The Healing Power of Giving

Readers are invited to use this forum to express personal views and address issues of concern to fellow Jews. Send submissions to ja@ou.org.

What does chesed have to do with brain health?

After his wife passed away, Harry S., a retired accountant from Montreal, found himself facing a quiet he hadn’t known before. In his seventies and newly retired, his days had lost their structure. For decades, life had been organized around clients, family routines, and the steady partnership he shared with his wife. When she died, that rhythm disappeared almost overnight. Without work or shared daily life, he felt not only lonely but untethered, with long stretches of time that became difficult to navigate. He described the days as “blending into one another, with nothing really marking the time.” Gradually, he noticed changes in himself—low mood, difficulty concentrating, a kind of mental fog setting in. “I just didn’t feel like myself,” he said. His family noticed, too, gently urging him to get out more, to stay engaged, but watching as he became increasingly withdrawn.

Looking for something to fill the hours, Harry began volunteering at a local kosher food bank and community kitchen, delivering meals to older Jewish adults living alone, many of them homebound, some of them Holocaust survivors. What began as a one-afternoon-a-week commitment gradually became part of his life. He came to know the people on his route. Over time, he found himself part of a small circle of steady, reliable volunteers. At a Chanukah gathering, he was asked to bring his guitar and play. It was a small moment, but it stayed with him. He was no longer simply filling time. He was part of something.

As time passed, the change became visible. His mood lifted, his sense of purpose returned, and the fog began to clear. He was present again.

He was no longer simply filling time. He was part of something.

Harry’s experience is not unusual. For many older adults, volunteering or engaging in ongoing chesed becomes a stabilizing force—not only socially but emotionally and cognitively as well. What does chesed have to do with brain health? Turns out quite a bit. Research has found that older adults who remain socially and intellectually active tend to experience slower cognitive decline and better overall well-being. In one study, older adults who volunteered in elementary schools showed measurable improvements in memory and executive functioning over time, suggesting that the combined effects of social connection, cognitive challenge and purpose may be protective.¹ In another long-term study published in PLOS Medicine, volunteering was associated with a lower risk of cognitive decline and dementia compared to non-volunteers.²

In my clinical work, I see this often. Older adults tend to do better when they continue to take on responsibilities that are meaningful to them. One of my patients, after being diagnosed with mild cognitive impairment, continued serving on the board of an art museum. Drawing on a lifelong interest in art, she described mentoring younger colleagues and engaging with new material as restoring a sense of steadiness and focus in her life.

Sophie R., now seventy, had been involved in chesed since early adulthood. Retirement left Sophie with more time—and one persistent question: Where could she still make a real difference? She was not looking to stay busy. She was looking for something that mattered.

She became more deeply involved in the organizations she had long supported, taking on board roles that challenged her. One role involved evaluating student competitions. “I was looking for more human interaction,” she said, “and more cerebral activity.” She found both.

What she described, without naming it directly, resembles what researchers call cognitive reserve—the way sustained mental engagement can build resilience over time.

Her husband encouraged her involvement, aware that without it she would be more vulnerable to periods of depression that had surfaced in the past. Indeed, researchers have also found that late-life depression is itself a risk factor for cognitive decline and dementia;³ emotional well-being and cognitive health, in that sense, are closely intertwined. Even during difficult stretches, she persisted in her work. “That’s who I am,” she said simply. “No matter how I felt.”

In later life, that sense of purpose often takes intergenerational form. A study published in Psychology and Aging found that grandparents who are actively involved with grandchildren tend to show better cognitive functioning, including memory and verbal fluency, and may experience slower decline over time.⁴ In many cases, the relationship itself provides structure—attention, language, memory and identity are strengthened through caring for and spending time with grandchildren. Those who do not have grandchildren or cannot be actively involved with them often find similar benefits in working with children in other settings.

Mr. E., now ninety-two, will tell you without hesitation that the fifteen years he spent reading with children at a local elementary school were the most rewarding work of his life—more than any professional role he had held.

His path to that classroom began unexpectedly. The idea came from a chance conversation with retired teachers during a trip with other retirees. Something in their suggestion took hold. He had retired at sixty-nine to care for his wife, her illnesses serious and compounding. With his children living out of town, he faced a simple choice—hire someone or step in himself. For Mr. E., there was no real choice at all. But caring for her did not consume every hour, and the idea of volunteering with children never left him. He approached the Hebrew Academy, within walking distance of his home, and began volunteering to teach reading to seven-year-olds—children old enough to know their letters, young enough to be learning to read fluently. The school matched him one-on-one with students, and he followed the same children across two full years, from the beginning of second grade to the end of third. From age seventy to eighty-five, he showed up several times a week, without fail.

What unfolded was more than reading instruction. He came to know the children—their rhythms, their struggles, what was happening at home. Some confided in him. He listened, and when he heard something that concerned him, he brought it quietly to the teachers’ attention. One child made no progress for an entire year. When Mr. E. gently asked why, he learned that there were no books at home and the child did not have a library card. He brought this quietly to the teachers, a library card was arranged, and the following year the child began to read.

“I really felt I was doing something worthwhile,” he reflected. “In some cases, I was doing something that nobody else did—or could.”

The experience sustained him as well. “It kept me on the ball,” he said. During years increasingly defined by caring for his ailing wife, the children gave shape to his days. Each child required something different of him. He was always learning, always adapting, always needed.

When his wife’s condition deteriorated, he stepped away to care for her full time. He looks back on those fifteen years with gratitude. He still hears from some of the families. One of them is mine.

Notes

1. See systematic reviews examining the relationship between volunteering, social participation, and cognitive and emotional well-being in later life. Anna Keefer et al., “Does Voluntary Work Contribute to Cognitive Performance?” Journal of Multi-disciplinary Healthcare 16 (2023).

2. Griep, Y., et al., “Can volunteering in later life reduce the risk of dementia? A 5-year longitudinal study among volunteering and non-volunteering retired seniors,” PLOS ONE (2017); Carlson, M. C., et al., “Evidence for neurocognitive plasticity in at-risk older adults: The Experience Corps Program,” Journal of Gerontology: Medical Sciences (2009); and Stern, Y., “What is cognitive reserve?” Journal of the International Neuropsychological Society (2002).

3. Byers, A. L. & Yaffe, K., “Depression and risk of developing dementia,” Nature Reviews Neurology (2011); and Holmgren, S., et al., “Depression as a risk factor for dementia,” Translational Psychiatry (2020).

4. Chereches, F. S., et al., “Grandparental caregiving and cognitive functioning,” Psychology and Aging (2026).

Dr. Rachel Goodman is a clinical psychologist and neuropsychologist with more than twenty-five years of experience in mental health, brain health, and healthy aging.