without knowing much Hebrew, you made friends everywhere you went. After October 7th, you joined one of the first missions to visit hostage families and bring clothing and gifts to displaced families. Though told to avoid political positions as a judge, you refused to remain silent. “Standing up for Israel is not politics,” you said. “It’s supporting my homeland. No one will tell me I can’t pray for the return of our hostages in public.” And so you wore a necklace with the hostages’ names every day—at work, in court, and while traveling—never letting their suffering be forgotten.

Thank you for teaching me that Israel is our home, and that our hearts are always in the East.

3. Shabbat Is a Gift

No matter how hectic the week was, you always stopped everything for Shabbat. Your entire staff knew that as sundown approached on Friday afternoon, the Judge was leaving the courthouse—no exceptions. Even when you were running for office, you refused to campaign on Shabbos, despite your campaign manager insisting that the most important events were on Saturdays.

And you didn’t just stop for Shabbat—you loved it. You didn’t need to tell me Shabbat was a gift; I saw it in how you counted down the days each week. Every Friday night you welcomed guests into our home—people who might otherwise never have experienced a Shabbos dinner. Even some of the non-Jewish lawyers and judges asked to return for the fresh challah, roast chicken, and Kiddush that sanctified the week’s end.

Thank you for showing me what it means to love Shabbat and to treasure it as the gift it truly is.

4. Don’t Give Up—Your Mission Is Waiting for You

From the outside, people assume your success meant you always knew where you were going. But as your daughter, I know the road was never smooth. Many times, you had no idea what lay ahead—you simply took the next right step, even if it meant risking failure. And whenever you set out to achieve something, you persisted until every option was exhausted.

This is the lesson I am most grateful for. Because of you, I don’t take failure personally. I remember one election night when you lost by just half a percent. I asked what you would do next, and you simply said: “I’m going to run again. Not someday—tomorrow.” And the very next day, you started a new campaign.

This is your legacy: Never give up, because your mission is waiting for you. Life’s purpose comes from the meaning we create. The Jewish people need you. Israel needs you. Recognize the gifts you’ve been given, and use them to bring light into the world.