Impact Stories

My name is Linsey Gatto. For me, Jewishness has always felt like a sacred responsibility, a privilege, and a connection to my Austrian great grandparents Max and Rosa, who were killed in a concentration camp in Riga, Latvia.

I was raised with a traditional Jewish upbringing, and was always close with my grandma Lisa, whose survival and immigration made possible a future full of people, my whole family, who would have never existed otherwise.

When I became a parent, it became deeply important to me to pass that heritage and deep connection down to my two boys.

Finding Jewish community in Dutchess County as an adult has required intention. It has been a bit of a dance to find a synagogue that feels accessible, connected, and welcoming — not just a place to go, but a place to belong. Pardess has become that place for our family.

Rabbi Sandhaus and his wife Goldy have created a community that feels warm, thoughtful, and open. What stands out most about Pardess is how they make Jewish life not feel like an obligation, but something joyful. My kids love going to Hebrew school with Goldy and Rabbi because it isn’t rigid or forced- it’s creative, engaging, and filled with unique and thoughtful touches. I tell my boys all the time how lucky they are to be having such a positive Hebrew school experience in comparison to the one I had, which I remember as pretty devoid of fun. When I pick my kids up from Hebrew school, they share stories of games, crafts, baking lessons, and helping care for the farm animals. It is an absolutely unique and special piece of their childhood.

I really feel it’s because of Pardess, that the Judaism that was passed down through generations in my family, even through unimaginable loss, is continuing. My kids aren’t just learning history and tradition, they’re building a strong, positive relationship with their Jewish identities.

Pardess has become a space where we all feel welcomed and seen. We are really grateful to be part of it.

Hi, my name is Karen Mevorach. I moved up to a rural town near Pawling after 65 years on Long Island… talk about a Jew in the wilderness! After a lifetime surrounded by bagel shops, synagogues on every corner, and people who understood what I meant when I said “oy,” suddenly I was in farmland and forests. Thank G‑d for Google, because one day I typed in “temples near me,” hoping for something Jewish within a reasonable drive.

Up pops “Pardess Chabad, Hopewell Junction.” A farm? An orchard? A Jewish congregation on a farm? I thought, “This can’t be real — this is exactly why I moved up here, to be closer to nature.” Curiosity won, so I dialed the number. To my surprise, Rabbi Sandhaus himself picked up the phone — and within minutes, he wasn’t just welcoming me, he and his wonderful wife Goldy were inviting me to my first Shabbos meal in years.

But here’s the thing: while he literally answered my phone call, what truly mattered was that he answered a deeper call — the call back to Judaism that I didn’t even realize I’d been waiting for. I had been a pretty secular, somewhat isolated Jewish woman for a long time, with only occasional bursts of Jewish feeling. Suddenly, I wasn’t a lonely Jew wandering the wilderness anymore. Pardess had opened its gates, and I finally had a place where I belonged.

Now, I have somewhere to go — every holiday, every Shabbat. Every week, the Rabbi sends me a message with the week’s Parsha and a reminder of when to light the candles. And guess what? Now I actually light the candles. After being so far removed from Jewish life for so long, it’s taking me a little time to catch up, relearn, and remember all of our beautiful traditions. But I’m on the path — and the best part is, I’m not walking it alone.

So my journey toward a richer, more meaningful Jewish life has begun… and if you’re looking for me, you’ll find me at Pardess — the farm, the orchard, the community, the place where my Jewish soul woke back up.

Shalom… and see you there

My name is Richard Friedman, I first got to know Rabbi Zalman about two years ago, when he stopped by my home before Pesach to personally deliver handmade shmurah matzah. It was such a simple gesture, yet so genuine and thoughtful, that it left a strong impression on me. Over time, through conversations and small interactions, I began to truly appreciate the sincerity, humility, and goodness that guide everything he does. And we became good friends.

Rabbi Sandhaus has shown me, time and time again, that giving to others isn’t just an occasional act — it’s the very heartbeat of what it means to live as a Jew. One moment in particular opened my eyes to how deeply this is woven into who he is, and what drives Pardess Chabad.

One day, I had just received a new, oversized 100-pound TV. Two deliverymen were at my house struggling to maneuver the enormous box down the stairs to my basement. I was doing my best to guide them, but it was clear they were having a tough time.

Just then, Rabbi Zalman happened to stop by to say hello. Without hesitation — without being asked — he immediately stepped in. He didn’t take the easy end or offer light help from the side. He went straight for the bottom: the heaviest, most awkward, and most dangerous part of the lift. And with that steady, quiet strength of his, he helped the deliverymen guide the TV safely down the stairs.

Watching him in that moment moved me deeply. It wasn’t a grand gesture, it wasn’t planned, and no one would have blamed him for staying out of it. But he saw a need, he saw people struggling, and he instinctively put himself exactly where the help was needed most.

That small moment taught me something profound. Our Rabbi doesn’t just talk about kindness — he lives it. He embodies what it means to be a Jew who gives, who notices, who steps in without fanfare. That’s the kind of person I aspire to be. That’s why I love our congregation and its leader. Because true greatness — being a true mensch — shows itself in moments just like that.

When we think about loving our fellow human being, we often ask ourselves, “How can I lift someone’s burden?” That day, the Rabbi showed me the answer. And I hope we can all carry that instinct for giving in our own hearts.

Chabad has impacted my life in more ways than I can count. It has brought me back to my faith and helped me understand how essential it is to keep growing in Jewish learning and tradition. One of the practices that now anchors my day is wrapping Tefillin; a powerful reminder of who I am, where I come from, and the connection I have with G‑d.

Shabbat gatherings, reading from the Torah, learning together, and simply being surrounded by a community of people who genuinely want to celebrate and live their Judaism would not be possible without Pardess Chabad. And one of the greatest blessings of all has been the friendships formed along the way, especially at the monthly services. Month after month, those moments of prayer, song, and shared experience have helped me build connections I truly cherish.

I am deeply grateful to Rabbi Zalman and Goldy for creating a home for all Jews, no matter their background or level of observance. Their warmth and guidance have given me—and so many others—a place where we can grow, reconnect, and feel proud of who we are.

Shalom to everyone. My name is Susan Cohen, and my mom is Rose Greenberg. I grew up in Rosedale, Queens — a neighborhood filled with Jewish, Italian, and Irish families. I went to Hebrew school at the Rosedale Jewish Center and grew up as a conservative Jew. In our home we spoke Yiddish, Spanish, and English. My parents were immigrants — first from Europe and then from Cuba — and our Jewish traditions were always present. My father made Kiddush on Friday nights with challah and kosher wine, and my mother faithfully lit the Shabbat candles. As the years passed, we children grew up, moved away, and eventually started families of our own.

When my son moved to the Hudson Valley and had three boys, I decided to follow and settled in Fishkill, New York. As wonderful as it was to be closer to my grandchildren, I felt a little out of place in a new community.

Sometime after I brought my mother up here to New York from Miami, a young Rabbi rang my doorbell one afternoon. Since my mom was home, I welcomed him in. And then something remarkable happened — he spoke Yiddish. My mother’s face lit up. She said it felt like God had sent him to our home. That Rabbi was Rabbi Sandhaus from Pardess Chabad.

Since that day, we’ve stayed in touch through messages and visits. We visited the Pardess Chabad Farm Market and brought home the most delicious challahs — truly better than anything from a bakery — all handmade by the Rabbi’s wife, Goldy. We’re already looking forward to visiting again next summer. My mom was thrilled when the Rabbi’s son spoke to her in Yiddish during our visit. At 94 years old, she misses hearing her native language; it’s rare these days unless you’re in a very frum neighborhood. Seeing her so uplifted at the farm was a gift.

We feel incredibly blessed to have met Rabbi Zalman and Goldy Sandhaus. Thanks to Pardess Chabad, we feel connected to our Jewish roots in a warm and meaningful way. In a new place, their kindness brought us home

I was asked to write about my story and connection with The Pardess Chabad and Rabbi and Goldy Sandhaus, however I was asked to limit my comments to a page or less. That seems like an insurmountable task, as they have done so much for me and my family that I feel like I could write a novella, but I will do my best.

When I met Rabbi Sandhaus I was a non-observant reformed Jew. While I appreciated his kindness and welcoming nature, I was hardly ready to live an observant Jewish life. That was before my family ended up in a terrible predicament that none of us would ever have suspected would befall us. Without going into details, our family was hit with a life-altering challenge that turned everything upside down and changed our lives in ways we could never have imagined.

That’s when the Rabbi reached out to me on his own, already aware of our unique situation even though I didn’t know he was, and offered a suggestion: “Let’s go visit the Ohel Chabad in Queens to Daven.” I was reluctant at first for a number of reasons. Firstly, I didn’t know what the Ohel Chabad was. And once its significance was explained to me I felt it was disingenuous of me to pray at such a religious site, as I was not a religious person. After discussing it with the rabbi, I acquiesced and thought there could be no harm in praying even if I believed it was a fruitless endeavor.

So we went to the Ohel Chabad, where I prayed and wrote a note that I left at the grave of The Rebbe, Rabbi Schneerson. In my note, I asked for nothing for myself and asked only that my family would have peace. After we left, we went to a kosher restaurant and had a lovely meal, then headed back upstate. While I felt connected to my roots while at the Ohel Chabad, I thought nothing more of the prayers I had offered or the peace I had requested for my family.

That was until I received a call the next morning that our family’s situation had shifted and that there was now a real possibility of a far better outcome for everyone involved in our terrible misfortune. I knew instantly that my family had been the recipients of a true miracle and that even if I wasn’t a strong believer in G‑d, G‑d had believed in us enough to make our path easier.

That day changed my life fundamentally. I understood that I had been the recipient of a miracle and made a commitment to myself to repay G‑d’s belief in me with regular thanks to G‑d. I also made a commitment to Rabbi Sandhaus to join for Shabbat services at least once a month. Since then, I further demonstrate my commitment to G‑d by davening daily, giving thanks for everything my family and I eat and drink, and making sure the Shabbat lighting candles are lit in our house each Friday.

All of this would not have been possible if not for Rabbi Sandhaus reaching out in my darkest time to offer the light that he shares at Pardess Chabad. I am forever grateful for all he, his family, and the Chabad family as a whole have done for my life, my family’s lives, and all of our souls. I hope that this short story will help convey to you, the reader, how valuable Chabad Pardess and the Sandhaus family are to our community as a whole and to each of us as individual Jews.