In a world of ever-changing culinary trends, meat-stuffed artichokes will always remain a true classic in the Sephardic world of culinary masterpieces. Each artichoke gets filled with a delicious and warm-flavored meat filling, and the olive oil and freshly squeezed lemon juice provide a Mediterranean brightness that complements the artichokes’ natural earthy flavor.

You know that feeling that makes you tingle inside right before you serve something because you know everyone will say “wow!”? Well, this is that kind of dish!

I love this recipe for a few reasons:

1. There’s not a lot of work or preparation involved to get this dish from start to finish.
2. The flavors are simple, yet it’s a total flavor party in every bite.
3. The slow-cooking process allows the flavors to meld beautifully, creating a dish that’s as aromatic as it is delicious.
4. Personally, I love the feeling that I’m cooking something right out of my grandmother’s kitchen. Growing up, this was served on special Friday nights and on Yom Tov.

Trust me on this one. One bite, and you’ll be calling yourself master chef!

SERVES 8 - 10

• 1½ lb (680 g) ground meat
• ½ cup fresh parsley
• 1 Tbsp paprika in oil
• 1 tsp salt
• ½ tsp black pepper
• ½ tsp garlic powder
• ½ tsp dried dill
• 2 small onions
• 2 14-oz (400-g) bags frozen artichoke bottoms
• extra-virgin olive oil, for drizzling

Sauce

• 2 Tbsp onion soup mix
• ½ tsp salt
• ½ tsp black pepper
• ½ tsp turmeric
• 2 Tbsp parsley flakes
• 1 cup boiling water

Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C). Spray a Pyrex dish very well with cooking spray or line a 9x13-inch (23x33-cm) pan with parchment paper.

Place meat, parsley, and spices in a medium-sized bowl and mix until well-combined.

Place onions in the food processor and blend until it reaches a creamy consistency. Add to the meat mixture.

Wash and dry all artichokes well. Fill the artichoke bottoms with the meat mixture. Fill generously because the meat shrinks while cooking. Place all the filled artichokes in the pan.

Combine the sauce ingredients in a glass cup and mix well.

Pour 1–2 spoonsful of the sauce over each artichoke. Whatever is left, pour into the pan. Try to make sure that there’s liquid on the entire surface of each artichoke. Drizzle olive oil over everything.

Cover with a layer of parchment paper and then double cover tightly with aluminum foil.

Bake for 1 hour, then lower the temperature to 250°F (120°C) for 2 hours.

(Originally featured in Family Table, Issue 902)

The post Stuffed Artichokes first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

Mr. Spilman was kind enough to share his signature recipe for broccoli kugel with us.

SERVES 8

2 lb (910 g) frozen broccoli florets, defrosted
1 small onion
8 eggs
5 oz (140 g) oil
half tsp garlic powder
salt and pepper, to taste

Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C).

Place broccoli and onion into the food processor. Pulse until blended but not too finely ground. Add the rest of the ingredients and pulse until mixed well.

Spray pan with Pam or the like.

Pour mixture into a 3-lb (1.36-kg) loaf pan.

Bake uncovered until golden brown, approximately 1 hour.

(Originally featured in Family Table, Issue 902)

The post Broccoli Kugel first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

“OH,

really?”

“Wow, go figure!”

“Who would leave a vacation a day early??”

“Especially Hawaii…”

“Whahapa?” (She’s trying to sound Hawaiian.)

That is the reaction on my family chat after I casually texted, “FYI, we decided to come home tomorrow instead of Thursday.”

I’d been keeping my daughters on the “mainland” updated with photographs of our vacation in Kauai. Our original plan for this tropical extravaganza had been to arrive Sunday and depart Thursday, but my husband and I decided to leave early. Within a few minutes of my text, my phone rang with an invitation to join a group Facetime with my daughters.

Daughter 1: “Aren’t you having a good time?”

Me: “Yes, we’re having a lovely time.”

Daughter 2: “But… you traveled so far.”

Me: “Not that far.”

Daughter 3: “It’s just one more day. Why not stay?”

Me: “We already changed the ticket.”

Daughter 4: “But why?”

Me: “We’ve just had enough. I’ll explain it better when I get home.”

They didn’t quite get it. I didn’t quite get it. Only, I did.

The post Ticket to Paradise    first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

Ayala carefully rolled the silk skirt she’d worn to the Schiller meeting and placed it in her suitcase. What a pointless purchase that had turned out to be; as if classy clothing could make up for pathetic sales skills.

She placed five folded weekday tops next to it, frowning. Dini had responded kindly to her email: Don’t worry about it. It was your first time, it’s normal to get nervous. Shuki’s planning a trip soon anyway. He’ll meet with Schiller and see if he can salvage this.

She’d almost have preferred Dini had taken her down for royally messing up. It wouldn’t have made her feel quite so incompetent.

“Knock, knock,” her mother sang, walking into Ayala’s room. She eyed the open suitcase on the floor and her brows creased. “I thought your flight’s tomorrow.”

“It is, but you have the appointment with Dr. Druck later today, and you know how tired you get afterward. You’ll need my help tonight.”

“Ah, I hadn’t thought of that. Yes, I likely will want your help afterward with dinner. Sweet of you to plan for that.”

Ayala raised her eyebrow. As if her mother hadn’t depended on Ayala’s help every other night of her visit as well!

Her mother smiled, shaking her head. “What am I going to do without you, Ayala?” She said it with a laugh, but Ayala jumped at the opening.

“If you lived closer to me, you wouldn’t have to worry about that.”

The post For Granted: Chapter 50 first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

A

ll of our emotions serve a purpose. Being disgusted by the look, taste, smell, and other features of physical objects such as rotten food and open sores serves as a warning — these things might be harmful to ingest or touch. In this way, disgust keeps us safe from pathogens and disease — and even potentially harmful people.

“My mother was horrible to me. When I remember the look on her face when she spewed her dripping sarcasm, her vicious insults, I feel like I want to throw up,” says Dina.

Naturally, abuse generates feelings of disgust. We want to expel the emotional toxin from our system. Doing so is a vital step in restoring our sense of goodness and lovability. It’s an essential part of the therapeutic process for victims of childhood abuse.

But how does the behavior of another person become woven into our inner fabric? How does remembering or experiencing revolting treatment make us sick?

The Inner World

Here’s how I think of it. Picture a child’s brain filled with soft landing pads, primed to receive and hold ideas sent by significant adults. If parents send words of love and approval, a landing pad receives them and using the original words as instructive models, constructs receptors to more efficiently capture them in the future. By the second decade of life, when words of love and approval are sent, they’re quickly absorbed by the receptor units.

Unfortunately, when parents send words of criticism, complaint, disapproval and so on, a landing pad is established for negative comments. “What’s wrong with you??” quickly finds its receptor and lands there. Parents whose faces communicate displeasure, annoyance, and disgust (and let’s face it — these are the faces worn in the moment by most angry parents) create landing pads for rejection. The more negative a parent is, the more landing pads there will be, cluttering the inner world of a child with revolting emotions.

When this child becomes an adult, she’ll be exquisitely sensitive to signals of rejection from others. A thoughtless remark from a friend, spouse, or colleague will find a long and firmly established receptor to swallow it whole. Feelings of shame and inadequacy take root on multiple landing pads across the brain, poisoning the inner atmosphere.

In a highly positive brain, the same thoughtless remark would have trouble finding a landing pad. It would bounce off the surface of positive landing pads and be ignored, reframed, or otherwise discounted.

Creating Landing Pads

This metaphor helps us understand how important it is for parents to regularly employ positive words and radiate accepting faces. Doing so fosters the development of healthy and protective landing pads and receptors capable of ensuring a lifetime supply of joyful emotion. Short-fused parents, accidentally seeding landing pads of repulsion and rejection with their words, tone of voice, and unpleasant facial expressions, saddle their kids with landing pads primed for self-disgust. Compliments won’t “fit,” but insults will find a perfect home.

How do you know if your own brain has been loaded with an insufficient supply of positive landing pads and an oversupply of negative ones? Simply notice how you respond to both praise and criticism. If praise feels uncomfortably excessive or not quite true, while criticism feels comfortably familiar and somehow “right,” you’ll know that you lack positive landing pads and have a surplus of negative ones.

The cure? Renovate! If you’ve suffered from childhood abuse, seek the help of a trauma therapist.

Otherwise, self-help will be sufficient. Just take three minutes a day for as many days as desired, to do a “landing pad meditation.” Sit with your eyes closed, breathing slowly for about a minute. Keep your eyes closed and continue breathing slowly, but now imagine a loving, smiling face in front of you, looking straight at you and softly uttering praises such as, “You’re competent, kind, smart, good. You’re beautiful/handsome, loving and lovable. You’re precious and valuable, needed and appreciated.”

Continue in this way for a couple of minutes, rambling off any positive trait you can think of. Take a final deep breath in and out and end the meditation. Deep breathing ensures that the words will penetrate into the parts of the brain that create and maintain landing pads. Kind words ensure that your new landing pads will soon outnumber and replace the old, self-loathing ones, creating a healthier, happier inner landscape.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 902)

The post Landing Pads first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

Rabbi Dovid Newman’s V’haarev Na initiative has led to the mastery of an incalculable number of dapei Gemara. The program encourages thousands of yeshivah students to dedicate themselves to review their learning again and again, and constantly write notations in their Gemaras. This allows one to “own” the masechta — shattering all barriers and granting access to that reservoir of the sweetest waters in the world. Many yeshivos have incorporated this model into their own curriculum.

And when the yeshivos’ semesters end and the boys head off to camp, it’s with the excitement for a fun-filled summer blended with sadness. Saying goodbye to a zeman charged with the energy of V’haarev Na isn’t easy.

But not anymore. Camp Munk’s Rabbi Feigelstein reached out to Rabbi Newman to help incorporate the first — of what will hopefully soon be many — V’haarev Na camp programs. This specific program is titled “Tamid B’Simcha,” a name that carries a dual reference. The limud is Maseches Tamid — and, because it will bring so much joy, it is justly called “Tamid B’Simcha.”

But the general interpretation of the words is equally applicable. “Tamid b’simchah” means “always happy.” The vision of the camp, and the program, is to accomplish exactly that — to bring its participants to a place of sublime happiness through the exhilarating rigor of limud haTorah. Through V’Haarev Na, one can truly become tamid b’simchah.

Here, Rabbi Newman is shown speaking to the campers, sharing with them the outline of what will make their summer camp experience the sweetest one they ever had.

Along with it is a photo of the campers doing exactly that.

No Such Thing as a Mistake

Rabbi Nechemia Hoffman, the dynamic director of outreach in Columbus’s Beth Jacob shul, spent an exhilarating week in Eretz Yisrael as part of an Ohr Somayach Jewish Learning Exchange. Along the way, he was zocheh to see three flashes of obvious Hashgachah pratis.

The hashgachah began even before the trip did.

A student slated to join the trip shared with Rabbi Hoffman that he would begin putting on tefillin daily. The problem was that he didn’t own a pair. Rabbi Hoffman had dealt with such scenarios before and had developed a relationship with a philanthropist named Jacob who could be relied upon to sponsor a pair of tefillin when the need arose. Rabbi Hoffman would typically send Jacob a text, but for some reason he can’t explain, chose to place a phone call instead. He reached for his phone, searched for “Jacob” in his contacts and hit “call.”

The call was promptly answered, but Rabbi Hoffman did not recognize the voice on the other end. He then realized he’d called the wrong Jacob. This Jacob on the other line was a man he barely knew; he had met him once while the fellow was on a business trip in Columbus some months prior.

Rabbi Hoffman hung up immediately, but Jacob called back.

“I’m so sorry,” Rabi Hoffman said, “I called the wrong Jacob, it was a mistake.”

“There’s no such thing as a mistake,” the man responded evenly. “Please tell me why you called.”

“Um, I mean, well, do you even know who I am?” Rabbi Hoffman stammered.

“Sure, I do!” the man replied. “You’re Rabbi Hoffman from Columbus. Listen, since I have you on the line, I have a question for you. Would you know anyone who needs a pair of tefillin?”

Rabbi Hoffman almost dropped the phone.

“W-what? Why do you ask?”

“I remember when I was in Columbus you mentioned that you buy tefillin for people on occasion. I would like to buy someone tefillin. Do you know anyone who needs?”

Rabbi Hoffman assured him that yes, he did actually know someone who could use a pair of tefillin.

The next incident of hashgachah was when the group went to a hospital to visit injured soldiers. One of the soldiers they came across was Aviram. He’d been the subject of a video posted by Hamas, showing an RPG being shot directly at him. Tragically, he lost his arm in the incident, but otherwise, is alive and well.

When one of the mentors on the trip, Jonathan Silverberg of Chicago, Illinois, heard the name “Aviram,” he turned to the soldier’s sister who was also visiting him at the time and asked curiously,

“Aviram? What’s your mother’s name?”

“Ziva,” the sister replied.

Jonathan jumped. “Aviram ben Ziva?!” he exclaimed. Then he explained, “When the war first began, someone distributed names of soldiers to daven for. They were arranged in alphabetical order, and I took a block of ‘Avirams.’ One of them is ‘Aviram ben Ziva.’ I’ve been davening for you three times a day.”

And with that, Aviram and Jonathan embraced, two brothers connected for eight months through that unparalleled bond called prayer.

AS part of the trip’s itinerary, the group attended a lecture at Yeshivas Ohr Somayach on the topic of the first of the Ten Commandments, “Anochi Hashem.” The lecturer then asked: “Ten? Do you know what the other Commandments are?” The attendees found the commandment of “Honor your father and mother” to be of particular interest and peppered the lecturer with questions about it.

The next segment of their mission led them through Meah Shearim neighborhood. As they walked along, Rabbi Hoffman realized that they were about to pass the apartment of famed mashpia and mekubal, Rav Gamliel Rabinowitz shlita. Not wanting to miss the opportunity, he knocked on Rav Gamliel’s door. The rebbetzin answered.

“The Rav is just down the block,” she said. They group walked down the block and, sure enough, saw Rav Gamliel. Rabbi Hoffman introduced them, explaining the purpose of their visit, and Rav Gamliel bestowed his heartfelt blessings upon them.

“Is there any message the Rav has for the group?” Rabbi Hoffman asked him.

Rav Gamliel looked at them. “Kabeid es avicha v’es imecha,” he said. “Honor your father and mother.”

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1020)

The post The Moment: Issue 1020 first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

Location: The Catskill Mountains

Years: The 1960s

“Ninety miles away!” my husband announced jubilantly as we neared South Fallsburg, this year’s venue for our annual summer family getaway.

I spot the Borscht Belt historical marker boasting the more than 500 resorts, 50,000 bungalows, and 1,000 rooming houses established between the 1920s and early 70s by Jewish entrepreneurs in response to the exclusion of the Jewish community from existing establishments. And I am whisked back in time, to when my family and I would vacation here, in the 60s.

Indeed, vacationing in “The Mountains” in upstate New York is in my blood. As a child, I would sit in the car with my parents and two older sisters, making the same trip every summer. We’d pass billboard upon billboard advertising just some of the hundreds of hotels, motels, and bungalow colonies in what is still fondly known as the Borscht Belt. At first sight of the mountain greenery, my father would shut off the air conditioning in our Pontiac Bonneville so we could roll down the windows to let in the clean, crisp country air. Excitement mounting (and ears popping), we’d head on to our summer hotel.

The post Moving Mountains   first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

T

he boys were working out again. It was an on-again, off-again thing at Teiger’s: Buy all the whey powders and talk about how you can’t drink beer at oneg because it’ll weigh you down at your workout Sunday morning before first seder.

Then they’d get lazy and the barbells would get dusty, until someone would get inspired and the boys would all be pumping iron again. It was a cycle, and right now, it was in full swing.

He stuffed his sneakers and shorts into a bag, and tried to be quiet as he shook up his pre-workout, but Estee’s silent appearance in the kitchen made him feel like he’d been thundering around the house.

“You scared me!” he said, hand to his heart.

She smiled sleepily. “Are you going to yeshivah now?”

“Don’t I go to yeshivah every day?”

She blushed. “Well, yeah, but not, uh, lately, at this hour….”

That hurt. He tried to smile calmly. “Well, here I am, in the flesh. And with that, I bid you adieu.” He gave a little bow, surreptitiously grabbed his gym bag and tallis bag, and rushed out the front door.

So, what, he thought, as he jogged along. So, what, that the first adrenaline he’d had in a while to get up on time was because Rubinstein told him there was pre-seder workout? It didn’t mean anything. Well, at least nothing much. Although he had no doubt that Estee would feel differently.

The post Picture This: Chapter 13 first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

Everyone in the recreational outdoors industry is aware that when engaging in hiking activities, especially during the scorching summer months, lots of water and wearing a hat are essential. Yet that knowledge alone is insufficient to protect people in particularly hot and challenging outdoor conditions.

We found out about this in the hardest and most tragic way possible — through the death of our only child, Ariel Yitzchak a”h, on September 10, 2014.

This is a story about life. Your life. My life. And my son’s legacy.

My wife Ellen and I were not raised in shomer Shabbos homes. We became frum through Aish HaTorah when we were in our 30s. Unfortunately, we had fertility issues for years, and it was a miracle when Ellen gave birth to Ariel Yitzchak in 1996.

When Ariel Yitzchak, who grew up in Great Neck where we live, graduated from high school, it was a given that he would go on a gap year program to cement his love of Torah and of Eretz Yisrael.

We heard that there would be a two-day hike in the Judean Desert at the end of the first week of the program, and, with the knowledge that our son was in good hands, we didn’t question the timing of the trip or the temperature in Israel in early September.

But the world is getting hotter in many places, especially in areas such as Israel’s Negev region and America’s Southwest. With increased heat comes an increasing danger of heat stroke, especially exertional heat stroke during activities that can push the body’s outer limits, if the proper precautions are not taken.

Although the first day of the hike was very hot, the hikers walked under waterfalls, which offered considerable relief. That night, their campgrounds were overrun by biting bugs which kept them awake most of the night. The group began the second day of the hike at 8:00 a.m., and over the course of the morning, the temperature quickly rose, eventually reaching 98°F. They were encouraged to press on despite the heat and exhaustion, and at two in the afternoon, Ariel Yitzchak collapsed. He could not be revived.

When Ariel Yitzchak arrived at the hospital, his internal temperature had reached around 109.4°F/43°C. Although doctors spent over an hour trying to revive him, Ariel Yitzchak succumbed to severe heat distress.

As his parents, words can never fully express our loss. We knew only that, in an effort to bear our sorrow, we felt compelled to educate others about heat-related illnesses, so that no one else ever dies this way and no other family loses a loved one under such circumstances.

After the initial devastation of our loss, we began looking for answers and explanations, and discovered some startling information: We learned that there is a difference between exertional heat stroke and regular heat stroke. This happens when your body overworks and produces more heat than it can dissipate. Your body temperature keeps climbing, and although water can help with hydration, it doesn’t always lower the core body temperature.

One day, a friend and medical doctor told me that checklists are a proven way to prevent certain calamities in hospitals.

“Maybe you should take all of your research and compile a checklist?” she suggested. And so, Ariel’s Checklist became my son’s legacy, to ensure proper safety protocols are in place when it comes to preventing heat stroke during outside exertion.

I engaged the help of Professor Yoram Epstein, at the time Israel’s leading expert on exertional heat stroke, who cowrote the IDF’s heat safety protocols. I also engaged Dr. Robert Huggins, who works with Professor Douglas Casa of the Korey Stringer Institute (KSI) at the University of Connecticut. Both Professor Casa and Dr. Huggins, two of America’s foremost experts on exertional heat stroke, were critical in making Ariel’s Checklist credible.

Ariel’s Checklist is the world’s only comprehensive scientific document on the prevention of exertional heat stroke. In easy-to-read English and Hebrew, it focuses on the dangers of hiking in hot weather. (There is both a short one-page hiker’s version and a longer hike leader’s version).

For the first five years after our son’s death, my wife and I went to Israel once a year to promote heat safety using Ariel’s Checklist.

Scientists from around the world have requested permission to use this material in their research publications and in other writings that relate to the topic of exertional heat stroke. (An Outside magazine article by Peter Stark titled, “How to Prevent and Treat Heat Stroke,” for example, has a link to the Ariel’s Checklist website.) We have heard numerous individual stories of people whose lives were saved because they followed the instructions on Ariel’s Checklist and refused to go along with dangerous hikes or other unsafe activities in extreme heat.

The following are the ten key points in Ariel’s Checklist. (You can find the full list at www.arielschecklist.com. Readers should prepare for hot-weather hikes by looking at the actual checklist and not relying on this article alone.) Ariel Yitzchak, unfortunately, suffered from every one of these points on his fatal two-day hike. It is important to note that not any one risk factor alone is likely to cause serious heat-related illness, but rather, the degree of the risk factor(s) and how many of them are being simultaneously compromised.

1. ACCLIMATE TO THE HEAT. It takes 14 days for the typical person to acclimate to the heat if he is not already so acclimated. That doesn’t mean that if you go to Israel, the American Southwest, or anywhere hot, and spend most of your time in air-conditioned buildings, those days count. They don’t. You need 14 days in the heat in order for your body to acclimate. Ariel Yitzchak got off the airplane on September 3 and went on the two-day hike on September 9.
2. THE HIKE SHOULD BE APPROPRIATE TO THE SKILL LEVEL. If you’re a novice and have a low fitness level, don’t go, or make others go, on a demanding hike. Extra care and planning is mandatory for multiple-day hikes. Hiking through rough terrain is considered an intense physical activity.
3. MAKE SURE YOU’RE HYDRATED. This cannot be emphasized enough. Ensure you are hydrated before, during, and after each hike. Merely bringing enough liquid is not enough. The person responsible for safety must actually monitor how much the hiker has drunk. Electrolytes from salty snacks and fruits/vegetables or other foods is essential. In the dry, arid desert, a good rule of thumb is to drink between half a liter to a liter (quart) per hour to avoid severe dehydration. Understand that if the water gets too hot, the hiker won’t drink it. Have insulated water containers and/or bring a lot of ice, depending on the circumstances. Winding up in the hospital for intravenous fluids is an indication of inadequate planning or supervision.

We have heard stories of women, who, concerned with modesty, didn’t want to go to the bathroom out in the open during a summer desert hike, and so they didn’t drink any water. Instead, they wound up in the hospital suffering from dehydration.

4. WEAR LOOSE, MOISTURE-WICKING CLOTHES. Hikers must wear clothing made of a fabric that “breathes” or that moves the moisture to the outer surface. Ariel Yitzchak was the only participant on his hike who wore long black nylon pants, which not only don’t breathe, they actually trap body heat. Those pants trapped half my son’s body heat and contributed mightily to his exertional heat stroke.
5. ENSURE ADEQUATE SLEEP. This is critical! Sleep loss has been shown to impair the body’s ability to regulate body temperature adequately. Failure to be aware of this factor can be hazardous. The night between September 9 and 10, few people on Ariel Yitzchak’s hike got more than three hours of sleep due to the excitement and a lot of buzzing insects.
6. MEASURE THE WET BULB GLOBE TEMPERATURE (WBGT). The WBGT is the “feels like” temperature, the measure of the heat stress in direct sunlight, which takes into account temperature, humidity, wind speed, sun angle, and cloud cover. Make sure it’s below 89 degrees Fahrenheit (31.7 degrees Celsius). There are consumer hand-held devices to measure the WBGT, and it can be measured by a thermometer wrapped in a wet cloth, which simulates the cooling effect of sweat (which is influenced largely by wind and humidity). Since the thermometer is exposed to the sun, it also accounts for the effects of sunlight.
7. ENSURE ADEQUATE WORK/REST CYCLES. This is a key factor against overheating. The more rest, the better/safer the experience is for everyone.
8. AVOID MID-DAY HIKING. Especially in the desert. If you must hike at the hottest part of the day, at the minimum, greatly extend the length and frequency of the rest periods.
9. PREPARE FOR MEDICAL EMERGENCIES. There should be at least one person who is trained in medical assistance, particularly in the treatment and care of heat-related illness. Bring a portable tent or bed sheet to create shelter from the sun when there isn’t any other shelter.
10. INSIST ON SAFETY. It should be emphasized to everyone before and during the hike that it is not only fine, but imperative, to speak out at any time if they are not feeling well. Some people like to prove that they can push their limits, or might be feeling bullied by a macho hike leader or participant who has no patience for signs of weakness. Not feeling well? Garner the confidence to speak out that hiking in the current heat environment no longer feels safe for you. Look out for your fellow hiker as well. Don’t let yourself, or your friends, be bullied into doing something you no longer feel is safe. If it gets to that point, you need an immediate change to safety. Don’t accept any other response.

Hiking is fun and it always will be, but it must also be safe — and it too often is not. Please be that person who is knowledgeable in the details of Ariel’s Checklist and insist that its conditions are upheld at all times. Your life, and my son’s legacy, are dependent on it.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1020)

The post Stay Safe, for Ariel’s Sake  first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

MY association with this magazine is a couple of decades old, baruch Hashem, and one of the nicer features of the relationship is the lack of a journalistic agenda.

In the wider world, media has discovered its own power. The theory of “media salience” proposes that some issues are not so important to the public, but by consistently focusing on them, the media gives them significance. So, for example, even if readers don’t have strong feelings about global warming, the media can make them believe that it is a pressing problem, and this will affect how they vote, or where they allocate their energy or resources.

At this magazine, the starting point of any position is that it is firmly rooted in Shulchan Aruch, mesorah, and the viewpoint of contemporary gedolim, but outside of that, there is no agenda. Still, sometimes there is a sustained focus on a particular topic, and that itself — even if it’s not exactly an agenda — can turn a small problem into a much bigger one.

Before I continue, a serious trigger warning: I know this topic is sensitive, and that it provokes people, so I want to make clear that I do not believe vaping is safe.

Let’s talk this out. A few months back, the magazine ran a story about a boy who sustained a collapsed lung as a result of vaping, by a mother in distress writing to spare others a similar ordeal, chas v’shalom. A few weeks ago, in the popular Family First health section, there was a piece by a respected pediatrician cautioning readers about vaping: It’s not just a little unsafe, it’s very unsafe, was the conclusion.

Then, a couple weeks ago, there was an op-ed in the main magazine, with a bigger headline and more space allocated to the very same cause. I know it’s not an agenda, and I also know that the data is real and it is concerning. But running articles like these will not achieve any goal, unless the goal is to cause more hand-wringing and fearmongering.

Mimah nafshach, as they say in yeshivos: The mothers already believe this, as did the fathers, so they don’t need more information. The bochurim already know this, and yet, for whatever reason, they are nevertheless vaping. So the added two or three or ten articles won’t change anything. No bochur is waiting for just that one more statistic to find the strength to quit.

Ela mai, what will happen? What will happen is that the poor mother will be even more upset about it, and when her son has his brief, well-deserved off-Shabbos from yeshivah, she will be hounding him. Nothing will change, except that it will be a little less pleasant for both of them.

Bochurim are low-hanging fruit, though, so readers get to be strong and assertive by taking a position that is universally accepted, agreeing with one another and nodding along, regardless of what ideological or communal differences they might have.

I don’t know why bochurim vape. It is disturbing. But they do. Perhaps it’s because they bear the hardest workload of any demographic in the frum world — a workday, even in an average yeshivah, of about ten to twelve hours of toiling over and mastering Aramaic words and sophisticated concepts, along with the intense effort required to become bnei Torah, training themselves to safeguard hearts and minds. They are teenage boys, struggling with the changing reality of their very selves, with restlessness and too much energy and the usual adolescent struggle for self-worth and a clear identity.

Now, if you’re still reading.

Everyone — unless he is an AI-generated version of a human, or a serial liar — admits to facing challenges and temptations, and bochurim are no different. A lot of stuff has to happen between the ages of 17 and 22 for them to be successful adults, and the pressure is great. If you don’t see a vice, that doesn’t mean it’s not there. It just means it’s less visible.

If they were looking for vices — real ones, the sort that have the potential to destroy a person — they could find them without having to invest too much resourcefulness. It’s not like when we were teenagers and sinning took ingenuity.

The “you guys are the most heroic generation ever” speech is not just a cliché, but actual real life.

Now, imagine some rich sponsor looking to make a mark on the world. He decides to sponsor huge, eye-catching signs that will hang in bungalow colony shuls this summer. In oversized letters, kiddush attendees will be cautioned about the fact that pickled herring is high in sodium and very not recommended by the Pulmonary Hypertension Association, or that too many shots of whiskey can lead to cognitive decline.

I don’t predict great success for that sort of campaign.

It’s just noise, you know? Like, the donor gets to pat himself on the back for being proactive, but anyone who is a little geribben knows it will not change a thing, except to maybe force people to have one more shot.

(Hey, lay off our kiddush! We work hard all week, trying to support our families, help our married children, stay current with the daf and just keep it all together! Bug off. L’chayim!)

And these are adults!

Another magazine article on the dangers of vaping achieves nothing toward the goal. It just further riles up the ones who were already riled up.

But I get it. It’s a vice that doesn’t tempt most adults, so we get to feel virtuous.

Ayy, you’ll ask, it really is dangerous. How dare we remain silent?

Okay, then, let’s at least alternate topics in the new “Family Perils” column. We can talk about the effects of the skinny latte and the research connecting the use of artificial sweeteners with stroke or heart disease, or about how the acesulfame potassium in your diet drink triggers an insulin release, leading to cravings and actually stalling fat loss. Not geshmak, eh?

So here’s my plea, dear editors who display great moral courage and self-confidence in having allowed this piece to go to print. If you need to stick vaping into the roster just to maintain balance, add an extra disclaimer on those weeks, like the surgeon general’s warning, something about the positive effects that learning Torah with toil and exertion has on the world, or a note about how much brachah is generated for all of us when a bochur who isn’t that strong in learning pushes himself to chazzer the Gemara one more time.

Not as dramatic, but this effect of what they are doing is not speculation or conjecture; it’s fact, proven again and again, generation after generation.

Legends! Torah gives life and they — our heroes in black and white — are the ones keeping us alive.

So before the Shabbos off or bein hazmanim, consider clipping that last line and leaving it lying around for them to see. If you are proud of them, maybe they will appreciate their own role as well.

And then, who knows what kind of smart decisions they might make?

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1020)

The post Low-Hanging Fruit first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.