Jeanne Major makes it look so easy — as if all she does is conduct a party for a circle of old friends each week. Last Monday, Sept. 17, her weekly Yiddish Vinkl at the YM-YWHA of Union County actually was a kind of party, with more than 30 people present, including a couple of personal friends, to celebrate her 10th anniversary of conducting the informal Yiddish classes.

There was a spread of cookies and a big bunch of flowers for her, but there was still the usual rapid-fire exchanges of Yiddish.

"This is a tough job," exclaimed senior adult services director Susan Silberner, thanking Major for her decade of service. "When you're dealing with a group of people who are so articulate and opinionated, it isn't easy to get everyone working together."

She pointed out that Major conducts the classes simply as a volunteer. "We're very grateful," she said.

"It's not a labor; I do it out of love," declared Major, who lives in Union. "I do it to honor my parents' legacy to me."

Though born and brought up in Brooklyn, she spoke nothing but Yiddish until she was five and started school. "My parents came from Europe, and that's all they spoke to me," she said.

After they died and she moved to New Jersey 35 years ago with her late husband, she stopped speaking the language altogether. And then came an invitation to take over the Yiddish class at the Y, and it all came back.

"You never forget," she said on Monday, and heads nodded in agreement all around the room. It is clear that she learns from her students as eagerly as they learn from her.

The previous teacher made a practice of reading the Bintel Brief, letters by immigrants seeking advice from the editor of the Yiddish Daily Forward, and the class would discuss the problems set out in them. Major didn't want to dwell on problems, she said, so she developed her own format of casual discussion, interweaving memories, current events, and lots of personal opinions.

At the celebratory 10th-anniversary lesson, she stuck to that plan. After all, it has made the group one of the longest-lasting and most successful Yiddish classes in the region. Swooping around the circle, speaking in Yiddish punctuated with English queries about meaning or exclamations of appreciation — "Oh, isn't that a beautiful word!" or "You get a double A!"— she had her students talking about health care plans, Iran, and O.J. Simpson, and what it means to be a good Jew, a real mensch.

The Vinkl participants called out words for "sin" and "valor" and "spirit" before Major had them reminiscing about pushkes, and putting pocket money into that familiar little box for charity.

A discussion about illegal immigration turned into a heated argument between two friends who simply couldn't be silenced. "You two are like shwesters [sisters]," Major exclaimed, and goodwill prevailed.

Only when feelings ran high did English take over, for Major as much as for her students. "When I get excited, I speak English," she admitted, throwing up her hands.

George Lewis of Cranford, a more recent addition to the group, said, "I know very little Yiddish, but Jeanne makes it so lively and interesting. She's unique."