My grandmother, Esther Rosenfeld

I was born into a divorce situation, and the person who mostly raised me was my grandmother, Esther. My parents were there too, but they were busy. Esther Rosenfeld was my role model, the person from whom I received the vast majority of my love, the person who fed me, took care of me, and always kept her door open. Her love was unconditional. Until the age of 41, Esther was a huge part of my life, and until my 40th birthday, we spoke on the phone almost every day, even if only for a minute. It was quite remarkable. I always called her by her nickname, Saftush, which means grandmother in Hebrew. To this day, my friends from Israel call me Saftush too, and it has become my own nickname in Israel.

Whenever I came to her home, she greeted me with food and love, and when I was ready to leave, she would tell me to rest, because the couch was always there for me. I had many naps thanks to her. When I was very young, she took me everywhere with her, to the movies, to visit neighbors, and to fill out lottery tickets.

From the earliest part of my childhood, I also remember Esther calling the bank to trade stocks. In the 1990s, she would read the printed newspapers, follow what was happening with different companies, and make small investments based on what she learned. She did not have a lot of money, but she understood the importance of paying attention, making decisions, and creating something with what she had. She always made sure to give me some money as well. That was another part of her giving, another way she showed her love and made sure I felt supported.

More than anything, Esther taught me how to communicate with others, how to support strangers, and how to say hello to everyone on the street. Her greatest talent was that she truly saw people, regardless of who they were. If the man at the lottery stand did not look well, she would ask how he felt and take him to the doctor herself. He didn't have insurance, so she paid for the visit.

When the old mailman came by with the mail, she would try to get him to come up and have some food. One day he told her that he was about to lose his job because he was too old. What she did was marvelous. She wrote letters, gathered signatures, and convinced the municipality to let him keep working, because he needed the work. He was old and weary and had lost his wife. The job was everything he had. She got him a one-year extension, three years in a row. He lived longer thanks to her.

One day, the only bus line serving our neighborhood was cancelled. She went around the neighborhood, organised events, brought the community together, talked to the media, and got the transport authorities to bring the bus back.

Esther passed away at 93, but everything she gave me continues to live inside me. She taught me that love is something we practice by noticing people, caring for them, feeding them, supporting them, and helping them feel that they matter, with no need for anything in return. When she walked the streets in our neighborhood, everyone knew her, and everyone would say hello. She loved animals, and she was energetic and positive. She taught me what love, entrepreneurship, kindness and persistence are. When I was 24, I added her last name to my passport, and Liran Jakob became Liran Jakob Rosenfeld. I carry her last name with pride, and every time I register a new company or start something new, I give it a name that reminds me of her.