More Than Miracles. Ben Volman

during the 1930s. But no one succeeded in casting a shadow on his sterling character. Not even his severest critics could shake the public’s well-earned trust in his integrity.

      The Evening Telegram appointed a reporter, Rose Macdonald, to write a daily column on the work of the Institute. A typical newspaper article from the Telegram (November 1935) carried the headline “Mayor Praises Director as Scott Institute Opens.”⁶ The item describes Mayor Simpson’s presence at the fall opening of the Mission’s 1935 season of food and clothing distribution. Accompanied by the public welfare commissioner and the local superintendent of welfare, the mayor announced to the men who had assembled at the Mission, “The City of Toronto is particularly proud of him for doing this work…I hope you always will appreciate what Mr. Zeidman has been doing these past few years.”

      Occasionally the Toronto Evening Star also featured the charity. Their front page article on February 21, 1935, read “Get Behind Dance For Scott Institute” and promoted an upcoming dinner-dance for several hundred guests at the King Edward Hotel that had the “hearty support of Mayor Simpson and many of the city’s most prominent citizens.” At the end of each winter distribution season, both newspapers reported on the official statements of appreciation from the city, including the mayor and the board of control (city council).

      The extent of the work followed the ebb and flow of the Depression years, but on average there were 500 to 700 meals served daily. During the toughest years (1935–37), that figure was closer to 900 daily meals. When the city of Toronto honoured the work of the Scott Institute with a special resolution of thanks on June 27, 1935, they received Morris into council chambers and read an address of appreciation, including this statement:

      The Scott Institute has recently completed another successful winter programme of work, during which…a total of 130,000 meals were served to the hungry in our midst…[by] the Reverend Morris Zeidman, assisted by his good wife and a corps of enthusiastic volunteers.

      Not every year was a success. In 1938 the winter season of distribution closed in mid-April, weeks ahead of schedule, because of declining support. More than 60,000 meals had been served, but the accumulating deficit was close to $700. Morris told the Telegram, “we hope and trust that kind Providence will find the means for us.” A year earlier, he reminded the reporter, they had finished with a $1,000 deficit, and a single donor wrote out a cheque for the full amount. “Another such miracle might happen!”⁷

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      As the services to homeless transients began to outgrow his expectations, Morris had one reason to hesitate. He feared that ministries to Jewish people would suffer. In particular, he feared that the women and children in weekly programs would be intimidated by the crowds of men. The response was quite the opposite, and he was able to write supporters that his Jewish ministry was expanding: “to our amazement it has increased and some services, like the mid-week prayer meeting, have trebled in number.”

      An increasing number of Jewish families would come to the Scott for groceries and financial help to pay overdue bills and rent. (Many would sit through the mid-week prayer service before approaching him about their needs.) Those who benefited were not placed under any obligation other than to accept that his assistance was a sign of his own genuine faith. Morris and Annie felt this was simply a reflection of the truth of the gospel.

      Morris began experiencing a new level of respect from the Jewish community. In 1931 he noted with genuine surprise that “a prominent Jewish Zionist” had provided a generous bequest of 50 dollars “for the furtherance of our work.” In time, he saw a quiet growing acceptance of the role as a charity for Jewish people in need. “The missionary,” he wrote, “is looked upon as a welfare worker and carrier of the glad tidings of Christ.”⁸

      This story was told by one of Toronto’s distinguished Messianic Jewish leaders, the late Rev. Dr. Edward D. Brotsky, who grew up in an Orthodox Jewish home during the Depression. Brotsky was a boy, about ten or eleven years old, when his parents ran out of food. Desperate, and with no idea where else to turn, they sent their son to get help from the Scott Institute. Young Brotsky approached the building but was too afraid to enter. He stood on the sidewalk until Morris, in his clerical collar, came outside and approached him. Hearing of the family’s plight, he assured the boy that there was no need to come inside. Putting some money into his hand, Morris sent him home.

      The role of friend and counsellor “in times of trouble” opened doors that would normally have been shut to a Jewish follower of Jesus. His relations with “leaders and rabbis” became more favourable, and this was reflected in donations he received, both in funds and in kind. A local Jewish newspaper even allowed him to place his advertisements in its pages. After all, Jewry holds charity (tzedaka) in high regard, and even today, there are many in Toronto’s Jewish community who maintain a fond appreciation for the work of the Mission.

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      A few large scrapbooks in the Mission archives give us a closer look at day-to-day life for the Zeidmans during the Great Depression. The pages are covered with yellowing newsprint stories from The Toronto Telegram. Selections were usually grouped together by month and year; exact dates were not always recorded, and some aren’t readable. While we know that the paper assigned Miss Rose Macdonald to cover the work of “the Scott,” none of the stories included her byline. Nor are these regular news stories. The names of recipients are withheld to preserve their dignity and described with just enough details for readers to imagine themselves or a loved one needing similar help. Only portions of the stories are cited. Every column ended with a list of recent donors: individuals, often with donations of $1 to $5, and businesses that provided food or gifts in-kind.

      November 1935

      Needy Mother Gets Carriage from “Anon.”

      Clock Also Sent to Home to Regulate Feeding Time Necessary for New Baby

      Appeal was made in The Telegram the other day on behalf of one of the Scott Institute’s protégées, a young mother who had just brought her baby home from the hospital—a delicate baby. The infant’s feeding timetable needs to be followed meticulously—but there was no clock in the home, nor was there money to buy one. Response to the appeal was prompt. An anonymous giver sent a brand new clock, and a much needed baby carriage was supplied by someone else. The mother, the Scott Institute folk and The Telegram join in saying “thank you” to those who helped so spontaneously.

      January 21, 1936

      Meals Served Daily at Scott Exceed 600

      Task Is Heavy, But Gratitude Gives Encouragement to Institute Workers

      They are serving over 600 meals a day at the Scott Institute, a big piece of work in terms of meat and vegetables to be prepared and cooked and served—and paid for. But the gratitude and independent spirit of many of the men who sit at the Scott tables is to Rev. Morris Zeidman and his helpers a heartening encouragement to go on with the work.

      There were two young men, for instance, who came from out of town on their way to take jobs. They had no money to tide them over here. At the Scott Mr. Zeidman saw that they had food to eat and a place to stay. The young men were most insistent that they pay their way by serving the Institute on Elizabeth Street at their own trades. There was, however, at the moment no need for such services…The offer, nevertheless, was appreciated.

      January 23, 1936

      Crutches, Long Stored, At Last Find Their Job

      Scott Institute Able to Answer Call—Sleigh Helps Family Get Fuel—Many Pleas For Aid

      “You never know when it will come in useful.” Everybody has said it sometime or other. The Scott Institute has proved the truth of the observation.

      Since last spring they have had a pair of good crutches about the place. But nobody seemed to need them. What to do with them has often been the suggestion.

      They have been given to a woman, bereaved last month of her husband, who had