I recently had a moving experience—literally. My husband and I sold our home of twenty years plus, packed up, and (mostly) moved to Cleveland. A flood of cards, calls, emails and FB messages ensued. I felt so grateful and very humbled. I never dreamed so many people would want to say goodbye…friends, former colleagues, former students…some whom I hadn’t seen in a long time. It was emotionally overwhelming, personally empowering, and beautiful beyond words.

Yet what really surprised and touched me were the gestures from people whom I’d hired to help me over the years, mostly doing maintenance and repairs around the house…people I called my “team.” There was the yardman, the sprinkler man, the people who did miscellaneous repairs, and the woman who cleaned my house.   I was so touched by their hugs, their words, their gifts and the special effort some took to come by.  I always tried to be respectful, considerate of their needs and paid them fairly and promptly. Is that a big deal? Isn’t that what everyone did?

Then this past week, I read a commentary on Parshat Nitzavim that really hit home. I love this parasha, but I’ve never before focused on this one particular item. In one phrase, Moshe refers to whom his comments apply —“your tribal heads, your elders and your officials, all the men of Israel; your children your wives, even your stranger your camp, from the one who chops your wood to the one who draws your water.” (Deut. 29:9-10) Your, your, yours. The foreigner, who is “yours,” is your responsibility. The quality of his life is in your hands. He is not to be just tolerated, but rather counted and nurtured. In other words, those are “your peeps” and you are theirs.

It gave me a good feeling to read this just a few days after all the hugs described above. I never felt that I had treated “my peeps” in any extraordinary way. On this mitzvah, at least, I guess I’ve done okay. Memories of the exhausting packing and loading will fade. But my lasting memory will be that of the huge outpouring of love.

This concept, of course, extends beyond our own “team,” and applies to all the invisible people who maintain order and cleanliness in our worlds… the crop pickers, the cleaners, the packers, the drivers, the stockers…. all of them. Once I was on cruise that stopped in a beautiful port in the Dominican Republic. I found my self face-to-face with the woman cleaning the restroom floor. I still very much recall how she smiled when I acknowledged her hard work and thanked her for keeping that restroom so pristine. Apparently, she doesn’t hear that much. These folks, too, are part of us.   They are “ours” in a way. Do not overlook them. Do not treat them as trivial or invisible. That only diminishes each of us.