J

ew-hatred is a fascinatingly flexible force. It has shape-shifted throughout time, finding form and expression in wildly divergent locations, religions, political systems, and cultures. One thing that hasn’t changed, though, is our persecutors’ tendency to brand us as the face of the Evil Du Jour.

We’ve been painted as primitive retrogrades refusing to bow to an enlightened religious order, as cunning revolutionaries plotting against established monarchs, as greedy capitalists sucking away hard-earned resources from the poor, as Marxists toppling the pillars of the global economy, as dirty foreigners polluting the gene pool of a glorious host country.

In the current breakdown of oppressors and victims, we’ve been branded as privileged colonizers seeking to ethnically cleanse a people from their own land. The uptick of anti-Semitic attacks since October 7 — be they in Brooklyn, London, Belgium, or Australia — seems to revolve almost entirely around this theme. Jews are assumed to be Zionists, and therefore unwelcome, unwanted bigots, targets of justified hatred.

It’s a disturbing and disillusioning development for all Jews — but especially for those who see themselves as liberated, socially conscious citizens of the modern world. There are lots of those among our secular brothers and sisters. For those who cast Israelis as Nazis and their genocide-craving neighbors as hapless victims, the definition of “Jew” most certainly does not include affinity for the Jewish country. But suddenly they’re learning that their personal politics don’t really matter.

Turns out, you can write books scolding the settlers, or op-eds excoriating the Zionist enterprise, and your book signing will be canceled anyway. You can loudly and proudly condemn Bibi as a war criminal — subtext: unlike compassionate, liberal me — and you will still find graffiti outside your office. You can studiously avoid any mention of the Middle East conflict among your peer group of fellow therapists and social workers, but they will stop referring clients to you anyway, because you’re an assumed colonizer.

The formula is simple: If you’re a Jew, you will be linked to Israel.

WE chareidi Jews also have our questions, doubts, and strong differences with the State currently ruling our homeland. We rue the desire to be a nation like all the others, which animated Israel’s founders and continues to shape so much of its character. And we mourn the intentional distancing of Hashem and His Torah that characterizes much of its legal, judicial, and cultural ethos.

In our hierarchy of religious priorities, yishuv Eretz Yisrael does not occupy the top slot. The three-pronged relationship between Yisrael, Oraysa, and the Kudsha Brich Hu is the crux of our identity, and “living in Israel” can never supersede or substitute for the primacy of obeying Hashem and observance of His Torah. In fact, a panoramic view of our history may well show that the periods of greatest fealty to Hashem’s will took place when we were not sovereigns of our own land.

This may partially explain why much of chareidi Jewry today does not live in Eretz Yisrael. Some hold it’s dangerous and forbidden to establish a Jewish sovereign state before Mashiach’s arrival, and therefore refuse to take part in or lend any overt support to this enterprise. Others have chosen to daven for the return of the Shechinah to Zion from afar, residing in locations with strong spiritual infrastructures that support limud Torah, shemiras hamitzvos, and quality chinuch.

Still, as believing Jews we agree on two things. No matter how vociferously we disapprove of the secular State, we hope and pray for the safety of the Jews who live under its sovereignty. Whatever their politics and perspective, they are Jews, they are at risk, and we care about them.

And no matter where our spiritual priorities direct us to live, we view Eretz Yisrael as our nation’s homeland. It’s the place where our relationship with Hashem and our observance of His mitzvos take on a sharper, clearer tenor. Everything a Jew does there is automatically bolded and underlined. The very air is more conducive to Torah learning, the produce is literally seeded with opportunities for mitzvos, the soil craves its own Shabbos every seven years.

Conversely, the land is so spiritually sensitive that it vomits out transgression. Its laws of nature — rain, wind, weather patterns — work in concert with our spiritual level. Hashem’s presence is more palpable there, and His interaction with His people less filtered. It’s the natural habitat of that species called “Jew.”

These are things we know and feel deep inside. We daven every day for the return to Zion. We send our children to yeshivos thousands of miles away, so they can breathe the hallowed air that imparts wisdom. We bury our dead in its soil — and if we cannot arrange for that, we bring some of that soil to our local graveyards.

But in some ways, we’ve gotten into the habit of leaving the connection there in our siddurim, in our nostalgic memories of seminary or yeshivah, or on our mental maps of holy places to visit, or as the mandatory closing for every sheva brachos speech. We weren’t often forced to grapple with how — and how much — that small strip of land shapes our identity.

Now, as the world jumps to brand us with that Zionist label many of us wouldn’t instinctively choose, it’s getting harder to avoid the cosmic link between our people and their land. Wherever we live, wherever we are situated politically, and whatever our views of the burgeoning civilization of Jews living in that small tract in the Middle East, some outside Hand seems to be drawing a big, bold “equal” sign between the word Jew and this disputed country.

As we daven for the day when our detractors fall away and our birthright is no longer contested, how can we make ourselves more deserving of the place where we can actualize our essence? Because whether we like it or not, realize it or not, approve of it or not, as Jews, we are linked to this land.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1042)

The post Linked first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

Photos: Elchanan Kotler, Personal archives

Rabbi Shmuel Zucker had been teaching in yeshivos for over three decades, introducing his students to a world most of them didn’t know existed — the endless layers of depth inherent in every aspect of Yiddishkeit and accessible to anyone with a spiritual thirst — when talmidim realized it was time to open their own kehillah, a place where the neshamah feels at home even as it’s pulled back into the mundane world

“We should be zocheh that the Kehilla Kedosha should always remain me’uchad — united — together. How much nachas ruach… and how much taanug the Ribbono shel Olam has from the achdus of the kehillah and the bikush Hashem from the kehillah…

We should be zocheh to grow together —

ish es re’ehu ya’azoru

ul’achiv yomar chazak! ”

These were the supplications offered by Rav Shmuel Zucker, rav of Ramat Eshkol’s Kehilla Kedosha Beis Shlomo, as he stood at the entrance to the kever of the Baal Shem Tov in Mezhibuzh, Ukraine, five years ago.

A group of men hung back as their rav stood in fervent, tearful prayer, trembling at the very notion of entering the burial place of such a lofty tzaddik.

The thick blanket of awe was a jarring contrast to the mood that had prevailed just minutes earlier. As their bus rumbled through rural roads toward their destination, the travelers had burst into exuberant dancing and spirited singing, overcome by the joy of the moment.

And now there was fear. Reverence. Trepidation.

From dancing to trembling, from joy to fear — in the world of Rabbi Zucker, these pose no contradiction.

For decades, it has been his life’s mission to teach how one can dwell in the Heavens while rejoicing on Earth.

Deeply passionate about chassidus — both its lessons and their practical application — he maintains that the Baal Shem Tov brought this ability to the masses.

“V’hachayos ratzo vashov,” says the pasuk in Sefer Yechezkel, “and the chayos (celestial beings) ran and returned.” The Baal Shem Tov explains that this describes the struggle of the soul. On the one hand, it wishes to escape the clutches of physicality and soar unhindered through the world from which it came.

But on the other hand, this is not its mission. Hashem desires the melding of body with soul and thus chained the Divine spark to a sublunary base. The soul struggles mightily to break free; it reaches up — ratzo — but then, it must be brought back down: vashov.

A Yid must master the art of shuttling between Heaven and Earth.

But difficult as it is, the soul needn’t be despondent. For here, in our terrestrial reality, it has the gift of camaraderie.

It can bond with fellow souls, each offering the other chizuk.

Ul’achiv yomar chazak.

And this, too, is what Rabbi Zucker preaches. Let the soul rise, let the soul return.

But let it always know that it has a best friend ready at any moment to give it strength and encouragement.

Ul’achiv yomar chazak.

The post Home Away from Heaven    first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

R

av Mordechai Gifter ztz”l once invited a younger student into his office. The bochur was worried about what he may have done wrong and figured that the Rosh Yeshivah might have learned of his interest in Chabad chassidus and disapproved. Rav Gifter invited him to sit down, placed two shot glasses on his desk, and poured them both l’chayims.

“Today is the 19th of Kislev, a significant day for chassidim,” said the Rosh Yeshivah. “I mark this day in appreciation of my first rebbi, Rav Eliyahu Axelrod, a Chabad chassid, and my next rebbi, Rav Forshlager, also a chassid. Let’s make a l’chayim together.”

Unlike Rav Gifter, I have never celebrated Yat Kislev, but this year, I accepted an invitation to speak at a celebration of what chassidim refer to as the “Rosh Hashanah of chassidus,” commemorating the day in 1798 that the Alter Rebbe, Rav Shneur Zalman of Liadi, was released from a Russian prison. Being unfamiliar with the nuances of this holiday, I pulled out two seforim, one that chronicled the events surrounding the Alter Rebbe’s imprisonment and release through original letters and documents, and the other a compendium of the Yat Kislev addresses of the last Rebbe ztz”l. Astoundingly, the two sources hardly overlapped.

The historic chronicle told the story of a tragic anniversary, one that emerged from the enormously bitter dispute between chassidim and misnagdim that led to the accusations made to the czarist government against the Alter Rebbe and that ultimately resulted in his arrest and imprisonment. The dispute was rooted in sincerely held principles of halachah, hashkafah, and appropriate behavior, and it deeply divided the Jewish community, creating rifts even within families.

The Yat Kislev compendium told the completely different story of the celebration of a new beginning for mankind, the day a previously hidden font of Torah understanding, the Torah of chassidus, was released to fill the world. In this account, there were no bitter rivalries between Jews, no human misnagdim. The antagonism that led to the Rebbe’s imprisonment came instead from forces in the heavens that questioned the world’s readiness for this precious aspect of Torah learning. The imprisonment was a divinely sent “hold” on the Alter Rebbe’s trailblazing mission of sharing his uniquely intellectual and logical presentation of the hidden Torah, while his acquittal by the czarist court was indicative of the heavenly decision that the world was indeed ready for the Alter Rebbe’s Torah wisdom and truly needed to drink from its wellsprings.

The events and their different interpretations are reminiscent of the first time a Jew was imprisoned following a bitter and principled dispute with other Jews, the story of Yosef and his brothers. There too one could see the event on its face in all its tragic bitterness, focusing on what the brothers did to Yosef; or one could see it as Yosef did, that his imprisonment and sale into slavery was not their doing but rather the miraculous and redemptive extension of Hashem’s hand positioning Yosef to provide for the Jewish People. Yosef was utterly free of resentment toward his brothers due to his choice to live with emunah sheleimah, a true and full faith in Hashem that shaped his view of everything he experienced.

There is an additional component to the Rebbe’s approach, one that goes beyond his emunah and that is sourced in the historical chronicle of letters and that is also reminiscent of Yosef: the Alter Rebbe’s fierce commitment to ahavas Yisrael, which he taught and modeled and which he knew would be jeopardized by allowing the continuation of this dispute.

Upon his release, the Alter Rebbe wrote a letter to his followers in which he encouraged them to fully love all Jews, including those from outside their circle of fellow chassidim. He repeated earlier warnings against anyone casting aspersions on his chief opponent, the Gaon of Vilna, with absolutely no exceptions. It was clear to him that the accusations to the government that led to his imprisonment did not emanate from the Gaon, nor would they have occurred during his lifetime (the Gaon had passed away a year earlier.)

This more I seek and ask of you, to accustom your hearts to love your fellow Jews, including those beyond our group, and to give them the benefit of the doubt, as in truth, all Jews are literally brothers and regarding all of them it says, “You are children of Hashem your G-d.” Whatever their behavior, they are called His sons.

Undoubtedly when they bear resentment toward each other in their hearts, it is a source of disappointment and sadness to their Father in Heaven. Those who remove resentment from their hearts will find that others respond in kind, and G-d will produce in the hearts of all Jews peace, brotherhood, and friendship so that every person can find their place in peace.

The story behind Yat Kislev, the bitter dispute that turns brother against brother, is a painfully familiar one and continues to repeat itself until this day. What is far less familiar and recurrent is the Alter Rebbe’s insistent refusal to live within the confines of the dispute or to allow the dispute to live within him.

We would do well to tap into this remarkable legacy of Chabad, their faith in Hashem’s guiding hand, their unconditional commitment to leave no room for resentment of others in their hearts, and their love for every one of our fellow Jews.

Rabbi Moshe Hauer serves as executive vice president of the Orthodox Union (OU). 

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1042)

The post The World Is Ready   first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

Coordinated by Rachel Bachrach

It’s eight days of light, pushing away the darkness of the long, bleak winter — and the winter of our lives as well. But while the radiance may seem brief, those eight days of Chanukah rise above nature, their holy illumination guiding and inspiring through the daunting cold. And like the menorah’s glow, sometimes there’s a person who crossed our path, even for a short time, and spread light in our lives that continues to shine. Eight accounts

Taking the Leap

Barbara Bensoussan

Recently we had a Shabbos guest, a single woman of about 35. She told me she had been long-distance dating someone who lived in Europe, and she was on the fence about it. Their backgrounds were different, and if they married, she might need to move across the ocean.

“But he’s the only guy I’ve dated in years who seems normal,” she avowed. “He’s the only person I’ve met in a while where I see potential.”

When she said that, words I’d heard almost 40 years ago came back to me immediately.

“You know,” I said, “A very wise woman once told me, ‘Whatever you do, have children. You’ll never regret it, no matter how the marriage turns out.’”

I

spent the summer of 1984 at Neve Yerushalayim’s heavily subsidized female out reach education program. I was in my mid-twenties and a skeptic, and I didn’t feel much in common with the starry-eyed 18- and 19-year-old students. Instead, I gravitated to more sophisticated women who were closer in age to me. One was much older, a divorced mother of teenagers who had taken an apartment for her family so she could attend classes that summer. Her name was Sarah Schyfter, she had grown up in Costa Rica, and she worked as a professor of Spanish literature at SUNY Albany. I was also in academia, teaching undergrads and most of the way through a Ph.D. program in psychology, so we bonded. I instantly warmed to her astute intelligence, regal manner, and balanced perspective on academia and the religious world.

Sometimes we’d talk about handling mitzvah observance in a university setting. I remember asking, “You teach in Albany — it’s really cold there! How do you get by wearing skirts?”

She shrugged.

“I wear long, warm skirts, tights, and boots,” she said nonchalantly. “It’s not really a problem.”

She told me she regretted never having learned Hebrew beyond the basic Hebrew of her siddur.

Shortly before the Neve program ended, I met my husband-to-be, but I wasn’t sure it was a realistic shidduch. He lived in Europe and came from a completely different background, and I didn’t know if it could develop into something serious —and marriage might mean moving across the ocean.

I visited Sarah that week to say goodbye before returning to the US. Her two sons, dressed like yeshivah bochurim, were flitting in and out of the room, taking care of this and that as we schmoozed.  I mentioned the man I was dating, and she gazed fondly at her boys before turning to me.

“Whatever you do, have children,” she said. “You’ll never regret it, no matter how the marriage turns out.”

We lost contact after that, but her words would come back to me as my unlikely shidduch progressed. By then I was 27 and hadn’t found any American men who seemed right, so I decided to take the plunge. It was a risk that brought dividends in spades: More than 35 years later, we’re still married with wonderful children, baruch Hashem.

A

bout 20 years later, perhaps around 2005, my husband and I were walking through Ditmas Park when we ran into a frum woman standing outside on a porch, and started talking with her. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why, but we did discover that her daughter was my daughter’s teacher. Later it hit me that this lady might actually be my old friend, so I asked my daughter’s teacher if her mother was by any chance Sarah Schyfter.

“She is!” she responded. “But she’s not Sarah Schyfter anymore. She got remarried to Rav Shlomo Freifeld, and she lives in Far Rockaway.”

Wow! My friend had become Torah royalty, a well-deserved honor for a woman of her caliber. I procured her number, and we spoke a few times after that by phone. It was always such a pleasure, and I got small glimpses of Rav Freifeld’s gadlus through our conversations: how he insisted that she continue to teach at SUNY Albany, how he enjoyed many types of music, how he kept copies of architectural magazines in the bathroom because he appreciated beautiful things.

I wish we could have stayed in touch more closely, but I was a busy mommy and she was a busy rebbetzin, and then Rav Freifeld became ill. But our brief encounters left a deep impression. And four decades after our initial encounter, I found myself repeating her advice to a woman who, like me at the time, needed a little encouragement to jump into a promising but uncertain future.

Barbara Bensoussan is a longtime contributor to Mishpacha and an author of books for adults and children.

The post Flashes of Light first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

IN fourth grade, Genie Milgrom was brought to the priest in charge of her Catholic school. She’d asked too many questions, had challenged too many of the inconsistencies in her education, and the nuns felt she needed guidance. “You should pray for faith and enlightenment, or you will fall off the path of the righteous,” the priest told her.

Genie learned to keep her doubts private. If she was fascinated by the Jewish people she met, she didn’t share it with her Cuban-American family.

Even as an adult, married with two children, Genie still felt an intense connection to Judaism. She lived in Miami, in a Jewish, though not religious, area. As she began to explore this connection and learn everything she could about Judaism, she found herself at odds with her husband. Eventually, they divorced, and one of their agreements was that if she chose to take her fascination with Judaism further, she wouldn’t try to convert their children.

With renewed determination, Genie found a Reconstructionist synagogue and began to learn about what it meant to be a Jew. “Then came Rosh Hashanah,” Genie told Family First. “The speaker was great. And then we get to the meal, and it was shrimp.” She knew enough about Judaism to knew that shrimp was definitely not kosher.

Genie was bewildered. Was she drawn to a religion that didn’t exist anymore? Was the Judaism that she’d studied a thing of the past?

One day, she walked into a tiny Orthodox shul, an old house with red tile on the floor. It felt like home. She told the rabbi she wanted to become Jewish.

It wasn’t easy. The beis din was wary of this woman whose children couldn’t convert. For more than half a decade, Genie struggled through the process. “They had me memorize the Kitzur Shulchan Aruch. I mean, read, write, memorize Hebrew, the laws of Shabbos, and all the kashrut laws. They really put me through a very hard time. But I persisted.”

Her family wasn’t happy. Her children struggled to understand the changes happening in their mother’s home. Her father didn’t want the trouble it would bring to the family. Her mother was resistant, and her grandmother told her, “Mariti, what you’re doing is very dangerous.”

Genie was on her own.

She converted and remarried, this time to a Jewish man, Michael, and began to build a new life, separate but still connected to her family.

And then, one Friday, she got the news: Her grandmother had passed away, and she would be buried immediately, as per the family custom. It was an unusual custom for Cuban Catholics, and it meant that Genie would miss the funeral on Shabbos. She was heartbroken.

The next day, after the funeral, Genie’s family arrived at her home, all dressed in black. Genie’s mother had brought something for her: a box that Genie’s grandmother had wanted Genie to have on the day she died.

Genie opened the tattered white box to find a tarnished hamsa and a small gold earring with a Magen David in the center. There was no note, no explanation. Only two Jewish objects, passed down from her Catholic grandmother to her.

Memories came to Genie, little oddities from her childhood: an antique Spanish shawl, pinned over hers and her groom’s shoulders at their wedding. Her grandmother breaking eggs into a glass to check them for blood before using them. Scrubbing porous vegetables to clean them of insects. Baking bread with her grandmother, wrapping a small bit of dough in foil and tossing it into the back of the oven “for good luck.” Sweeping toward the center of the room (an old crypto-Jewish custom to respect the place where the mezuzah used to be).

A lifetime of subtle Jewish customs, revealed all at once.

Mariti, what you’re doing is very dangerous.

The post I Needed to Come Home     first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

Public curiosity over the exponential rise in unexplained drone sightings has been overtaken by anger at the federal government’s disinterest in explaining the phenomenon and its seeming discrediting of hundreds of eyewitness accounts.

New Jersey held the highest number of credible sightings, including several near two military bases and President-elect Donald Trump’s Bedminster home.

Yet even as drones with wingspans up to eight feet wide were sighted by law enforcement officials, Washington brushed them off, saying they had no evidence of “nefarious” activity.

Sheriff Michael Mastronardy of Ocean County, New Jersey (which includes the Lakewood area), received reports from officers under his command about drones and sent some of his department’s own unmanned aircraft to track them. But as they approached, the drones went dark and could no longer be followed.

In one highly publicized incident, a police officer on Ocean County’s Long Beach Island spotted some 50 drones flying in from over the water.

Sheriff Mastronardy came to the scene and reported the sighting to the FBI, who joined him on Long Beach Island and dispatched a Coast Guard boat. Crew members of that boat later told the sheriff that it had been followed by a dozen or so large drones.

White House national security spokesman John Kirby told media the aircraft the Coast Guard had observed were actually planes headed for Kennedy Airport.

“You can’t tell us we’re seeing things when we give you documentation,” Sheriff Mastronardy said. “ ’Everything’s okay, but we don’t know what it is.’ What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

Federal officials dismissed concern by citing the more than one million licensed drones in the county, and pointing out that flying drones is legal in most areas. Officials claimed the recent frenzy was merely recognition of an ongoing reality.

Daniel Gerstein, a former undersecretary in the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) during the Obama administration and currently a researcher at the Rand think tank, agreed that drone sightings were being reported out of context.

“It’s probably a mix of things going on — small, unmanned aircraft, small manned aircraft being mistaken for drones, and a lot of misinformation being amplified on social media,” he said.

Theories on what was behind them ranged from reconnaissance by a foreign adversary to alien visitors. Government inaction reminded many of the Chinese observation ballon that hovered over the United States for weeks last year.

Sherriff Mastronardy’s best guess was that the drones were the result of a project by the government itself, compounding frustration over the federal response.

“All they have to do is say, ‘Yes, we’re doing a study,’ and that would kill speculation,” he said. “When you’re not straight with people, they make up their own information.”

A silver lining many see in the drone mystery is a wake-up call that the proliferation of unmanned aircraft is outpacing existing laws, and that state and local agencies need more authority to deal with them.

Yet as government officials kept up lines like DHS Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas’s telling CNN, “We haven’t seen anything unusual,” more people felt federal officials remained irritatingly deaf to the institutional distrust they continued to feed.

“Government hasn’t been forthcoming or responsive,” said Dr. Gerstein. “That just creates a vacuum that gets filled with a lot of nonsense.”

Musk Flexes His Muscles

Political observers are used to the drama of funding showdowns in which Congress bickers down to zero hour, usually emerging with a late-night compromise package containing whopping sums for pet projects. Every few years a shutdown actually occurs, leaving a stench on the majority party.

House Speaker Mike Johnson spent weeks ironing out a bipartisan compromise only for it to be sunk by tech mogul turned co-head of the unofficial Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), Elon Musk.

“Stop the steal of your tax dollars!” he wrote. Another post read, “Unless @DOGE ends the careers of deceitful, pork-barrel politicians, the waste and corruption will never stop.”

The bill faced uncertain prospects, with many Republicans hesitant to back another unwieldy spending package. Mr. Musk’s calls were seconded by President-elect Donald Trump, and the bill was torpedoed.

Within 24 hours, House Republicans had a pared-down bill ready to go, complete with Mr. Trump’s approval. The bill must still be passed by the Senate, but many were left thinking Mr. Musk’s takedown was just untraditional political orchestration.

Not Your Grandfather’s Strike

The Teamsters Union initiated what it claimed was the largest strike against Amazon, ever with 10,000 drivers joining picket lines.

“If your package is delayed during the holidays, you can blame Amazon’s insatiable greed,” said Teamsters general president Sean O’Brien in a statement.

A company spokeswoman said the strike would not affect fulfillment services, and that very few drivers are represented by the Teamsters.

Amazon employees have complained of poor wages and conditions for years. Recently, Amazon announced it would invest $2 billion into driver salaries, which was expected to translate into a 7% pay raise. Yet a contract was never negotiated.

Senator Bernie Sanders (I-VT) wrote a social post supporting the strike and castigating Amazon’s owner, Jeff Bezos, for his labor practices and for recently dining with President-elect Donald Trump.

Despite the Vermont socialist’s packaging, the strike is not like the labor disputes of yore that neatly divided the political left and right.

Mr. O’Brien, the Teamsters’ leader, became an ally of President-elect Donald Trump and addressed this year’s Republican Convention.

Further blurring the lines, and giving Mr. Trump a foot in opposing courts, Amazon owner Mr. Bezos, once seen as emblematic of Silicon Valley’s progressive power base, infuriated many on the left by blocking the Washington Post, which he owns, from endorsing a presidential candidate.

100,000

The discovery of several mass graves around Damascus left little doubt that Bashar al-Assad’s tyrannical regime tortured and murdered over 100,000 people.

“We really haven’t seen anything quite like this since the Nazis,” Stephan Rapp, an international prosecutor, told Reuters. “We are talking about a system of state terror that became a machinery of death.”

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1042)

The post It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane… It’s a Drone      first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

A Wonderful Epilogue [Beacon of Light / Issue 922]

Your article about Rebbetzin Batya Barg a”h has a wonderful epilogue that I’d like to share with you.

On Erev Shabbos last week I received a call from a cousin of mine, Michal Katz, from Yerushalayim. Although it was just minutes to Shabbos for her, she called me with a special opportunity. She told me that there was a choshuve rebbetzin who passed away earlier that week who had never had any children. She told us that Basya bas Yehuda Leib was special, that during her entire childhood in the USSR she had been moser nefesh for Shabbos and that she’d helped many underprivileged children in Eretz Yisrael, was a kallah teacher, and gave shiurim. Michal told me that at the rebbetzin’s levayah, her nephew spoke and said that his aunt had said that if anyone wanted to do anything for her, they should learn the halachos of shemiras halashon, accept upon themselves to keep those halachos for at least an hour a day, and say one kapitel of Tehillim for her each day.

Since I was approaching my due date, I lit a candle l’ilui nishmasa and davened for an easy labor and delivery. At our Shabbos seudah, we took upon ourselves to be careful with shemiras halashon for the two hours of the seudah. Baruch Hashem, a few hours later, early Shabbos morning, our princess was born, healthy and beautiful. We were debating between a few names, but nothing felt right.

As we were speaking, the idea came up to name our baby Basya. It all clicked. We’d been zocheh to the miracle of a healthy baby and felt that we had an opportunity to name our daughter — who was born on the Shabbos of shivah of a woman who didn’t have any children or family members to sit shivah for her — after such an illustrious woman.

Hashem works in wondrous ways. Although Rebbetzin Batya Barg a”h didn’t have any children, a baby girl across the world was named for her a week after she passed away. May our daughter b’ezras Hashem follow in her footsteps and be a daughter of Hashem, spreading kindness, love, and chesed to others.

Tzeenie Ely

Baltimore, MD

Spray It On [Halachah / Issue 922]

I’m writing about the halachic question about having a non-Jew put diaper cream on a baby on Shabbos.

My mother actually discovered a great product on Amazon that solves this issue. It’s a diaper rash spray (with the consistency of regular diaper rash cream) that works phenomenally! We actually use it during the week as well because of its ease of use and no mess/dirty fingers.

I would highly recommend this product: Diaper Rash Spray by Boogie, travel-friendly no-rub touch- free application for sensitive skin.

Penina Lefton

Ramat Beit Shemesh

They Suffer Silently [Out of Focus / Issue 921]

I’d like to thank Rochie Bloomberg for her well-written and informative serial, Out of Focus, which I read with great interest and appreciation. I’m an ADHD coach for women, and the struggles, challenges, and successes that were described by Rochie and the women who shared their stories in the follow-up piece parallel what many women with ADHD experience.

As referenced in the serial, women with ADHD are often undiagnosed or diagnosed later in life because they tend to present with inattentive ADHD. Their symptoms can be more subtle and internal and less noticeable. They’re often dreamy, easily distracted, and forgetful. In contrast, hyperactive ADHD causes more external symptoms, such as fidgeting, restlessness, and impulsivity. (ADHD can also present as combined inattentive-hyperactive.)

Many women with ADHD suffer silently and feel overwhelmed with thoughts and emotions and tend to feel “stuck.” They may also struggle with anxiety and/or depression.

The main area of the brain affected by ADHD is the prefrontal cortex, which controls executive functioning. Executive function includes skills such as the ability to plan, prioritize, organize, retain information, show self-restraint, manage time, regulate emotions, problem-solve, focus, and make decisions. Women with ADHD may experience a wide range in the type and severity of symptoms.

Understanding executive functions and how the ADHD brain is neurologically wired and affects behavior is an important factor to consider. This self-awareness gives women more clarity as to why things may be more difficult for them. Women with ADHD aren’t flawed, but rather have a unique brain that works differently (a reason… not an excuse).

This can potentially impact all areas of life, and as the demands of life and household responsibilities increase, it can become even more challenging.

Women also tend to compare themselves to others who seemingly have it “together,” which can negatively impact self-esteem. Learned helplessness and perfectionism may also develop after years of struggling.

It’s important to highlight the incredible creativity and strengths of these amazing women. They are smart, empathetic, intuitive, and talented and can accomplish the impossible. Each small success is a victory and should be acknowledged and celebrated.

Treatment for women with ADHD involves a multifaceted approach that can include medication, therapy, coaching, and lifestyle changes. Proper nutrition, exercise, adequate sleep, and a structured routine can help manage symptoms.

ADHD coaching can help women with ADHD in many ways. It’s a collaborative, supportive, goal-oriented process in which the coach and client work together to identify goals and develop the strategies, skills, and techniques necessary to move forward in achieving those goals. Target goals are broken down into manageable steps as new habits are formed.

ADHD can be a superpower, and learning how to turn the challenges of it into strengths can be life-changing. Focusing on accomplishments and highlighting success fosters the motivation and drive to keep going. With self-awareness and resilience, women can feel empowered to succeed and move toward leading a more balanced and fulfilling life, reaching their full potential.

C. Scharf

CPC-AAPC

ADHD coach

To Reach Out to Him [Triple Say / Issue 921]

I’d like to add a point to the article discussing worrying versus emunah. In parshas Vayishlach, we find Yaakov Avinu “worried,” as he’s about to meet his brother, Eisav. Rav Avigdor Miller ztz”l asks, “Why was Yaakov afraid? Didn’t he have enough emunah?” Rav Miller answers, “Hashem created natural human emotions, such as fear, for us to use them properly and reach out to Him. As we see that Yaakov did; he davened to Hashem.”

S. W.

Yerushalayim

The One and Only Parenting Rule [Family Connections / Issue 921]

I’m responding to Sarah Chana Radcliffe’s words to a mother feeling guilty that her adult children suffered from her decision to stay in a difficult marriage. I wanted to say that if there is a single rule that always applies, this is it: Control is an illusion. We’re not in control. Everything else, as they say, is commentary. Life is about learning this rule over and over and over again. It’s very powerful to see it specifically in the context of parenting, even though it spills over in all of life’s circumstances.

It’s important to know the difference between caring for a child and being responsible for a child. We’re responsible to care for our children, we’re not responsible for them. Care is only a burden when we think we’re responsible for the results. We’re not. Hashem gives us a child and relies on us to care for the child to the very utmost. We must do for the child whatever the child isn’t capable of doing for themselves. The result, however, isn’t our responsibility. The only thing left to do is trust the child to rise to the challenge. Ultimately, it’s on the child.

It works like an inverted curve. The more the parent carries the responsibility, the less the child will. The less the parent carries the responsibility, the more the child will.

Caring without carrying the burden is valid for every age and stage of a child’s life. The care we give children will differ but the principle will remain the same.

A good way to help your child is to remember that you’re helping your child help themselves.

Meir is a young bochur who struggles to get up in the morning on time. His mother can offer alarm clocks and incentives. Of course she should empathize with the challenge. She can even allow him to feel the consequences of his actions, hoping it’ll teach him a lesson. But most importantly, she must not feel the burden. She should drop the responsibility completely. She’s not the one who needs to wake up; Meir needs to. She must trust that Meir can step up to the task.

Bracha gets very angry very quickly. There’s always drama around her, specifically with her siblings. Mommy is frustrated and very worried about this part of her personality. Mommy is also sorry for Chaya, the younger sister. “Poor kid. She did nothing to deserve that,” she thinks to herself. It all seems so unfair. There’s a lot that Mommy can do for both Bracha and Chaya. First, and most important, she must drop the responsibility. She must trust in both Bracha and Chaya. If still necessary, she can teach or explain or offer rewards or consequences. She can explore options in holistic or traditional intervention. But most significantly, she should trust, and relinquish control.

This applies even to a baby who’s crying. After the baby is fed, clean, comfy, rocked, etc., and the mother knows there’s nothing else the baby needs, then this is where the control/burden comes in. The mother can only offer her love and trust that her baby will quiet down.

Name Withheld

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 924)

The post Family First Inbox: Issue 924 first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

IN Israel’s multifront war on Iranian proxies, its near-total dismantling of Hamas and its pummeling of Hezbollah into seeking a ceasefire have left the Houthis of Yemen as the last terror group able to mount attacks. Despite airstrikes by Israel, the United States, and other allies on Yemen, the Houthis remain a harrowing menace. To better understand the Houthis’ true power and the IDF’s options for neutralizing them, Mishpacha spoke with Ilan Zalayat of the Institute for National Security Studies.

Wild Fanatics

The Houthis are Zaydists, a branch of Shia Islam that believes Muslim actions can accelerate what they view as the final redemption. The Houthis see the 1979 Iranian Revolution as their guiding model, interpreting every Islamic achievement as bringing the end times a step closer. In their view, the events of October 7 represented a divine success for the Muslim world, making participation in the war against Israel a matter of religious and ideological imperative.

Eager Foes

The Houthis control only one-third of Yemen’s territory, but around 70 percent of the population. Their strategy hinges on bolstering their legitimacy in the eyes of their people. They label Israel as their clear enemy — a sentiment shared by many Yemenis. Every Israeli strike on Yemen only solidifies the Houthis’ legitimacy among their supporters.

The Weak Spot?

The port of Hodeidah is the Houthis’ gateway for food, humanitarian aid, and, crucially, weaponry. Anyone wanting to crush Houthi power would need to neutralize this port.

So why hasn’t it been done? Simple: the resulting humanitarian catastrophe would draw an international outcry. Israel, in particular, cannot afford further diplomatic black eyes.

Moreover, the Houthis have repeatedly shown that they are willing to let their population suffer in defense of their cause. During past conflicts with Saudi Arabia, hundreds of thousands of Yemenis starved when food supplies were blocked, yet the Houthis retained their grip on power.

How Quickly Could the IDF Defeat Them?

This is a difficult question to answer. Saudi Arabia has been fighting the Houthis since 2015. Despite overwhelming military superiority, the Saudis have failed to subdue them. Northern Yemen’s mountainous terrain allows the Houthis to hide in caves and tunnels, making them exceedingly difficult to target. Israel lacks precise intelligence on Yemen comparable to that of Gaza or Lebanon. This makes the Houthis a far more complex enemy.

Sullen Sidekicks

Iran views the Houthis as its proxy, but the Houthis don’t see it that way. While the Houthis rely on Iranian funding and weaponry, they wield a surprising degree of independence in decision-making. They view their leader, Abdul Malik Al-Houthi, as Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei’s equal. This nationalist pride sets them apart, but it doesn’t change the reality that Iran calls the shots.

Punching Above Their Weight

Since Israel isn’t fighting the Houthis face-to-face, the size of their force is less of a concern than their ballistic capabilities. In that regard, they are more powerful than Hamas and less so than Hezbollah. Still, underestimating them would be a mistake. They’ve conducted successful missile and drone strikes, launched from over 2,000 kilometers away and occasionally evading Israel’s Iron Dome defense system.

Red Sea Pirates

For nearly a year, the Houthis have been disrupting maritime trade routes. Their control of the Bab el-Mandeb Strait, through which over 17,000 cargo ships pass annually, has reshaped international commerce. Many shipping companies now prefer the costly detour around Africa over the risky passage through the strait. Interestingly, Russian ships seem to be an exception, granted safe passage by the Houthis. With the potential return of Donald Trump to the White House, a more aggressive US policy in the region could alter this dynamic.

“While other Iranian-backed militias remain active in Iraq, the geopolitical reality has proven that Iran’s presumed final card against Israel, Hezbollah, has taken a back seat. Today, it is the Houthis who pose the most significant threat.”

—Ilan Zalayat

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1042)

The post The Houthis: Iran’s Last Card  first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

Imagine an organized world. A world where shoes are tucked neatly in bedroom closets, where crackers are stacked in canisters that never topple, where hats and jackets are placed on hooks in order of size.

Ahhh... if only our homes looked and functioned like this. If only our families allowed this fantasy to become our reality. We would feel such joy.

Would we, though? What brings us real joy? I’d venture to guess that it’s not a home that maintains itself. Deep down, what we each want is a warm place where our families thrive and our individual dreams can be realized.

After organizing hundreds of homes, I’ve learned that no two clients are the same. Each woman and family have habits and lifestyles and needs and dreams to take into consideration when setting up customized systems. I take their needs into consideration primarily to make it easier for them to maintain what we’ve organized, containerized, and labeled.

Yet I’ve found it goes deeper. I’ve seen the validation in my clients’ eyes when I ask them where they prefer to keep the Play-Doh. I’ve heard the relief in their voice when we place a decorative basket in the foyer for shoes. There’s pure joy when we attach a Command hook to the closet door for the morning “thrown on for the bus stop” clothing.

The key is to appreciate the way that the client has been running her home until now. I’m not here to upend everything that she’s already created. I’m here to streamline it and make it easier for her to function within that space. Ultimately, the home will continue to be an expression of her.

Let’s look at a few areas and the variety of ways they can be systemized. Your job, dear reader, is to discern what can work for your home.

The Candy Corner

Candy displayed in matching jars and baskets invites adults and children alike to partake of the sticky goodness.

Nosh stored on a low shelf in the pantry so little tots aren’t tempted to climb or schlep stools to reach the goodies from a high shelf and because hey, maybe if they see it all the time, they won’t want it as much....

Pantry Perfection

Uniform canisters look stunning, snacks stay super fresh, and maintenance is a breeze because you truly enjoy lining up cookies in alternating concentric circles.

Decorative baskets to contain broad categories such as snacks, crackers, cereal, and nosh. Hides the disarray of mismatched boxes of cereal but since the turnaround of food in your house is just too quick, this works for you!

Toy Turbulence

Magna-Tiles lined up by shape AND by color, placed in acrylic bins, because you have the time, patience, ability, and desire to have a magnificently maintained playroom.

A toy container large enough to accommodate rows and rows of attached Clics because breaking them apart as your kids clean up isn’t on the agenda.

Have a separate Lego and Playmobil room with a door that is kept closed. At all times. No excuses.

Clothing Quandary

Stacked containers in the attic clearly labeled with clothing for the next boy or girl to be born in the family, nieces and nephews included, varying from preemie size to extra shayne coats.

Whatever can potentially fit your children within the next year stored on top of the bedroom closet, labeled “Next Season.”

Stored clothing? You don’t have any. You donate it all at the end of the season.

Stocked Up

The heavy-duty shelving in the garage is stocked to capacity with dry goods and the Costco closet off the kitchen has enough food to feed your family and multitude of guests for the next four months.

Instacart, Prime Now, and the grocery down the block are your extended pantry. You either don’t have the space to stock up or prefer to live the “less is more” lifestyle.

You store just enough to fill the upper shelves on the kitchen cabinets and have a spare shampoo or two because you DO go to the grocery every week and since Covid, there’s been no shortage of staples!

Your home is your castle — it’s a unique expression of your individuality. Accept yourself for who you are and set up your spaces with your unique interests in mind, taking your strengths and weaknesses into consideration. No two homes are the same. Let the judgment fade away and experience joy in your home.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 924)

The post All in Order: Simplified Joy  first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

Last week, Klal Yisrael, and Daf Yomi participants and their families in particular, celebrated the completion of Maseches Bava Basra, the largest masechta in Shas. Siyumim, from fancy to folksy, were held the Jewish world over to mark the momentous accomplishment.

In the Minneapolis Community Kollel, Rav Chaim S. Gibber, the rosh kollel, walked up to the shtender in front of the beis medrash and — with night seder in full swing — did the “unthinkable:” He interrupted a full beis medrash of people learning to publicly wish mazel tov to a dozen or so community members who had just completed the masechta. By way of explanation, Rav Gibber shared a vignette from his days at Yeshivas Ner Yisroel. He recalled that his own rosh yeshivah, Rav Yaakov Yitzchok Ruderman ztz”l, had once halted the yeshivah’s learning seder to honor a group of Iranian refugees who completed a masechta of Gemara, marking their siyum with a celebration in the beis medrash.

Why Rav Ruderman halted a night seder for a siyum begged an explanation, and Rav Gibber offered one: “The honor of Torah must precede the learning of Torah,” he explained. The room erupted in joy and dancing for a brief moment, and then the mesaymim continued the celebration at a local restaurant, while the others returned to their learning, having gained new insight into the honor due Torah and those who study it.

Happening in... Cincinnati

This past week saw a significant milestone achieved in Cincinnati Children’s Hospital, which will offer relief to dozens of Jewish families.

Rabbi Yisroel Kaufman, MSW, is the chaplain at Cincinnati Children’s, which serves as an international destination for families whose children are in need of medical intervention. He also oversees the frum community’s bikur cholim organization, and acts as a medical advocate and liaison, spending sleepless nights working on behalf of frum patients from all over the world.

Over the years, Rabbi Kaufman has made great strides in educating the very accommodating staff at Cincinnati Children’s on the various laws, customs, and cultural nuances inherent in the Orthodox way of life. Now, after many years of cultivating the staff’s trust and understanding, he has finally been able to see a long-standing dream come true. The hospital now features a fully kosher bikur cholim room, stocked with a wide assortment of kosher foods and with all the amenities that an Orthodox family may need.

While we yearn for a time when all illness will fade, it is surely this kind of stalwart commitment to chesed and ahavas Yisrael that will usher in this miraculous era, bimheirah b’yameinu, amen.

Links in the Chain

While gedolim pictures hanging on a school’s walls are a fairly common sight, Rabbi Dovid Morgenstern, the menahel of the fourth and fifth grade division of Far Rockaway’s Yeshiva Darchei Torah, has infused new significance into the concept. The pictures now hanging in his division’s hallways all share one common denominator: They are the rebbeim of the division’s rebbeim.

Rav Avrohom Pam’s picture is there because one of the rebbeim is his talmid from Torah Vodaath; Rav Shmuel Berenbaum’s picture is there because one of the rabbeim is his talmid from the Mirrer Yeshiva of Brooklyn. And the same holds true for Rav Chaim Stein, Rav Moshe Shmuel Shapiro, Rav Chaim Epstein, Rav Elya Meir Sorotzkin, and many other gedolim.

When the fourth and fifth graders look at these pictures, they also glean a cogent message.

Dear talmid, you are a link in a chain. A long, long, chain going all the way back to Moshe Rabbeinu who received the Torah directly from Hashem. We received Torah from our rebbeim, and we then taught your rebbeim, who now teach you.

One day, you too will have talmidim.

Because the chain of Torah will never stop.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1042)

The post The Moment: Issue 1042 first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.