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Dec.-Jan. 2011 Teves 5772 Volume 16 Number 7 issue 106

Features A Jew Worthy of Kvittelach Remote Control Warfare Powerful Stories, Masterful Storytelling The Shabbos Table From Cleveland to Kuwait Spark, Flame, Fire Our Trip to China

46 56 64 72 81 88 96

Advertorial HASC: A Time for Celebration Chanukah Superstore

Every Month Health: Scoliosis Health: Good Posture for Students

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Eshes Chayil

COVER PHOTO BY STAN WEISS

Ettil Danzig Kaminecki Shidduch Nightmares Chanukah Delights Vitamin D Deficiency The Rabbiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Marriage Manual Do-It-Yourself Simchahs

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

105 108 110 114 118 122

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Editor’s Note

Publisher & CEO:

Sam Kay

Managing Director: Managing Editor: Copy editors:

Shlomo M. Kougel Debbie Shapiro Chaya Baila Gavant Brocha Sternfeld

Art Director:

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Rivka Hollander Chayim Dovid Mescher Vitty Steiner

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recently showed an older American couple around Jerusalem. Although they were both Jewish, they were so totally ignorant of their heritage that when I pointed out a box of esrogim for sale in front of the Musiyaff shul (at rock-bottom post-Sukkos prices), they had no idea what I was talking about. They had never heard of an esrog before. As we wandered through the narrow cobblestone Yerushalmi streets, we heard the sweet sound of limud Torah resonating from every corner. The husband, a retired lawyer, was as excited as a young child. At the Mirrer Yeshiva, I suggested that he go inside to look around. He emerged with tears in his eyes. “The Reform temple was so sterile, so lacking life. No one ever told me that Judaism could be like this.” Ashreinu. In this issue of Jewish Lifestyle, we read the true stories of two Jewish women who, upon discovering that “Judaism could be like this,” acted on their enthusiasm and merited their own Chanukah miracle. Nechama Bornstein’s haunting fiction piece, “The Shabbos Table,” will leave you inspired at the power of Shabbos to transcend generations. Eliyahu Herman’s mesiras nefesh for the pivotal mitzvah of tefillin saved his life and the lives of countless others. We are privileged to include an entire section focusing on HASC, an organization devoted to helping children with special needs realize their potential. Ashreinu that our community has merited organizations that realize that “Judaism could be like this.”

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Correction: In the last issue, the citation in “The Burning Bush” referring to the activities of the BergenBelsen Burial Society and Chanina Walzer was mistakenly attributed to the Wisconsin Historical Society. It should have been attributed to Dr. Henri Lustiger Thaler, Holocaust Lists and the Memorial Museum.

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

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December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

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A Time for Celebration!

25 Years & Counting…

n every area of entertainment, there’s always one show that rises above all others, essentially becoming the show to end all shows. The Oscars, Emmys, Grammys, the Tonys are all unquestionably in a class of their own. In Jewish music, the show that quickly became the gold standard by which all Jewish music is measured was, without a doubt, A Time for Music, HASC’s annual show. A walk down memory lane reveals not only why A Time for Music is Jewish music’s marquee event of the year, but it also depicts those landmark moments in Jewish music history that now remain as cherished memories, frozen in time. PHOTOGRAPHY COURTESY OF STAN WEISS

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

HASC: A Time for Music I January 18, 1988

Jewish music history was made when HASC began what is now an annual tradition of “the concert of all concerts.” The first HASC concert featured quite a number of firsts in Jewish music. It was the first time a Jewish music concert was held at the illustrious Lincoln Center. With Zale Newman as its MC, it was also the first time that Mordechai Ben David and Avraham Fried shared a concert stage. This dynamic duo was joined by Yoel Sharabi, and the theme of the evening was “Around the Year.” At that venue, with that lineup and program, the audience enjoyed an evening jam packed with great music. And A Time for Music was born.

HASC: A Time for Music II January 22, 1989

In an awe-inspiring twenty-five year tribute to Jewish music, the ATFM audience was treated to a magical walk through time, with some of the most recognizable music stars in history. The lineup read like a Hall of Fame collaboration: With Zale Newman as the MC, audiences were treated to superstars MBD, Shlomo Carlebach, The Piamentas, Jo Amar, Avraham Rosenblum, Dveykus, Ohr Chadosh, Pirchei, Uncle Moishy and Ben Zion Shenker. MBD, singing “Someday” and “Biyirushalayim” with Shlomo Carlebach in the center of a circle surrounded by the HASC concert cast and staff is a moment in Jewish music history that can never be duplicated. Abie Rotenberg’s song, “A Small Piece of Heaven,” was another highlight of the night.

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HASC: A Time for Music III January 21, 1990

Avraham Fried fans were treated to a nonstop musical evening with the superstar, highlighted by songs such as “Tanya” and “Leshana Haba’ah.” “I remember listening to Avraham singing Eliyahu Hanavi” and looking around the room. The energy that night was at an all-time Jewish music high,” recalls Nachum Segal. Add in the nostalgic tunes of the HASC concert group, Harmony, and it could already have been called a successful concert. But with HASC’s penchant for surprise guests, MBD stepped onto stage, and together, they ended the perfect concert.

HASC: A Time for Music IV January 6, 1991

This was a concert where there was something for everyone. If you were ever a fan of Jewish music, you were sure to find your flavor. It featured MBD singing his latest hits and inspiring medleys. The London School of Jewish Song, under the direction of Yigal Calek, sang to a completely captivated audience with their sweet voices and crowd-pleasing songs. Dveykus, Journeys and Kol Achai also graced the stage , and their wonderful medleys kept the concert-goers enthralled. Another Abie Rotenberg song was composed for the show. The song, the unforgettable “Candles,” was performed by Abie and MBD.

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HASC: A Time for Music V January 12, 1992

As “Samchem” was playing The audience viewed on the big screen a performer knocking on MBD’s dressing room door to let him know its showtime to watching Yeedle’s Jewish music debut, this show had MBD written all over it. MBD featured his Double Album that night and, for good measure, imitated a host of Jewish music singers. Regesh was the official choir that night and their song, V’yaazor, was a crowd favorite, along with the showcase of the masters, a feature of some of the greatest Jewish musicians of our time. Once again, Abie Rotenberg stole the show with his composition, “Neshomele”, which was clearly the song of the evening.

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

HASC: A Time for Music VI January 10, 1993

MBD was his usual show-stopping self as he sang classics off his “Moshiach” album. HASC also presented a tribute to the composers of Jewish music and their classic compositions. Avraham Rosenblum and Yoel Sharabi also joined in the evening. Dov Levine and Rivie Schwebel singing “Hamalach” was a crowd favorite, and when MBD and Abie Rotenberg were singing Shlomo Carlebach’s “Ona Hashem” around the piano, Shlomo Carlebach suddenly walked out onto the stage to join them. It would forever be known as the surprise of all surprises.

HASC: A Time for Music VII January 9, 1994

A change of venue made headlines as HASC moved its show to Radio City Music Hall. Mordechai Ben David and the Miami Boys Choir had their first HASC concert partnership. Jewish music stars who joined them that evening included Sandy Shmuely and Andy Statman.

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HASC: A Time for Music VIII January 8, 1995

The show moved back to Avery Fisher Hall and took MBD and Yerachmiel Begun and the Miami Boys Choir for an encore performance. The crowd is treated to two massive MBD and Miami medleys where the stars sang each other’s songs. Abie Rotenberg wrote a tribute to Shlomo Carlebach a”h . Mikey Butler’s a”h speech about what Camp HASC has meant to his brother was the single most significant concert moment ever. Ira Heller and Yehudah Glantz also sang with their heartfelt voices, making it an unforgettable night.

HASC: A Time for Music Year IX February 4, 1996

Avraham Fried made his highly anticipated return to the HASC concert stage in grand style. Fried was accompanied by the Prague Symphony Orchestra for an unforgettable evening of Jewish music. It was a night that is still talked about by HASC and its concert-goers.

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

HASC: A Time for Music X January 5, 1997

This time was Dedi’s turn to be the featured performer at ATFM. Dedi treated the crowd to an excellent show, combining his classic hits, great wit and boundless energy. Jo Amar joined the HASC performers singing his ever-popular “Barcelona.” The concert was also Mendy Wald’s HASC debut, and Yeedle made another impressive appearance. Dedi’s introduction occurred on a huge screen, as he stood with the children of Chevron by the Tomb of the Patriarchs. In the background, Yisroel Lamm and the Neginah Orchestra struck up the introduction to Dedi’s song, “Chevron.” The result: A masterful HASC moment for all.

HASC: A Time for Music XI January 11, 1998

The show, entitled “The Next Decade,” brought MBD back into the HASC scene, along with Dedi in a concert that marked an unprecedented step in the world of Jewish music. The HASC concert was held at the world’s grandest concert stage, The Metropolitan Opera House. MBD and Dedi shone with a number of duets and solo acts, which including child prodigy Amit Listvand. Just watching the audience’s sheer delight as they filed into “The Met” spoke for itself.

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

HASC: A Time for Music XII January 10, 1999

An encore performance by MBD, Dedi and Amit Listvand redefined the phrase “back by popular demand.” The Metropolitan Opera House was once again the site for Jewish music’s marquee concert. A children’s choir from the Ukraine put the final touches on an amazing show.

HASC: A Time for Music XIII January 9, 2000

MBD, Dedi and Abie Rottenberg teamed up in this much anticipated HASC concert reunion. The show, once again at “The Met,” also featured Amit Listvand and wowed the audience well beyond their expectations.

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HASC: A Time for Music XIV January 13, 2001

MBD and Fried where back together again for the first time in 12 years. The show also included a guest appearance by Yeedle, who sang his trademark song, “Shiru Lamelech” while strumming his guitar. The show took place, once again, at “The Met.” The opening medley with MBD and Avraham Fried emphasized how the combination will always have its very own special magic onstage.

HASC: A Time for Music XV January 13, 2002

“United We Stand” was this year’s theme, in the wake of the tragedy of 9/11. The show was a stirring tribute to the United States of America. The show began with an awesome rendition of “G-d Bless America,” by Baruch Abittan. An appearance by Mayor Rudy Giuliani evokes a five-minute standing ovation. MBD and Dedi return to the HASC stage along with Sruli Williger and Shlomo Simcha, and the night becomes truly unforgettable.

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

HASC: A Time for Music XVI January 12, 2003

“Vintage MBD” is the title of the evening, and MBD takes the crowd on a musical journey through his career. The show is also the HASC debut of music sensation Yaakov Shwekey. Sruli Williger, Shlomo Simcha and Shloime Dachs also make appearances and the audience is treated to terrific music all evening.

HASC: A Time for Music XVll January 18, 2004

The theme of this show was “Jerusalem,” and it featured the best music the Jewish world has to offer. With superstars MBD, Shalsheles, Lipa, Chaim Dovid and Sruly Williger, the evening never lacked excitement. Lipa debuted his “Gelt” video, much to the delight of the audience.

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

HASC: A Time for Music XVllI January 9, 2005

This year’s performance was chock-full of entertaining musical acts, and it featured a copious variety of Jewish music flavors. The evening starred Yaakov Shwekey, Ohad, Yeshiva Boys Choir, Matisyahu, Sruly Williger, The Piamentas, The Rabbi’s Sons, Shlomo Simcha, and, of course, the highlight of the evening, Lipa’s trademark video, “Abi Milebt,” which is still popular today.

HASC: A Time for Music XIX January 22, 2006

The HASC show moved to Carnegie Hall for an unforgettable evening featuring the beloved Yaakov Shwekey, the classic music of Abie Rotenberg and the exciting and widely popular Yeshiva Boys Choir. The wonderful surprise visitors made the perfect evening even more special with the unscheduled appearances of Avraham Fried and Cantor Helfgot. Together, they brought the evening to a whole new level with their heartfelt music and combined voices.

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

HASC: A Time for Music XX January 14, 2007

This year, HASC brought a whole new level of laughter to the already terrific musical lineup for the evening. The show, featuring superstars Avraham Fried, Shalsheles Jr., Ohad, Cantor Helfgot and surprise musical guests Dovid Gabay and Baruch Levine, was jam-packed with terrific melodies and wonderful solos. One of the highlights of the evening was Lipa’s video entitled “Diet,” which left the audience smiling for the rest of the evening. Dedi’s “Dr. Phil” video was another highlight of the show, and helped keep the night entertaining.

HASC: A Time for Music XXI January 13, 2008

HASC, at Lincoln Center, proudly welcomed the worldrenowned Dudu Fisher to the ATFM stage. Much to the delight of the audience, Dudu performed his hilarious “Cantor’”s Audition, which would remain in the hearts of the audience for years to come. Featured this evening where Avraham Fried, Ohad, Cantor Helfgot, the Yeshiva Boys Choir, brothers Shlomo and Eitan Katz, and for something totally different, the amazing Wally Eastwood, who played the HASC theme song on a keyboard by juggling.

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

HASC: A Time for Music XXII January 11, 2009

This yearâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s show featured Yaakov Shwekey doing what he does best, entertaining audiences with his beloved songs and music. Other artists on the show were Yehudah Green, Baruch Levine, Dovid Gabay, the ever-beloved Cantor Helfgot and a surprise visit from an all-time HASC favorite, Abie Rotenberg.

HASC: A Time for Music XXIII January 10, 2010

Avery Fisher Hall proudly hosted Avraham Fried and Lipa, who teamed up to give this evening a truly unforgettable twist. The show was nonstop action, not even pausing for a moment, leading its audience on a roller-coaster-like ride through very lebedik music and fun skits. With a surprise visit from the always hilarious Dedi, and a visit from the world-famous Bello climbing the rafters at Lincoln Center, this show will live on forever in the hearts of concert-goers. Yitzchak Fuchs from Eretz Yisrael,joined Lipa on stage for a song as well, much to the audienceâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s delight. 26

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

HASC: A Time for Music XXIV January 9, 2011

A Time for Duets. HASC approached the show with a whole new flavor: they paired up the top names in Jewish music and created a new sensation. The audiences adored the various duets, including Abie Rotenberg and Baruch Levine, Ohad & Yehudah Green, Shalsheles and Shalsheles Jr., Lipa and Zaidy Lipa (hard to explain; you had to be there...). Shloime Gertner and Lipa, Yonatan Sheinfeld and Ohad, and unforgettable violinist Daniel Ahaviel who left the audience agape with his world-class talent. Nachum Segal paired up with Country Yossi for this event. There was also a surprise visit by the Yeshiva Boys Choir.

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

HASC 25: A Time XX January 8, A Time for Music 25 will be a starstudded evening that will electrify the audience, unprecedented in the world of Jewish music. Seasoned artists will blend in harmony with the newest and most

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

e for Celebration XV 2012 ...... talented stars of today, creating an evening of continued entertainment. These musical virtuosos will impress you with memories that will reverberate and reverberate and reverberate......

Over the years, there were certain individuals who helped to make A Time for Music a household name, as well as the most sought-after show of the year. These people, who have stood by HASC year after year and helped shape ATFM, include: MCs Nachum Segal and Zale Newman; Yisroel Lamm, the famed HASC conductor and composer, who has written so many beautiful overtures over the years; Sheya Mendlowitz, who has co-produced several ATFM concerts; the Neginah Orchestra, which was single-handedly responsible for all the beautiful music each year; the band members, including Yaron Gershovsky, who played the piano solo â&#x20AC;&#x153;Hamalach Hagoelâ&#x20AC;? to a speechless audience, Jim Hynes on the trumpet, Rick Cutler on drums, and Steve Bill on guitar; Larry Gates, for sound and recording; and Bernie Dove for lighting and stage design. A very special thanks to the staff at the HASC offices, including Chaya Miller, Esther Neuwirth and Bella Kessler, for a superb job year after year.

Suki & Ding Productions, the producers of A Time For Music, have been partnered with HASC for many many wonderful years, and, together with the HASC family, has brought Jewish Music to a whole new height, making Camp HASC a possibility year after year.

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

C S A H P M A C T A Y A AD Chumie Srulowitz

Camp. The simple word conjures up images of happy children running around in gleeful abandon, free to express their individuality and freedom, every day dedicated to having loads of fun. Wild activities, crazy bedtimes, exciting new adventures... The memories that are awakened when I hear the word camp are some of the most precious ones I have. And yet, when I was asked to interview a counselor at Camp HASC , very different images flashed through my mind. Depressing images. Images of sick children being wheeled around in child-sized wheelchairs by counselors making every effort to look cheerful. A sad, . cold place, my mind assured me, a sad, cold place, indeed Poor Camp HASC . Poor little children. It turns out that I couldn’t be more wrong if I tried. This is why I’m sharing with you my impressions of Camp HASC . I entered Camp HASC with great hesitation, appointing “Rivky,” a Camp HASC counselor, as my official tour guide for the day. “Is it always so nice and clean here? Or is it visiting

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

day today?” I asked, only half kidding. Rivky laughed. “No, it always looks like this. They make an effort to keep the grounds very clean; it’s more conducive to a happy environment. Come, let me show you something. I want you to see what lunchtime looks like here.” She led me toward the nearest building. “Shouldn’t we look at the rooms first?” I was stalling. “Or maybe we should check out the rest of the grounds? Or maybe...” I was nervous to jump right into the lunch scene. “Come. It’ll be great.” We walked together to the dining room. I clutched a pad and pen protectively in my crossed arms. The room we entered was big and busy. I didn’t know what to look at first. But even before I could register the specific details, there was one factor that smacked you right in the face the moment you walked in. This camp was happiness personified. It was the epitome of what joy could be. And I was witnessing the most genuinely excited group of campers I had ever had an opportunity

Reb Shlomo perf orming in Cam p HASC 2 month s before his petir ah to behold. Nothing, no camp, no amusement park, no simchah I had ever attended could have prepared me for what was unfolding before my eyes. One beautiful little girl, long blond hair tied back with a huge white bow, wheelchair facing her counselor, giggled as she tried to aim peas into a foam cup the counselor held out. The shrieks of joy from her counselor only made the little girl laugh even harder. Across the room, there was an older boy with gorgeous black payos. No matter how hard his counselor tried, he was not going to eat his lunch. He was too busy conducting his imaginary band, hands waving in the air, feet banging as hard as they could to his very special rhythm, a song I knew must have made the angels in heaven weep. And counselors were singing along to his orchestra! A few feet away, two little girls sat side by side, happily contemplating the contents of their lunch, trying to rearrange the food on their plate to resemble funny faces. The concentration on their tiny faces and the thrill of the challenge made me giggle involuntarily. I found myself wanting to join in their fun, even for just a few moments. On and on, throughout the bustling dining room, almost every three inches, every four seconds, another shriek of laughter, another shout of joy, another burst of song. In another corner, a tall counselor

and an adorable little girl were locked in a bear hug, swaying together softly back and forth, back and forth… And I just stood there gaping, tears gathering in my eyes. Rivky turned to me and spread out her arms, as though to encompass the entire scene. “Well? This is Camp HASC! What do you think? Ask away! Aren’t you supposed to be jotting things down or something? Interview me!” But I had no questions. And even if I had any, they were impossible to verbalize. There was nothing to ask; nothing to say. I was too unprepared for what I was witnessing. For ten minutes on that warm summer day up at Camp HASC, I just observed lunchtime. Ten minutes in my life that were, for eternity, burnished in my memory, forever serving as a reminder that I had never seen true happiness before that fateful day in July. The campers, whom I had mentally written off as helpless and sad, were beautiful children, young and old. Their genuine, soul-stirring joy at a simple weekday lunch was indescribable. I watched the loving counselors, some sitting on the floor, a few in chairs, two of them even standing on benches, doing whatever it took to make it work. Laughing with the campers, singing and clapping with them, even running the wheelchairs and

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

carriages around to whoops of laughter and delight. The counselors didn’t seem at all concerned that they might be getting their clothing filthy, they weren’t nervous that people thought they were acting silly or strange. They were expressing love for their campers, and I had the privilege of joining these beautiful children in their own little world and sharing in their happiness. I turned to Rivky, trying to blink away any vestige of tears. “I can’t write now. I’m sorry. Must be writer’s block or something. Can we continue this interview a little later? We can sit here together and watch lunch some more, if it isn’t a bother...” Rivky understood. She put an arm around my shoulder and led me to an empty chair. “You know,” she said, thoughtfully, “it’s not just a catch phrase; this really is the happiest place in the world for them. And it’s the same for us counselors. Every counselor here today is here because they want to be here. This is not a job. It’s a privilege. We truly love these children. They’re ours. And when they’re happy, we’re happy. When they’re sad, we’re sad. They’re a part of us. Don’t you see? This is real

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

joy.” She smiled at me, walked toward a little girl sitting a few feet away, and threw her arms around her, swinging her into the air. The little girl shrieked in ecstasy. I stared at my blank pad. Pen poised over the empty page, I looked around the room. Then I looked back at the paper and slowly wrote one sentence. I couldn’t think of anything else to write, no matter how hard I tried. I read it and reread it, and still there was nothing else to say. I still have that piece of paper. It’s hanging in my room near a mirror. And all it says is, “Camp HASC: the happiest place on earth.”

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

HASC Programs Early Intervention (EI) Early Intervention services (birth to age 3) are funded and regulated by the New York State Department of Health and in New York City by the NYC Department of Mental Health, Mental Retardation and Alcoholism Services. Services for eligible children include: Monolingual and Bilingual Evaluations, Initial and Ongoing Service Coordination, Special Education, Physical, Occupational, and Speech Therapies, Assistive Technology, Nursing and Nutritional Services, Counseling, Family Training/Parent Workshops, Support Groups and Transportation. Services are provided in one of our schools or the childâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s home or day care center, 12 months a year.

Preschool Preschool services (ages 3-5) are funded and regulated by the New York State Department of Education in conjunction with local school districts. Services for eligible children include: Special Education, Physical, Occupational and Speech Therapies, ABA, Adaptive Physical Education, Counseling, Music and Play Therapy, Sensory Integration, Computer Education, Monolingual and Bilingual Evaluations, Nursing, Family Training and Support Groups. Services are provided in half or full day classes, 12 months a year.

SEIT/RS Itinerant Teacher and Related Services. SEIT/Related Services Program (ages 3-5) is funded and regulated by the New York State Department of Education in conjunction with local school districts. Services include: Special Education, Physical, Occupational and Speech Therapies, Counseling, Monolingual and Bilingual Evaluations. Services are provided for children who require special education and/or therapeutic services at home or in a nursery school, day care or play group environment.

School Age School Age Program (ages 5-21) is funded and regulated by the New York State Department of Education in conjunction with the NYC Department of Education and local school districts (CSE). Services for eligible children include: Special Education, Physical, Occupational and Speech Therapies, Adaptive Physical Education, Psychological Services, Adaptive Computers, Assistive Technology and Parent Workshops. Pre-vocational Training and Transition Services for children 14 and older are available. Services are provided 12 months a year.

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

A Time for Music As we approach this year’s performance of

We wish to thank the following individuals who have selflessly devoted so much of their time and efforts to HASC and A TIME FOR MUSIC.

Board of Directors:

Barry Hertz - Chairman of the Board Rabbi Dovid Fuld

Paula Davis

Judge Danny Butler

Rafi Knepler

Abe Mordowitz

Shimon Friedman , MD

Jeremy Strauss

Executive Team of HAS C:

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Jeremy Strauss

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December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

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’ll be honest. I don’t usually enjoy going grocery shopping. I mean, where’s the fun in choosing between parsley and parsnip, broccoli and baked beans? Besides, in most groceries I’ve frequented, there’s usually some “helpful” worker in the produce section asking, “Are you looking for green peas, or should I give you black eyes?” He makes me very uneasy — saying things like, “If you keep taking lettuce from the bottom of the carton, heads will roll.” Then, when I get to the checkout counter, there’s another guy asking, “Would you like me to put your corn in a bag, or should I box your ears?” It’s a pretty frightening experience overall. But there’s one place where grocery shopping is always a pleasant experience — at Mountain Fruit. That’s where customer service sets a whole new standard. At Mountain Fruit, competitive pricing, spacious aisles, and a phenomenal selection of food are what separate the soup from the nuts. With Chanukah right around the corner, the thought of latkes, jelly donuts and chocolate coins is making my stomach rumble. So I was thrilled to hear about Mountain Fruit’s latest addition: a brand-new, second store right across from the first, filled to the brim with Chanukah paraphernalia. It’s a Chanukah Super Store! You can find everything and anything relevant to the Festival of Lights at

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

this delightful enclave. There are games and toys ad infinitum; enough menorahs and candles to light up every night of the year; nosh and nuts and platters and party accessories; and dozens of dreidlach to drei anyone ah kup. If you love all things Chanukah, you’re gonna love this 7,000-square-foot mega-store that’s geared toward gifts and gelt. That’s where I plan to stock up on everything I need for the holiday. Whenever I need to come up with an idea for a quick and easy supper, I use Mountain Fruit as my inspiration. Maybe it’s the array of colors, textures and aromas that assail my senses as soon as I walk in. Or maybe it’s the quantity and quality of the appetizing ingredients that call to my inner cook, encouraging me to give them each a try. Their frozen foods, dairy products and bakery goods all tempt me equally. Whatever the lure, Mountain Fruit is the epicurean’s choice for everything on my shopping list. Mountain Fruit offers the effortless ease and convenience of finding everything under one roof. There’s no need to shlep from store to store searching for paper goods, produce, fish, meat and sundries. It’s a whole lot more practical, and more efficient, to buy everything I need at this one clean, welcoming location. Take their fruit and veggie section, for instance. Bursting with flavor and ripeness, it’s guaranteed to

There are games and toys ad infinitum; enough menorahs and candles to light up every night of the year whet my taste buds. And with six butchers on premises cutting their own meat — which arrives daily from the market — there’s a varied variety of chicken, turkey, steak roast, veal and more to feed the kosher carnivorous appetite. Or, if fish is one’s favored fare, the display at Mountain Fruit is swimmingly sensational. At Mountain Fruit, the scrumptious-looking and delicioustasting takeout menu makes decision making very difficult: you’ll want to order everything in sight. Every dish is cooked on premises, and there are no additives or preservatives on their list of ingredients — only the very best in wholesome, nourishing, great food. And now, there’s even more to love. Mountain Fruit recently extended their takeout department to double its original size! These days, the display is twofold as tantalizing and doubly delectable. I once went to a grocery store at 6 p.m. and found the owner just closing up. Very disappointed, I pointed out, “But the sign on your window says you’re open 12 hours!” The man nodded. “I know, but it doesn’t say 12 hours straight!” Well, you don’t have to worry about going hungry at Mountain Fruit. They’re open late every night of the week, and Friday until two hours before the zman. Visit their website any time of day or night, or email, fax or phone in your orders for lightning fast delivery. With so many ways to contact them, your order will reach their sales staff at virtually any given time.

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December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

B”H

‫שומר שבת‬

Elie Furst elie@plazaautoleasing.com

Abe Gruenbaum abe@plazaautoleasing.com

A Jew Worthy of Receiving Kvittelach

An interview with Reb Eliyahu Herman Debbie Shapiro

efore Rav Yoel Teitelbaum, ztz”l, the Satmar Rav, left Eretz Yisrael to make his home in America, his devoted chassid Reb Asher Zelig Margolis asked him, “Rebbe, now that you are leaving us, to whom shall we give our kvittels?” “Go into any shul,” Reb Yoelish replied, “and look for a Jew with a number on his arm. A Jew like that, who still puts on tefillin after going through the war, is worthy of receiving your kvittels.”

Photos By Avraham Zuroff 46

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

Rav Yoel TeiTelbaum, zTz”l, The SaTmaR Rav

A Hidden Tzaddik Over the years, I had heard rumors of a hidden tzaddik who sits in a tiny tailor shop just down the street from the Prima Palace Hotel. Someone even pointed out his store to me, but it wasn’t until last week that I finally got up the courage to enter and request a berachah, and, being a writer and journalist, a story. Reb Eliyahu Herman looks like everyone’s favorite zeideh. Beardless, with a large knitted kippah, he doesn’t fit the stereotype image of a tzaddik. But his mesiras nefesh for the mitzvah of tefillin saved thousands — yes, thousands — of Jews from death. Born and raised in Budapest, Reb Eliyahu was fifteen years old when the Germans occupied Hungary. Although the countries were allies, it wasn’t until the very tail end of the war, on March 14, 1944, with Operation Margarethe, that German forcefully took over the Hungarian government, and Hungarian Jews began to feel the full force of the Holocaust. Within days of the occupation, Eichmann came to Budapest to institute the Final Solution. Every day over 12,000 Jews were shipped to Auschwitz, where most were sent directly to the gas chambers. The change was so sudden,

A Reunion with the Klein Brothers A few years ago, Reb Eliyahu’s story appeared on a television program about the Holocaust. The following day, he received a phone call from a stranger. “My grandfather was one of the Klein brothers who joined you in your escape from Gunskirchen,” he said. A few weeks later, Reb Eliyahu and the two brothers met for the first time in over 60 years.

caption caption caption. Caption Credit

and so drastic, that the Jews of Hungary were completely unprepared. “Yes, we had heard rumors of the atrocities taking place across the border, but we really thought they were exaggerations. We were totally unprepared for what would soon become our new reality. “Rav Aharon of Belz escaped Galicia together with his brother, the Bilgoray Rav, and was living in the apartment adjacent to our yeshivah. I was zocheh to receive a personal berachah from him, and” — at this, his words falter — “I am sure it is in that zechus that I was saved, and that I was able to keep my tefillin with me, even while in the Gehinnom of Mauthausen and Gunskirchen, two of the worst spots on the face of the earth.” I shudder at their mere mention. Before Reb Eliyahu can continue, the door to his shop is pushed open and a tall, elderly rabbinical figure enters. It is Rav Naftali Porush, one of the heads of the Agudah in Eretz Yisrael. He takes one look at me, perched on a backless wooden stool, my small laptop balanced on a pile of long black reichelach waiting to be repaired, and smiles. “A tayere Yid… Reb Eliyahu’s a tayere Yid… All the gedolei Yisrael used to have their suits sewn davka at his shop.”

Reb Eliyahu smiles and the two men speak for a few minutes about the daily shiur that Rav Porush delivers and that Reb Eliyahu attends. The moment Rav Porush leaves, Reb Eliyahu turns to me and smiles. “Look at me, a sheigetz” — his grin widens — “with my knitted kippah and short-sleeved striped shirt. But it doesn’t matter. My knitted kippah, his black velvet one, this hat, that hat — we’re all Yidden, and limud Torah unites us.”

They Tried to Warn Us

Reb Eliyahu continues his story: “There were fifteen Polish refugees in my yeshivah. They had tried to alert us to what was happening across the border. The Belzer Rebbe’s gabbai, Reb Dovid Shapiro, also tried to warn us, but we could not believe them. We were living in an illusionary world, and we couldn’t imagine that such horrors were possible. But it wasn’t long until we learned otherwise. “When the Germans arrived, our rebbe, Rav Chaim Alter Berkowitz, Hy”d, instructed us to close our Gemaras and return home. Rushing through the streets, I saw a sight that to this day still horrifies me. Soldiers with guns were prod-

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UnmanneD WaRfaRe taKeS to tHe SKieS arari says that it’s ironic that the UAV project succeeded while the Lavis, which were considered easier to develop, failed. “At the same time, there weren’t any drones anywhere and we had to create something out of nothing. We were stubborn despite their laughing at us. They told us that we’re kids playing with toys. Now look where the Lavi has gone and where the drones have gone,” Harari clarified. The first time that Israel used UAV in warfare was in the first Lebanon war of 1982. Israel’s first UAV, the Oriole, whet the appetite of the Israeli Air Force. “The Oriole knew how to fly for just four hours and its total weight was about 485 pounds. Its camera weighed 55 pounds. When we wanted to enhance the scope of the next vessel, we had to build a new plane, much larger. It’s all about development,” Harari recalls. As a world leader in UAVs, Israel prides itself at being at the top of a list of the world’s largest arms exporters, together with the United States, France, Britain and Russia. Sales figures from the Ministry of Defense

They are referred to as drones and unmanned aerial vehicles (UAV). These modern-day sophisticated weapons are used for reconnaissance and even have the ability to shoot missiles at an enemy’s target. The earliest recorded use of a UAV for war fighting was in August 22, 1849. Austria attacked Venice, Italy, with five unmanned balloons. Each balloon was 23 feet in diameter and loaded with explosives. At least some of the balloons were launched from the Austrian ship Vulcano. The first use of the balloons in urban warfare wasn’t without danger. Some of the balloons worked. However, due to a shift in the winds a few balloons blew back over Austrian lines… After the development of airplanes for military use, the invention of an unmanned airplane wasn’t long in coming.

They told us that we’re kids playing with toys.

show that Israel’s security industries totaled $9.6 billion last year. The largest sales were from Elbit Systems and IAI, which compete neck-and-neck in the competitive world markets. IAI CEO Yitzchak Nissan says that Israel’s UAV projects keep moving forward, with increasingly

sophisticated features and applications. The models look like science fiction. But the IDF already employs them in fighting against terrorism, whether in Gaza or along the Lebanese border. Here is an overview of some of the unmanned vehicles developed in Israel:

at Sea, WitHoUt a Captain

he unmanned Silver marlin boat haS so far only been on display by its designer, Elbit Systems, mostly on dry land; most Western armies still prefer to be spectators of these unmanned nautical vessels and try to learn from the lessons of other manufacturers. In the era of security budget cuts in many countries, no one is waiting in line to invest capital in a system that is still in its experimental stages. Elbit Systems has patience and a lot of faith in the vessel, which can perform various tasks

autonomously, by remote control. Among other things, it is capable of detecting mines that endanger manned ships, searching for and rescuing shipwreck survivors, quickly approaching any suspicious vessel in rough sea conditions and providing intelligence about the intentions of those on board. A series of instruments developed by Electro-optics, the land and communications divisions of Elbit Systems, have been installed on the Silver Marlin and made her a fast

cruising combat system that has the ability to photograph, observe, identify, warn and — if needed — also open fire. The computerized system that operates the ship was originally developed for unmanned aircraft. Thus, the control station which sends orders to the ship can simultaneously control unmanned aircraft. A smaller version of the Silver Marlin is the Stingray, which resembles a jet ski. Officials in Elbit Systems, which developed the Stingray as well, say that the vessel is intended to protect sea ports, manage adverse events and assess damages. It can also be used to train gunners to shoot at a moving target. It’s quite possible that Israel will be among the first countries to implement unmanned ships in the ongoing security needs of the navy today, since the Israeli navy’s challenges are growing. They include intercepting flotillas, preventing arms smuggling into Gaza, preventing infiltration of terrorists and ship attacks inside Israel’s territorial waterways, and simultaneously expanding activities in the Red Sea area. This is especially true when gas explorations, which necessitate naval protection, are being conducted in the Mediterranean Sea.

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

oStilitieS during the Second intifada, analysis of battles in Afghanistan and Iraq and considering the needs of the future battlefield has accelerated IAI’s development of rotorcrafts in recent years. They say that what has already been developed is just the beginning. These rotorcrafts are quiet and sneaky vessels that can hover over alleys infested with terrorists and provide military forces — which are nearby and plan to break into those alleys — photos in real time of what is happening around the corner. One such vessel is the Sweeper, defined by developers in the aerospace industry as “a small platform hovering secretly for urban uses.” It weighs just 8.8 pounds and is suspended by two rotors. It is brought to the area by operating infantry or Special Forces, and takes off vertically near the scene of the activity. Like a conventional helicopter, it hovers above the area of activity and takes pictures. In a video that demonstrates its operation, it appears hovering over two suspects who are having a conversation. They

in tHe a tHe Wi iR, ng of tHe S SWeepe R subsequently go to a nearby building and ascend to a room on the second floor. The Sweeper follows them, looking into the window and constantly broadcasting their pictures. IAI officials state that the Sweeper can hover for half an hour and that its camera can broadcast both day and night. The Sweeper isn’t alone: The IAI unveiled last year the Bat, which carries a camera that broadcasts real-time intelligence to forces in the field. The Bat receives its power supply from a cable connected to a vehicle on the ground. The continuous energy supply allows it to operate without any time limitation. IAI officials say that the vessel can be deployed in different scenarios within a minute and then get the first pictures from an altitude of 33 feet. For more complex missions that take place on more extensive terrain, IAI

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

These rotorcrafts are quiet and sneaky vessels that can hover over alleys infested with terrorists. engineers offer the Cheetah, a pilotless plane that can take off and fly horizontally. Like a helicopter, the Leopard can also hover in place for several minutes when needed.

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iSrael export Institute hosted Israel’s first international conference in homeland security. This was an attempt to expose security officials and organizations to Israeli technologies that can be used to protect their countries’ infrastructure such as airports, power plants, seaports, nuclear reactors, borders and more. Countries have decided to invest in their homeland security operations following the terror attacks of September 11, 2001.

Among the most prominent developments presented to the conference attendees was the Amstaff, an unmanned robotic vehicle invented by Amos Goren, a former Mossad agent. Now Goren is trying to promote the marketing of the tool through the Automotive Industries Company in Nazareth, having already demonstrated its abilities to several procurement delegations of police and organizational security from various countries. He said that the vehicle is part of a fleet of the same type of vehicles that can cover large areas of territory near the protected sites. The vehicles can quickly intercept any invader, broadcast a picture to the control room from afar, and wait for the appropriate command, whether to order it to retreat or open fire. Goren says that five of the Amstaffs are enough to protect the Ben-Gurion International Airport. The Israel Defense Ministry’s Director General Udi Shani recently vis-

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

ited the Automotive Industries plant in Nazareth and was impressed with Goren’s vehicle, which was presented as a solution to protecting the long and breached border between Israel and Egypt. Shani promised to consider it. Before Goren invented the Amstaff, IAI and Elbit Systems decided to cooperate by establishing the G-NIUS Autonomous Unmanned Ground Vehicles. Through their joint venture, they developed and manufactured the Guardium unmanned combat vehicle. This unmanned vehicle can travel at up to 50 miles per hour. Since 2008, the IDF has used these vehicles in its patrol missions along the border fence in Gaza. The Guardium can withstand a total incendiary charge of 661 pounds. The Guardium also has advanced sensors and cameras that allow it to perform imagery intelligence gathering operations. “It’s very tough in the area of unmanned vehicles,” says Yossi Ackerman, the president of Elbit Systems. “The world has still not realized their hidden potential. The IDF has several vehicles, but the gap between the mass and scale of the aerial vehicles to the land vehicles is a 15-year gap. We still haven’t succeeded in convincing potential customers that the vehicle is worthwhile from an economic perspective. And it’s worth remembering that the field people are considered more conservative than the airmen: Every decision of theirs is about the purchase of hundreds of armored manned vehicles, and it’s hard for them to change combat doctrines.”

e C n e g i l l : e e t n i in C i D e le m U m g anD in y l f tHe

n the area of unmanned helicopterS, we’re still very young and there’s plenty to do there,” says Major Gil, deputy squadron commander of the Israeli Air Force drones. But I guess it’s going to change: a distance of a few seconds’ flight from the Palmachim base are the development teams of two different companies from Yavneh, the two unmanned systems operate on the principle of vertical takeoff and landing, similar to a helicopter. The first project, led by Aeronautics Defense Systems, is an unmanned helicopter, called the Picador. The helicopter is designed to take off from battleships on intelligence gathering and observation missions. A prototype of the Picador is currently displayed in one of the company’s hangars. It is gray, compact and intriguing in its shape, and still far from a finished product being offered to the market. At Urban Aeronautics, helicopter pilot Dr. Rafi Yoeli is developing a flying tool

he believes will redefine the air industry: He is reserving the first stage for the Air-Mule, which he has been diligently constructing since 2007. The Air-Mule is intended for evacuating the wounded and transporting ammunition and food provisions to combat zones. “The number one killer by helicopters is the rotor blades’ hitting objects,” he explains the considerations that led him and the development team of the Air-Mule to implant the rotor inside the hull, which would allow it to fly within ravines, near buildings and treetops, and to land with flexibility in almost any place. For Yoeli, the Air-Mule is the answer for evacuating the wounded under enemy fire. Two air-conditioned evacuation cabins for the wounded are located on the sides of the vessel. Above the wounded is a camera that records his condition and transmits data in real time to a nearby clinic. In cases where his medical condition allows him to communicate, he

may do so through a microphone and an audio system installed in the cabin. The Medical Corps and the Administration for Research and Development of Weapons and Technological Infrastructure have been accompanying Yoeli’s project for four years. In the background, several external companies are investing in it. Until now, investors have spent about $13 million in the project. Soon Urban Aeronautics will go for another round of looking for investors. Meanwhile, the Air-Mule can soar up to two meters, which it did during an experiment in central Israel, when it was firmly anchored to the ground due to restrictions of the Civil Aviation authority. Next year, it will be taken for a less restricted test flight in the Negev. “We’ll succeed. It’s clear to me. It’s not possible otherwise,” says Yoeli. And who exactly will be the wounded soldier who agrees to fly without a pilot? It’s still not so clear. But people were also once afraid to use automatic elevators.

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

S K C a t t a R o t a n i m o D tHe iai and elbit SyStemS are competing in the UAV market, the young Aeronautics Company from Yavneh is trying to take its own bite of the pie by building its own UAV, the Dominator 2. This vessel isn’t designed to be unmanned. So far, it has accumulated tens of thousands of flight hours flying around the world. Its pilot has always held onto its flight controls and taken another three passengers with him. But then Aeronautics CEO Avi Leumi realized that it was possible to take the Austrian AD-42 plane, which has proven its ability and reliability, and convert it into a leader in the field without having to invest capital and years of research. The result, a UAV that weighs about two tons —more than twice the weight of the classic UAVs of hile

IAI and Elbit — driven by two motors, and the electrical power they produce is capable of carrying a variety of cargo weighing 450 pounds. It can remain airborne without interruption for 30 hours and fly to a maximum height of about 30,000 feet. “The platform has all the credentials, and we just dressed it with the infrastructure that makes it unmanned, with a flight management system by means of an electronic card that we have developed,” Leumi said. “It allows the aircraft to perform maritime patrol operations and intelligence gathering at any range, thanks to a satellite communication system that we’re developing.” Aeronautics developed in recent months a production line of the modern UAV, and is now waiting for

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

orders. As far as the IDF is concerned, it prefers two other vessels. Until the IDF’s decision makers recognize the potential in Leumi’s vessel, he hopes to sell it to security organizations and armies around the world, also for protecting borders, for reconnaissance over sensitive infrastructure facilities, for intelligence gathering in a large area and more. After the orders will begin to flow, Leumi aspires to build a large manufacturing plant in southern Israel. Nevertheless, he knows that the way to his clients’ heartstrings (and wallets) somewhere in Brazil, Canada or Singapore is through the IDF commanders, by promoting sales in the best way for Israeli companies engaged in the military field: the Israeli Air Force. n

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England. The doctors told her that her son would need treatment for scoliosis. Like many of us, she didn't take it seriously and let it go. This past year she went to visit him in England, and she was in shock! His posture was so bent over that his head was always looking downward. "Oh how I wish I had taken care of this

earlier!" In the meantime, she has three other children who are also developing postural issues, and she's bringing them all into the office for our new computerized posture analysis. According to a report from the Mayo Clinic in November 2000, "Forward head posture leads to long-term muscle strain, disk herniations, arthritis and pinched nerves." Don't let this happen to you or your

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Personalities

Powerful StorieS, Hunting through ancient manuscripts,

rabbi racHmiel tobeSman

has uncovered hundreds of old Jewish stories. without any modern multimedia — using only the modulation of his voice — rabbi tobesman transfixes his audience as he uses these stories to educate and inspire his listeners.

Dini Harris

He old adage claimS tHat neceSSity iS tHe motHer of invention. For Rabbi Rachmiel Tobesman, necessity led him to invent a profession and a lifelong passion. The necessity arose during one of his first jobs, teaching English language in a Satmar yeshivah. Rabbi Tobesman frankly states that the job was difficult. “It was very hard for the boys to understand English, since, as Satmar chassidim, their primary language was Yiddish, so I started to tell them stories. The boys were enraptured. They were so excited about the stories that they would show up at my apartment on Shabbos for more. Eventually our Shabbos story-telling sessions became so big that we moved it to the beis midrash.” The success of his first storytelling venture led Rabbi Tobesman to a captivating career. Instead of settling himself down at a cold office desk, Rabbi Tobesman utilizes the power of stories in the multiple noteworthy projects that he coordinates.

colorful reSume Over the phone, Rabbi Tobesman speaks softly and diffidently. When asked about specific projects, he downplays his involvement in them. However, his resume exudes vivid colors, providing a more vibrant picture of his variegated activities. Soon after Rabbi Tobesman’s stint as a teacher-turned-storyteller in the Satmar yeshivah, he collaborated with the educational department of a local secular museum to create a position for himself telling stories about the exhibitions.

tHe JewiSH boy Scout way for everything - even death”. Another interesting position was his stint as a chaplain for the Boy Scouts of America at the Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico. Though most of his constituents were not Jewish, they were all captivated by his stories. Rabbi Tobesman remembers, “So many people starting coming to the chapel, even though they weren’t Jewish. They wanted to hear the Jewish stories.”

The success of his stories in New Mexico led Rabbi Tobesman to a storytelling venture that he still maintains today. “My daughter was amazed that so many non-Jews wanted to hear my stories, so she started a blog called the ‘Story Tour.’ For homework, she made me write down some of my stories. Well, she hasn’t let me off the hook yet. I write a story or two a week for her. There are about 150 stories on the site already, and I haven’t run out of stories yet.” Currently, Rabbi Tobesman is the primary rabbi/educator for Project Shalom, a Jewish educational resource center that provides educational resources, maps, stories and even lesson plans for classroom teachers. The Project Shalom staff also runs workshops and special programs in classrooms throughout the Baltimore area.

deatH and dying — tHe JewiSH way In tandem with his lively activities, Rabbi Tobesman is concerned with death and dying. He is a senior member of the Baltimore community chevrah kaddisha. Tying his educational background with his involvement in the chevrah kaddisha, he created the Chevra Ed project, which provides resources regarding the Jewish hashkafah towards death and dying. Succinctly stated, the organization’s motto is “A Jewish way for everything — even death.” Tying his involvement in the chevrah kaddisha and educational background together with his passion for storytelling, Rabbi Tobesman wrote a book called A Time to Mourn, A Time to Comfort, to help children with the grieving process. Rabbi Tobesman feels that this book has filled a void. “Most youth today don’t know anything about death. Everyone forgets to teach about it. They only learn about it when they experience it. The book walks them through the process, starting from the moment of death, all the way through. “My book is unique in two ways. First of all, it’s hands-on for the child. There are materials for adults to use to teach the children, but this book is for the kids themselves. Secondly, most materials deal with only the immediate shock of death. But my book deals with everything; Shabbosos, yamim tovim. Children re-grieve. Let’s say their parent dies Shavous time — they have to deal with that. But then on Sukkos, when they realize that their parent won’t be with them for this yom tov, they grieve again.” Rabbi Tobesman also created a teacher’s edition of A Time to Mourn, A Time to Comfort, and has written a companion book to help children whose parents are going through separation and divorce. To different extents, all of Rabbi Tobesman’s projects involve stories and storytelling. Over the years he was an assistant department head in a mechinah high school and a featured storyteller for the Coalition for the Advancement of Jewish Education.

tHe QueSt for StorieS Rabbi Tobesman is very specific regarding the type of stories that he tells over. “Mainly I tell older stories — up to the Middle Ages. I generally do not tell over chassidishe stories; my stories predate them.” Rabbi Tobesman has a seemingly endless repertoire of stories, and when I asked him for a story about stories, a story glibly skipped over the telephone line, along with the comment, “Oh, I have many of those.” The story kept me transfixed, but still I had a niggling question. Where do these stories come from? How come I, and most people I know, aren’t familiar with these stories from our rich Jewish history? The question detonated Rabbi Tobesman’s passion. “I hang out in libraries. I’ve found that the computer is not a good tool for me. Most of what I’m looking for is not on the computer; it hasn’t been catalogued yet. Some are still in manuscript form. I’ve been to several university libraries which have Jewish medieval manuscripts. I have contacts in the British Museum and the Vatican Library, which still have books from that period of time. “I generally look for medieval stories; they’re fantastic, and no one tells them anymore. Some of them are based on Gemara.” “But where are these stories? Most of the sofrim weren’t writing storybooks?” I asked. “Oh, yes they were,” came

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is from, it will have different heroes. Stories from Central Asia and Sephardic countries feature Moshe Rabbeinu as the hero. In European countries, the hero is almost exclusively Eliyahu HaNavi.”

Story PreServation Rabbi Tobesman believes that there are endless uses for stories, but they must be preserved properly so that their full benefit can be realized. “I personally don’t believe that stories were meant to be written down, they were meant to be heard. That’s why all the stories on my blog are short. “Words on their own are missing life. It’s when you tell them over that they gain spirit. You can pick up a siddur and read the Kol Nidrei prayer whenever you want — but when you hear it sung in shul, it’s completely different. The tune gives it power. The same thing is true about storytelling. “You also have to tell the stories over in the right context. Sometimes a storyteller will tell over a midrash from Megillas Esther and refer to ‘Mordecai’ — that’s not Jewish. It’s just not right. Or they’ll take a story with a Yiddish base and give it over using the Sephardic accent. “Not long ago, I was at a school program where a musician

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played a Yiddish song with the words, ‘Un der rebbe lernt kleyne kinderlekh dem alef-beyz.’ The principal of the school stopped him and said that it should be ‘alef bet.’ But he was wrong. Stories need to be told in the proper context.” Rabbi Tobesman sees endless uses for stories. As a matter of course, he uses a story to illustrate his point. “Once there was a famous rabbi who used to tell stories all the time. The scholars in the community came to him to complain. ‘Why don’t you teach us Torah?’ The rabbi answered, ‘I came to teach you Torah, but you understood it not — therefore I tell you stories.”

liSten and learn During our telephone conversation, I sat mesmerized for a good few minutes, listening to one of Rabbi Tobesman’s stories. I couldn’t put my finger on the quality that made the story so riveting, but in the privacy of my own home, I sat with a silly grin on my face, reveling in the all-encompassing power of his tale. I could list many messages that I gleaned from that particular story — the power of teshuvah, the importance of following one’s individual path of avodas Hashem, the power of a tzaddik — and I’m not sure if Rabbi Tobesman’s list is the same as mine. Following this equation, we would come up with “countless stories equal countless lessons.” Rabbi Tobesman believes that stories are an underused tool that can help everyone in their avodas Hashem. Next time you hear someone start telling a story, draw up a chair and listen to every word, and maybe the story will succeed in inspiring you.

sought the knowledge for his own glory. He sought Chanah for her wealth and influence. His love was for himself and not her. Everyone gathered to celebrate Chanah’s wedding. The happiness and joy went into the night with dancing and blessings. But, alas, death struck the young groom before morning and so the wedding day was followed by a funeral. In the presence of all the friends of her dear parents, Chanah cried, “Three times have I married and each time I have lost my husband. Never again will I marry, for I will not again lead my beloved to death. G-d’s hand is stretched out against me for some unknown sin. Three times was I married in order to increase the joy of my dear parents, but this joy has been changed three times into heartbreaking sorrow for all of us. From this day on, I will remain a widow. Every day will I weep and pray to the Holy One, blessed be He, to forgive me the sin which has cost so dearly.” Her friends held their peace and left the sorrowing girl and her parents to comfort one another as best they could. Dovid had an old classmate and dear friend named Shmuel, who lived in a far-off country. For many years they had not heard from one another. In their youth they had parted, each bent on seeking his fortune. As we have seen, Dovid had become very wealthy. Shmuel, however, although blessed with a worthy wife and ten children, had remained a poor man. He and his oldest son collected wood in the forest near their hut. Sometimes they were lucky and sold all the wood that they had gathered. One day they failed to find any customers, and when they returned home at night they were penniless. The result was that next day the entire family was without food. The next day Shmuel and his eldest son, Yosef, went to the market¬place to sell the wood, but again without any success. They resolved to spend the night in the forest rather than see the misery of the starving children in their unhappy home. Shmuel and Yosef prayed to G-d for help. After a while Yosef turned to his father and suggested that the best thing to do would be to go to his rich friend, Dovid, and to ask his assistance. Shmuel gladly agreed to this plan. Early the next morning they returned home and told their dear ones about the plan which they had adopted. Yosef took leave of his beloved parents, sisters and brothers and set out on his journey, strengthened by the prayers and blessings of all the family. When his father’s friend saw him, he, his wife and daughter rejoiced with him very much and asked about his father, mother and siblings. When they heard of the terrible poverty in Yosef’s home they immediately sent their trusty servant to help the family with food, money and clothing. Yosef wished to return home with the servant, but he was persuaded by Dovid to stay for a short visit. His warm presence soon brought comfort and happiness to the sad Chanah. Often they sat together in the beautiful garden around

Dovid’s house and read and spoke about the stirring stories of the Torah and other holy books. A few weeks of unclouded happiness soon passed by, and Yosef thought that the time had come to return home. He went to Dovid one morning and said to him, “Let me ask you, dear friend of my father, to do me a favor, which you can readily promise to do. You have given me so much already. I shall never forget all your love and kindness. One thing only is still wanting to complete my heart’s desire. Well do I know how generously you have assisted my beloved father and mother. You have fed and clothed my poor sisters and brothers. You have kept me here for many a happy day as your guest. If you do not promise to do this one favor which I am about to ask, I must at once leave you and return to my own home, for I fear I have already stayed here too long.” “How can I refuse you your request, dear Yosef?” cried Dovid. “I faithfully promise on my word of honor to do what you ask, for I know that you are a good and noble lad with an honest and kind heart. I am sure you would never ask for anything which is neither right nor just.” “That is so,” said Yosef. “Now, dear friend of my father, since you have given me your promise, listen to my request. I know you do not really wish me to return home. I will agree to stay with you on one condition and make your home mine also.” “What is the condition?” cried Dovid impatiently. “The condition,” continued Yosef, “is that you give me your consent to marry your dear daughter Chanah. When we are married, we will live with you and comfort you and your dear wife for the rest of your lives.” Dovid’s face be-

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came white and with tears in his eyes he shook his head. “What you are asking is impossible. Do you not know, dear Yosef, that Chanah has already been married three times and each time her husband died in the night following the wedding? Yosef, beloved son of my dear friend, please do not insist, for you are really asking me for leave to die, and I dare not consent. Please do not try to persuade me to agree to your proposal. If you do, it will be to your own hurt.” “But you have given me your word of honor to grant my request,” said Yosef, “and your word is your bond. Well do I know the sad story of dear Chanah’s weddings. I am full aware that the three husbands who in turn married her died in the first night of their marriage. The fault was not Chanah’s. She is so good and loving, so true and innocent. I trust in the Holy One, blessed be He, with all my heart and soul, and I will gladly risk my life and happiness in marrying her. The love of Holy One, blessed be He, will shield me from all harm. Have no fear, give your consent and we shall all be happy.” With quivering voice, Dovid addressed the young man, saying, “Yosef, I love you as though you were my son. Listen well to what I am about to say. If by marrying my daughter you think you will obtain her fortune, tell me if this be the case, truthfully, and I will satisfy you and redeem my pledge by giving you her dowry. Nay, I will double the amount if you agree not to wed my child. If this should not satisfy you, name the sum of money you desire, and if I possess it, it

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shall be yours. I will gladly give it with a good will, only do not risk your precious life by running into danger. You have been a source of real comfort and happiness to us all ever since you set foot in our house. Do not, I beseech you, plunge us all into indescribable misery by risking your life. To marry Chanah is to die.” “Dear friend of my father!” Yosef cried. “Do you really think for one moment that I wish to marry Chanah for the sake of money? Do not even think that I would take a single coin if I am not allowed to marry her. I do not think of money or worldly things now, for I know that love is the best of all treasures. In Chanah have I found my chosen one. Fate is not against us, for I feel that we are destined to make one another happy. What is more, in our happiness you and your dear wife will find your true peace and joy.” Seeing the foolishness of continuing the discussion, Dovid consented to carry out his promise, and said that he would at once tell the news to Chanah and her mother. No sooner had he related the proposal to his daughter than she began to weep bitterly and raised her eyes toward heaven and prayed, “Master of the Universe, let Your hand strike me but do not have Yosef die through me.” Joyfully would she have suffered death sooner than see any harm befall Yosef, whom she loved with all her heart. She knew how noble was his character, and she realized that nothing would induce him to change his mind. She felt that she was helpless and that there was nothing to be done except to put her life and that of her beloved Yosef in the hands of G-d. The news of their engagement soon spread in the town where they lived, and the friends of Chanah’s parents came to wish the couple joy and good luck, thinking that their congratulations would gladden the hearts of Chanah and of her parents. Yosef’s usual good humor was intensified by the happy event. He sought out the poor, to whom he gave gifts of money, well remembering the poverty in which he had lived until he came to his father’s friend. A few weeks later, the wedding ceremony was fixed to be celebrated. Once again Chanah put on her bridal gown, thinking all the while of the terrible misfortunes she had experienced. At last the hour came when she stood with Yosef at her side beneath the chuppah. Just as everyone was gathering under the chuppah, an old man, unknown to all the assembled guests, approached Yosef and asked him to give him a moment’s attention because he had to tell him something of great import. Yosef immediately turned aside with the stranger and asked him if he required any help. The stranger

replied, “I come to help you, for I know that you have a good and kind heart. I ask you to remember that wealth will not avail in the hour of your need, charity alone will save you and deliver you from death. 2 Be hospitable this day and invite to your wedding feast the poor who will bless you for your kindness. This is all I have to say, and now let me go, for I wish you well.” The stranger was none other than Eliyahu HaNavi, the friend and comforter of all in trouble and distress. The wedding began, and the guests took their places at the feast. At the head of the table sat the bridegroom, and at his side was his beautiful bride. The guests began to eat and to drink, when all of a sudden there was seen at the door of the room a beggar in rags and tatters, his skin yellow and unwashed, his hair sticking up like spikes, barefoot and his stature bent. His eyes were flaming like fire, and as he entered a overwhelming silence fell upon the meal. Not a sound was heard within the room, all was hushed in strange suspense, until Yosef cried, in a loud and fearless voice, “Come here, good friend, you are most welcome at this, my marriage feast. At my side shall you sit, for here all are most heartily welcome.” Yosef told the servants to go to the door of the house and to invite all the poor who passed by to join his guests. The beggar went to the seat next to Yosef and sat down. Yosef waited on his unknown guest and gave him of the best of the foods and drink. When the banquet was over, the bride arose and went to her chamber. Yosef arose likewise and was about to follow her when the beggar placed his hand on Yosef’s shoulder and said in a whisper, “I must have just one word with you in private, please. I cannot stay here much longer, but I have to tell you why I am with you today.” Yosef led him to an empty room and requested him to be seated. After a moment or two had gone by the stranger began to speak as follows, “My friend, I am truly sorry for your own and also for your dear wife’s sake, but I have come here on a very sad errand. I am sent to you against my will. It is Highest Judge who has sent me here to take you to Him. Prepare now to leave the world and all its joys.” Yosef looked at his guest without fear, and in a very calm voice he said, “If this be the will of the Holy One, blessed be He, so be it done in love and obedience. All the same, I ask you to grant me a delay of just one year in happiness with my wife, and then I promise to go with you.” “No, my good friend, it cannot be,” cried the Angel of Death, who was disguised as the beggar. “Not even a month, not even the seven days of rejoicing given to the bride and bridegroom, not even one day’s delay, but this very day must you die, even as the former three husbands of your beloved wife.” Yosef quickly replied, “G-d’s word is true, and He is true. If you cannot grant my request to delay your task, give me leave to go to my wife and bid her farewell.” “This will I gladly allow,” the angel sadly replied, “in return for your kindness to me this day. You knew me not, yet have you treated me as a friend.” The angel spoke so gently because his heart was full of sorrow. He knew that Yosef was a good and true man, and it 2

Mishlei 10:20, Bava Basra 10a.

grieved him to lead him through the valley of the shadow of death. Yosef went quickly to his wife’s chamber and entered. He found her crying and praying with a broken heart. “Quick, my beloved,” he whispered, “my time is very short, I cannot stay here, I must leave and go far away with the strange beggar. He has come to fetch me. Let me bless you for your unfailing sweetness and love.” “If you must leave,” she cried, “I will go with you, for now we are one and nothing shall ever part us, not even cruel death itself.” She told him to lead her to the beggar. When she saw him, she said, “Stranger! You are still our guest beneath our roof. If you would repay our hospitality this day just grant me one little favor. Take me with my husband to the Eternal Judge and I will ask Him whether His holy word in the Law is true. Is it not written: ‘And what man is there that has betrothed a wife, and has not taken her, let him go and return to his house, lest he die in the battle and another man take her,’3 and is it not further stated, ‘When a man has taken a bride, he shall not go out with the army, nor shall he be required for any business, he shall be free for one year for his home, and he shall gladden his wife whom he has married’?4 The Holy One, Blessed be He, is true and His Torah is true, and if you take the soul of my husband, you will be turning the Torah into a falsehood. If you accept my words, it is well, but if not, then come with me to the Great Court before the Judge of all judges.” “This I cannot do,” cried the angel. “I will go for you and present your request and will bring you the answer from the heavenly court.” The angel added, “I will join in the choir of angels who praise G-d morning and evening, and I will put your question before the Father of Mercy who dwells with the meek and the brokenhearted. I hope for the sake of both of you that Yosef’s life will be spared.” In a moment the angel was gone and in another moment he returned. His face was shining with heavenly light and his voice was sweet and soft. “Listen,” he said. “Good friends! I rejoice to tell you that your prayers have been heard. Live well and long together, enjoy your life. The other husbands died because they married not for love, but for greed of gold. They were hard-hearted, scorning the poor and the weak. You shall live to help others to live and to prosper. Farewell!” And in a second the angel was seen no more. The bride and bridegroom spent that night in giving praise to G-d for His love and mercy. The parents, however, were weeping throughout the long night, while their friends had prepared the grave for Yosef’s body. At dawn, everyone rushed to fill in the unused grave. In this plot they planted seeds of daffodils, so that in time to come they might look upon the beautiful flower as an emblem of the Divine Mercy. Yosef continued to be charitable and kind to all who needed his help. Whenever the people saw him, they were wont to exclaim, “Truly charity delivers from death.” (Midrash Tanchuma, Ha’azinu, 7) 3 4

Devarim 20:7. Ibid 24:5. December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

Fiction

Y NAME IS HERMAN LEVIN. I MYSELF don’t know what to think of the story I’m going to tell you. It happened last week. I was walking along Sortedam Pond, the first of the Copenhagen Lakes. It was a beautiful autumn day in the year 1987. The sun was glistering on the water and igniting the golden, crimson and auburn leaves left on the trees lining the lake or scattered on the sandy path. I was in a good mood; sunshine always makes me happy. I walked up the small slope from the lakefront and continued past the French Café. To this day, I have no idea why I didn’t walk right in. Here, I could sit in peace at my favorite corner table and enjoy the full, breathtaking view of the immense lake and the distant Victorian buildings, rising on the western horizon. Instead, I walked on, not even having anything specific on my agenda. I was just out on an afternoon walk after work. I am a professor of mathematics by profession, but I went into bussiness immediately after graduation. Now, at the age of thirty-five, I own a pretty successful statistics company. We serve some of the largest firms all over Europe.

I I crossed Oesterbro Street and walked along the broad pavement. I passed the end of an alley lined with old cobblestones. The toppled, polished stones reminded me of something far back, but before I could remember what, my attention was drawn to Antonio’s Antiques, a small furniture store. I had never entered it before, because it had always looked overcrowded and disordered. I love the large, elegant furniture stores in the center of Copenhagen, around The King’s New Square. But this day Antonio’s Antiques appeared different. Something beckoned me forward. It took me a moment to realize that it was a soft glow that seemed to radiate from two crystal chandeliers hanging from the low ceiling. It added a shade of mystery and abundance to the cramped furniture. Without hesitation, I entered the store.

Shabbos THE

TABLE NECHAMA BORNSTEIN

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II A small man sat in a huge, Baroque chair to my right. It was upholstered with burgundy and gilded brocade, running in broad stripes. The material was shabby and worn at the edges. The man, whom I judged to be of Italian origin based on the name of the store, wore a denim jacket, matching pants and expensive leather shoes. His thick, black hair was parted on the left, and his rather tanned face was mostly taken up by a huge moustache. “Welcome!” he called out in broken Danish. “Antonio has everything you need! Something special you’re looking for, a mirror, a chest or a Rococo sofa?” His question made me slightly uncomfortable. I hadn’t entered the store with the intention of buying anything. But at the same time, I felt strangely at home inside its cramped interior. To my surprise, I didn’t want to leave. That moment another costumer arrived. “Please feel at home and look around,” Antonio encouraged me, while turning to a middle-aged, very blond and nervous looking man.

III That was when I saw the entrance to the back room. I had at first thought that the soft glow that had drawn me to the store streamed from the two beautiful crystal chandeliers in the front room that had something Czech in their highly artistic and curved design. But now I saw that the velvet, comforting light burned from an unseen lamp inside the back room. I also noted that this room wasn’t crowded like that in the front. Whatever furniture was here had been pushed against the walls to make room for a huge, oval mahogany table in the middle. I stopped in the broad doorway. What follows now, no one has to believe. Normally, I wouldn’t believe it myself. I am a man of plain statistics. But since I saw it all with my own eyes, heard everything with my own ears and was wide awake, I have no way of denying it.

IV It didn’t happen in an instant. It sort of unfolded in a gentle flow of events. First, I noticed that many people were taking their seats on the high-backed, matching mahogany chairs lining the table. A white tablecloth was rolled over the large table surface; then two immense silver candelabra were placed on it by unseen hands. The tall, white candles were already lit. This was the source of the velvet light I had thought came from one, single lamp. I shivered; I had never liked supernatural things. But there wasn’t really anything scary about the table or the room. The people, now all seated, looked normal, too, though quite old-fashioned. They were talking animatedly, though in hushed voices. But they weren’t speaking Danish. At first, the language sounded broken and strange. But in a moment, it was as if I was swept inside its uneven flow and I understood it all.

At the end of the table sat a noble, older man. I looked closer. I recognized from his black hat, long side curls and beard that he was an Orthodox Jew, like those I often see walking in the center of Copenhagen, near Ole Suhrs Street or in the Botanical Gardens on Saturdays. I vaguely remembered my mother once saying that her mother had been Jewish. But she had told me in the same breath that it had nothing to do with us. What was it she’d added? Oh, yes, now I remembered. My grandmother’s name had been Martha, and she had died in the Auschwitz concentration camp. My mother hadn’t been there, herself. I had asked her where she had been then, in the meantime. But her face had looked as if a black cloud had rushed over it, so I didn’t ask anymore and soon forgot all about the matter.

V “He should already have been here,” said a woman in a blue silk dress, a small, matching hat sitting askew on her blond hair. “Anna, one can’t be sure of anything in these terrible times,” the man next to her said. It looked as if they were married. The husband wore a white shirt and a brown cardigan. He took out a small skullcap from his breast pocket and placed it on his head. “It’s after curfew, and the Germans will shoot him if they see him,” a young man, also dressed in brown, entered the conversation. He sat at the left side of the table, close to where I stood in the double doorway. “It’s a great mitzvah to keep the Holy Shabbos,” the Orthodox man at the end of the table said. “It’s written in our holy books that a person on his way to do a mitzvah is never harmed.” The young man close to me shook his head with agitation. “Uncle Moshe!” he said, a note of respect still lingering deep in his voice. “It doesn’t seem that any mitzvah whatsoever has the power to keep away a screaming Nazi on patrol. Mitzvah or no mitzvah, he’ll shoot the Jew if he feels

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“What are you talking about?” the older like it. Just look at the Kaufmanns, who BUT NOW I man replied. were shot outside their house yesterday, SAW THAT “Let’s be honest!” the woman demandtwo minutes before eight when the curfew ed. “Martha was never easy to deal with. begins. No one dares to say a thing. Holland THE VELVET, She got married late and had a good job. is occupied, and for the Nazis, everything Who could beat her as a lawyer’s secretary? is allowed.” COMFORTING No one typed as fast as her, and without a Uncle Moshe looked at the young man single mistake. I don’t know how she ended with warm eyes. LIGHT BURNED up with someone like Kurt in the first place. “Hans, please,” he said with affection. His mother wasn’t even Jewish. He’s a good His dark brown eyes closed for a moment. FROM AN UNSEEN man, but he was never able to keep a job “The Kaufmanns were shot because they and make a normal salary. Nu, what does were Jews. Whether it was two minutes LAMP INSIDE THE it matter now? I heard he lost his job in the before or after eight is irrelevant. . . . It’s a postal service shortly after the occupation very great thing to die al kiddush Hashem.” BACK ROOM. in May 1940, when all Jews were banned “Uncle Moshe!” Hans cried out with from civil services. He might not be Jewish indignation. “It just doesn’t work anymore. according to halachah, but the Nazis don’t Torah, mitzvos and the Jewish people. The make such distinctions. According to them, chosen, holy protection is gone! All Amsterhe’s a Jew like all the rest of us. At first I’d dam has turned into a deadly trap for the hoped it might help Helga to have a nonJews!” Jewish father. Now I don’t even want to “Amsterdam,” I thought, “that’s where imagine what can have happened to her!” my family is from.” Now I remembered, I noted that a crystal bottle had been Herengracht Street. That was the only othplaced next to a tall silver cup before Uncle er thing my mother had ever told me. Moshe at the end of the table. Uncle Moshe nodded. “Let’s make Kiddush,” Uncle Moshe “That’s part of the kiddush Hashem,” he said softly. said quietly. No one heard him. “Wine!” Hans cried out. “The Nazis will “Just look at what happened to Markill us if they burst in here, just for possesstha,” a woman in a gray woolen dress broke ing a bottle of wine. Uncle Moshe, please!” in. She looked haggard, like an old maid, The older man smiled. and had the air of a schoolteacher, the hopelessly effective kind. “Don’t be afraid, Hans,” he said. “Soon you’ll understand.” “They took her to Amsterdam Main Station last year at this It was obvious that Hans didn’t like the turn of the convertime, then sent her by train to Westerbork. We all know it’s sation. The atmosphere around the table was getting tense, but an intern camp and that from there, the Jews are taken east, to everyone seemed to respect and adhere to the words of this Unthe concentration camps or to be shot. And Helga, Helga is in cle Moshe. I had never heard about him, but that didn’t mean hiding with the Van Sheik family. I don’t trust them. He’s a bemuch. I’d never heard anything about my family except for my lieving Catholic. But it’s said that his father is dealing with the Grandmother Martha having being killed in Auschwitz and the Nazis, to keep them safe.” name of their street in Amsterdam. This was getting interesting. It sounded like they were “Let’s wait for a few more minutes,” a tall and noble womspeaking about my family; my mother was from Amsterdam, an said, carrying in a tray with two braided loaves of bread. I her name was Helga and her mother’s name had been Martha. was sure the woman was Uncle Moshe’s wife. Her head was “Perhaps Kurt will finally show up and take responsibility covered with a turban that matched her simple brown dress. for his daughter,” said an older man seated on the right side of It was worn at the edges and buttoned up, almost beneath her the table. He was almost bald, and the black skullcap on his finely shaped chin. I noticed that she was very pale, like the few head added a prestigious look to his rather fragile frame. “I’d Orthodox women I had seen walking in measured distance of hoped that after the Nazis invaded Holland he would finally their husbands on Saturdays. I remembered that a worker in my wake up and feel some fatherly responsibility for his only office once said they’re so pale because they hardly leave their daughter.” houses. “Who would let him?” a woman right across from him, seatUncle Moshe nodded patiently. It looked like he had all the ed mostly in shadow, asked.

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lations, trying to order the world in numbers!” her opponent time in the world. The woman placed the tray with the braided lashed out. “The fact that you were an assistant accountant bebreads before him. Then she went to a counter along the wall fore the war won’t help anything now. Nu, for once just keep and pulled out a white cover. It was stitched with silvery Hequiet and don’t think so much! Too much thinking destroys all brew letters that I couldn’t read. They sparkled in the glow of the good left on Earth.” the candles. Tears were collecting in her sister’s large green eyes. She “I don’t think he’ll come,” said a short and rather heavy was the older of the two, but her younger sister appeared far woman whom I hadn’t noticed until then. She had a plain face her superior both in vocal strength and personal stature. and rather thin auburn hair. But her green eyes were large and The latter ignored the gathering tears. beautiful. No one seemed to take much notice of her. But in a “Uncle Moshe already told us to come here for a specific flash another woman I also hadn’t seen before, at the opposite reason,” she went on, but her voice was softer now. “Martha is side of the table, bent toward her. probably dead, and no one knows if Helga is still in hiding, or “You always favored Kurt over Martha, your own sister!” she even alive. So Uncle Moshe is right. The only one left is Helga’s yelled. “Wonder why?” son. If he doesn’t come to take this table, it will remain in the “What I said has nothing to do with Kurt,” the woman with hands of those Dutch neighbors forever, and nothing will be the beautiful green eyes said quietly. She was in her early forleft of our family. You agree? Everyone here knows that he can’t ties. marry and have a family without this table.” “It does!” the woman opposite her yelled. “It’s for Martha Her sister nodded. that we invited him here, but you would prefer he’d not come, “It just seems out of sync, time-wise,” she because of Kurt.” said in a hushed voice. “I mean, he’s not I wondered curiously who this “he” even born yet. Helga is only fourteen years was. Obviously, everyone around the table old.” was waiting for him. Uncle Moshe was listening, his eyes “Nu, girls!” Uncle Moshe mumbled now wet with tears, too. good-heartedly. “There’s no need to get so “Nu, girls,” he repeated with fatherly upset. Let Martha and Kurt rest. We’ll wait love. He lifted his eyes to his wife. for a few minutes. If he hasn’t come, I will “Should we start?” he asked. start to say Kiddush.” That was when Hans turned, ever so His tall and noble wife sat down at the slowly, in my direction. opposite end of the table, right before me, “Oh my goodness!” he gasped, his face with her back turned. I could tell from the turning pale. way she sat down that she was in considerUncle Moshe’s dark brown eyes rose able pain, and I suddenly realized that her above his wife and settled on me, still thinness wasn’t natural; it was the result of standing in the doorway. starvation. “Oh, there you are!” he called out in a The woman with the beautiful green whisper. eyes narrowed her gaze. Tears were streaming down his face, “But how is he going to come here, anynow. Then he seemed to take hold of himway?” she asked. “This is August 1944, and self, as the head of the family. we are among the last Jews left in Holland. “IT’S AFTER “Blessed be Hashem, forever and ever,” But as far as I know, he was only born after he mumbled. “A perfect copy of Martha, his the war.” CURFEW, AND grandmother, my beloved sister.” I looked at the woman opposite her. She He rose from his chair with much difhad the same large, beautiful eyes, though THE GERMANS ficulty. Only now did I realize how emacihers were a grayish blue. Her hair was auated he was. burn, too, but rich and curly. I understood WILL SHOOT “My son,” he whispered, making his way they were sisters. My mother also had large, around the table. “We have all been waiting beautiful eyes, much like them. Could they HIM IF THEY for you. This table you see here, it belonged really be her aunts? The thought brought to our parents, your great-grandparents, tears to my eyes. SEE HIM.” Nathan and Esther Levin. They died young “Don’t start your usual deep specu-

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

come and buy this table back,” Uncle Moshe whispered. “Please and Martha, our oldest sister, received it as an inheritance. We take it to your home. I can’t even begin to explain to you what a used to gather around it every Shabbos, all the siblings and their great kindness it will be to your departed family.” families, until the Nazis invaded Holland in May 1940. Then Everyone at the table agreed. things started to get difficult. Martha’s neighbors on HerenThen Uncle Moshe nodded in the direction of the couple gracht Street took over her apartment when Martha was sent huddled in the doorway. “Even to them,” he added. in a transport to Westerbork in July 1943.” Uncle Moshe fell silent for a moment, his gaze focused on VI the past. “When we came for the table a year later, I felt an overwhelming surge of emotion. My the neighbors threatened to call the Gestapo if whole being was reaching out to Uncle Moshe “A PERFECT we didn’t leave right away. We were shocked. and the people sitting around the table. I wantThis family had always been so friendly to us. ed to ask them about my mother, my GrandCOPY OF We offered them several diamonds and a large mother Martha. I knew that beyond the little I sum of cash, the last money we had left, to keep had overheard while standing in the doorway, MARTHA, HIS the table for us until the end of the war. But they carried with them endless stories from a GRANDMOTHER, they refused and shouted to the other neighpast that I only understood now would add bors to call the Gestapo.” meaning and depth to my life, which until MY BELOVED Uncle Moshe sighed. Then he seemed to then seemed to have unfolded on the edge of a collect himself. great void. I took a step forward. These people, SISTER.” “This Dutch family moved to Copenhagen I loved them, I had missed them growing up, after the war,” he continued, his warm eyes setwithout even knowing. I wondered if they were tling deeper into mine. “The husband passed the reason I had never made a true, meaningful away two weeks ago, shortly after his wife. commitment to any woman in my life. Perhaps Their son immediately went to Antonio’s Anthat was what they meant, that I couldn’t martiques and asked the owner to take the table on ry without that table? Oh, how beautiful it was commission; he had never liked it. He was five to look at each and every one; they were more years old the day we came to buy it back, and than eighteen family members, uncles, aunts he only vaguely remembers that someand cousins gathered for Shabbos. We thing terrible happened. But at night, were one family, no matter the heated he still hears the high-pitched sirens and outbursts, misunderstandings and differthe large crowd of Nazis, storming into their ences in how we lived our lives. Now I wasn’t building. The few times he asked his parents, alone anymore. It was the most beautiful feelthey refused to speak about it. So he grew up ing I had ever felt. I had finally come home. without knowing that the table was stolen VII from their Jewish neighbor, Martha Levin, who was killed in Auschwitz. They never told him That very instant they all faded away, and that my wife and I were caught that day when the white tablecloth seemed to fold around evthe Nazis arrived. He was pushed into a side room and a maid erything on the table and disappear. I felt a hand on my shoullocked the door. He also never knew that all our family memder. bers still left in Amsterdam were tracked down during the fol“Excuse me, mister,” I heard Antonio’s broken voice behind lowing weeks and deported in the last transport to Auschwitz, me. “Sorry I took so long, but this customer was already here in September 1944, where they were killed, like Martha.” last week, and he’s in a great hurry. You like the table? Well, Uncle Moshe had stopped to catch his breath. he came to tell me that he will go down to a 1,000 Kroner, even I saw a door at the end of the room, like in most turn-ofwith the chairs, just that anyone will buy it.” the-century Copenhagen apartments, like my own. These doors The inner room with the mahogany table and surrounding always lead to a long servants’ hallway, running to a large, Danchairs was empty now. But an aura of goodness, of the warmth ish kitchen. A man and a woman were huddled in the doorway. of my family who had just been seated there, surrounded the I understood they were the Dutch couple who had stolen the dark and beautifully carved furniture. table. Their eyes were looking at me, embarrassed and pleading. “I’ll take it,” I said without looking at Antonio. I remem“We have been waiting for you and praying that you would bered the nervous, very blond man who’d entered the store

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

right after I arrived. I hoped I would never see him again. “All of it,” I added. In less than five minutes the purchase was settled. I wanted Antonio to bring the table and chairs the same day, but he insisted that he wanted to give it a special mahogany polish, free of charge. I said it didn’t matter, but he wouldn’t budge. In his kind brown eyes, I saw that for some reason, he wanted to give me a gift.

VIII I’m standing in my dining room, overlooking the Copenhagen Lakes. I’m waiting for the table to arrive. The walls are painted dove blue, the lower, wooden latticework white, all according to Danish, 19th century interior-decoration tradition. It’s a very large room. I had no problem finding a buyer for my old dining room table. It was a perfectly imitated French, Rococo table, very expensive, from Krogh’s Furniture next to The King’s New Square. Otto Heck, my assistant manager, bought it, almost full-price. He insisted. For my part, I was ready to give it to him for free. I never used it, anyway. I usually take people out for dinner; I don’t like to cook myself. I went to speak to a rabbi on Ole Suhrs Street the day after I bought the table. The rabbi, a real Orthodox Jew, is visiting from America. I told him of my family, that my Grandmother Martha was Jewish. He asked for my mother’s birth certificate. I said I had none. My mother has been dead for years and never left me any personal papers. I also said I have no idea how she came to Copenhagen after the war. Like her own mother, she got divorced from my father right after I was born. I know nothing about him. It was the rabbi who told me that my family name, Levin, is a Jewish name. I never thought about it. The rabbi is looking into the matter, what has to be done. He says there’s no doubt that I’m Jewish, but I might have to go through some kind of conversion, to immerse in a mikveh, a ritual bath, because I have no documents verifying that my mother was Jewish. I told the rabbi what I want, and he didn’t think I’m crazy. Everyone I know would for sure say that I’d gone out of my mind, but the rabbi said it was a great idea: I want to learn how to make Shabbos. I want to make it here in my own dining room, at my family’s mahogany table, with two candles, Kiddush wine, two braided breads and everything else that I saw in the back room of Antonio’s store. The rabbi said he would help me. Who knows what will happen later. For my part, I just hope that they will all come back, my family, even once, to sit at my Shabbos table. Perhaps even my mother and Grandmother Martha will return. Then we’ll all be together, to celebrate that the table has returned to our family, hopefully, forever.

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

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December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

caption caption caption. Caption Credit

Above, Dr. Horwitz (right) in January 2007 on a former Baghdad parade ground where Sadaam Hussein used to review his troops. The hands on the swords (there were actually 2 sets on either side of the parade grounds) are said to be molded from Saddamâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hands. Photo credit: Edward Horwitz

what inspired Dr. Edward Horwitz, a successful cardiologist, to enlist in the u.S. army? How did the doctor, an observant Jew, keep torah and mitzvos during wartime in iraq and Kuwait? Jewish Lifestyleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s avraham Zuroff speaks with Dr. Edward Horwitz.

Jewish Lifestyle

Date Month/Year December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

met Dr. Horwitz over lunch at a Jerusalem Chinese restaurant. He had just finished seeing his patients at the Sourasky Medical Center in Tel Aviv, and was on his way home to finish packing for a three-month tour of Kuwait. Dr. Horwitz’s descriptions of his adventures in Iraq and Kuwait are so matter-of-fact that one would think he was talking about a relaxing trip to the Dead Sea. His gentle demeanor and prominent kippah perched on his receding hairline are at odds with my image of military men who have endured years of combat. Dr. Horwitz relates what motivated him to give up a lucrative job and enter a war zone. It all started with his cousin, Aaron. Aaron Horwitz was a bond broker at the corporate headquarters of Cantor Fitzgerald, then located on the top floors of the World Trade Center. He was one of the company’s 658 employees who died in the September 11, 2001 terrorist attack. His friends and relatives describe the 24-year-old Aaron as full of life. Aaron’s cousin, Dr. Edward Horwitz, wanted to do something tangible to avenge Aaron’s death. So the successful cardiologist joined the U.S. Army for an eight-year commitment. Dr. Horwitz started working as an internist and cardiologist in 1983 in Cleveland, Ohio. But he was concerned

He wanted to do something in a tangible way to “do something for the soldiers” who were fighting a war against terrorism, and avenge the death of his cousin aaron, a terrorism victim. about the number of malpractice claims doctors were hit with, and the skyrocketing cost of malpractice insurance. “I was always interested in the military. And then there was a malpractice case in Ohio. In my last year, malpractice insurance went up 563 percent.”

uncle Sam wants You Uncle Sam wanted him, and Dr. Horwitz took the bait. At a medical convention, Dr. Horwitz saw a booth manned by an army recruiter. Half joking, Dr. Horwitz approached the recruiter. “You probably don’t want somebody my age,” he said. The recruiter replied, “That depends on what type of doctor you are.” Dr.

Horwitz told the recruiter that he was a cardiologist. “A cardiologist? We’re very interested in you,” the recruiter responded. Before Dr. Horwitz had a chance to leave, the recruiter cited a very attractive salary package and mentioned that army cardiologists usually work in U.S. hospitals and aren’t sent to combat zones – or so the recruiter thought. Dr. Horwitz took the recruiter’s business card. At the time, he was going through a difficult divorce and needed the extra money. But even more important, he wanted to do something tangible for the soldiers who were fighting the war against terrorism, and avenge the death of his cousin Aaron, a terrorism victim. The more Dr. Horwitz thought about it, the more appealing enlistment seemed. In the army, he’d get to teach medicine. “When I had a private practice, I was looking for teaching positions,” Dr. Horwitz recalls. “I like teaching cardiology,” continues Dr. Horwitz, whose instruction extends beyond textbook medicine. “I teach my students how to behave. For example, remove the minimum amount of clothing from the patient to preserve the patient’s dignity.” In addition, he’d be making $10,000 more than as an associate professor, a position he was considering at Ohio State University.

Cheering up His Commander So Dr. Horwitz joined the American Army, went to boot camp and did his basic training. But contrary to his recruiter’s assurance, he was

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

sent to the Iraqi war zone. “Six months later, they changed the rules,” Dr. Horwitz interjected. He was called into headquarters. “You’re being sent to Iraq,” an officer told him. The chief of medicine was quite upset about Dr. Horwitz’s transfer. Not wanting to lose a staff physician of Dr. Horwitz’s caliber, the chief physician mentioned the issue of religious observance. “Look, it’s hard as an Orthodox Jew. We could get you out of it,” he said. But Dr. Horwitz refused to use an excuse – albeit legitimate – to shirk his military responsibilities. As a physician, Dr. Horwitz received the rank of lieutenant colonel. Although lower ranking officers were required to salute him, a doctor isn’t in the chain of command. Nevertheless, he went to command meetings where he was briefed on evacuation procedures. Casualty evacuation, known as CASEVAC in the U.S. military, always includes two plans – a land route and helicopter plan to quickly evacuate casualties. Evacuation by land requires army engineers to check the road for mines and ensure that army vehicles can travel 80 mph to evacuate

On a stretcher designated for war casualties, Dr. Horwitz placed a napkin over his Lechem Mishnah, and then ate his roll and cold MRE. He sang Menuchah Vesimchah, Tzoma Nafshi and other zemiros. “You can make Shabbos anywhere,” he smiles. soldiers. 84

Keeping Kosher in Battle Dr. Horwitz felt it wasn’t honorable to avoid serving abroad. “It’s better for me to go abroad to serve than for someone else with small children; you do the right thing.” Dr. Horwitz served with an infantry unit in Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan and Operation New Dawn in Iraq. As a battalion surgeon, he served for the 5-20 Infantry unit in Iraq, part of the 3-2 Striker brigade. The standard army rations of bacon and eggs are obviously problematic for a frum soldier. Nevertheless, with a little improvisation and planning, a frum soldier can obtain nutritious kosher food. Dr. Horwitz was provided with kosher MREs, ready-to-eat meals that are heated by pouring boiling water onto the packaging. When the unit ran out of the kosher packaged food, Dr. Horwitz would get a few bags of rice and boil water in a container. But getting chalav Yisrael milk was more challenging. “Reb Moshe [Feinstein’s] heter of chalav stam

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

doesn’t apply in Iraq, especially when the inhabitants are known to drink camel and donkey milk,” he explains. Dr. Horwitz would therefore eat his Cheerios or Rice Crispies with nondairy creamer. Plenty of fruits and vegetables supplemented his diet. Dr. Horwitz would take flour and make his own sourdough bread, which he baked in a toaster oven that he had brought with him. “If you say you can’t, you won’t be able to; if you say you can, you will,” Dr. Horwitz recites his battle mantra. Since the Americans were in a war zone, Dr. Horwitz would often spend Shabbos on the battlefield. “There was only one holiday that there was no mission – and it wasn’t on December 25,” said Dr. Horwitz. “It was Superbowl Sunday.” Missions couldn’t take place during the Superbowl football game, since the American soldiers were glued to the television set.

Shabbos in the Belly of the Beast Spending Shabbos in a war zone was a bit more challenging than keeping kosher. Dr. Horwitz recalls making Friday night Kiddush in a medical evacuation vehicle while on patrol. The vehicle had two floors, the upper floor for the driver and the lower floor for the medical personnel. “During the patrol, I was singing zemiros. I was in the belly of the beast myself,” he says. On a stretcher desig-

nated for war casualties, Dr. Horwitz placed a napkin over his Lechem Mishnah, and then ate his roll and cold MRE. He sang Menuchah Vesimchah, Tzoma Nafshi and other zemiros. “You can make Shabbos anywhere,” he smiles. The Jews first arrived in Iraq during the Babylonian Exile. In the 1940s, more than 100,000 Jews called it home. Between 1948 and 1951 121,633 Jews left the country, leaving 15,000 behind. Today, less than a dozen Jews remain. Although the native Jews in Iraq hide their Jewish identity due to concerns about their safety, Dr. Horwitz didn’t do so while there. Nor does he hide his kippah when making the hospital rounds in Kuwait. Although he dons tefillin in his barracks, Dr. Horwitz wears a kippah anywhere he’s deployed in the Middle East. “When I was in Iraq, high-power Iraqi academics wanted to talk to me. We spoke about mathematics and American politics, and steered clear of Middle East politics.”

Seder in Baquba Dr. Horwitz received cheesecake on Shavuos and shemurah matzos on Pesach from the Aleph Institute, an organization that provides Jewish ritual supplies to American Jewish soldiers. However, Dr. Horwitz recalls that getting items for Pesach Sedarim in Iraq took an act of Congress. He explains, “I had a Seder kit waiting for me. But a Jews for J. Protestant minister took away all the kosher meals.” The Evangelical clergyman was essentially blackmailing the Jewish soldiers to attend a Christianthemed Seder. So Dr. Horwitz contacted Senator Chuck Schumer and asked him to intervene. “Dr. Horwitz isn’t getting a Seder kit when he’s at war?” the New York senator questioned the military officials, ordering them to ensure that the religious soldier would be provided with food for Pesach. In the end, Dr. Horwitz made the Pesach Sedarim on his canvas cot bed on a field base in Baquba, Iraq. Baquba is Arabic for Yaakov’s house, but far from the image of the typical

Dr. Horwitz in battle gear, laden with medical supplies in front of his evacuation vehicle at FOB (Forward Operating Base) Shields, outside of Sadr City, Iraq, January 2007. Photo credit: Edward Horwitz

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

Bais Yaakov school. Located 31 miles northeast of Baghdad, Baquba emerged as the scene of some of the heaviest terrorist activity, along with the Sunni enclaves of Fallujah, Ramadi and Samarra. It was the site of the heaviest fighting during the June 24, 2004, insurgent offensive. Al-Tawhid Wal-Jihad, led by Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, took responsibility for the attacks. Al-Zarqawi, the al-Qaida leader in Iraq, was eventually killed by U.S. forces. Dr. Horwitz performed life-saving measures during a shoot-out in a Baquba alleyway. One of the American soldiers suffered neck injuries and a bullet that pierced his lung. After Dr. Horwitz stabilized the soldier and put on tourniquets, the injured soldier was evacuated by helicopter to a combat surgical hospital in Baghdad. Another time, Dr. Horwitz was stationed outside of Sadr City, east of Baghdad. The stench of poverty filled the air. His job was to perform emergency medical procedures on wounded American soldiers in combat. When Dr. Horwitz wasn’t going on missions, he’d jog 70 miles a week, on

average – a practice that he hopes to get back to. While working in Israel, Dr. Horwitz substantially reduced his jogging routine due to the demands of working at several clinics. While in the army, Dr. Horwitz learns from the Mesilas Yesharim during downtime, a sefer that he calls his “comfort book.”

Close Calls Although he didn’t think that he’d die in battle, Dr. Horwitz faced some close calls, including getting shot at and running over a roadside bomb. In Iraq, Dr. Horwitz carried an M9 rifle on his hip, along with an M4 Beretta rifle. However, whenever there was a firefight, other soldiers would protect him. “I wanted to shoot, but they wouldn’t let me,” he states. Dr. Horwitz explains that a medic’s job is to treat the wounded, not to fight. He elaborates that the Iraqis would shoot at chaplains, doctors and medics in order to decrease morale among the American soldiers. Upon completion of his army stint, Dr. Horwitz plans to return to work at

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

“i had a Seder kit waiting for me. But a Jews for J. Protestant minister took away all the kosher meals.”

the Sourasky Medical Center, where his job is being held for him. Although the doctor could have received a promotion from the U.S. Army, it would require him to be committed to the army for an additional two years – something that he’s unwilling to do, as he doesn’t want to be away from his children and grandchildren for such a long time. When Dr. Horwitz returns, he’ll reminisce about keeping Shabbos under gunfire and teaching krias Shema to American soldiers in Iraq. “I got to read Sefer Yonah in Ninveh on Yom Kippur. How many people have done that?” Dr. Horwitz’s eyes grow misty. “In a lot of ways, Iraq was the best thing that ever happened to me.” n

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Feature

First night of Chanukah, 5715 December, 1954

“T

HEY GET PRESENTS ONLY ONE NIGHT,” MOMMY STRESSED. “But we get presents for eight nights!” I think she may even have held up eight fingers, to make sure we didn’t miss the point. I stared at her. I don’t know what my younger brother, Ricky, thought, but I was taken aback, insulted, hurt. Was that who she thought I was? Wanting or needing silly presents? Bribes?! I was not quite nine, but I knew what Chanukah was about. Didn’t I go to Sunday school — at least some weeks? I’d heard the story: Chanukah was about not bowing down to idols. I’d seen the rehearsals for the Sunday school Chanukah play, about Chanah and her seven sons, and how they didn’t bow down to idols, no matter what — not even the littlest one. Earlier that year, we’d heard the story of young Avraham who broke his father’s idols. I thought it was a really neat story. For weeks, I’d fallen asleep each night going over the story in my head, marveling about how Avraham went against the whole world — and to think that I was his great-great-great-something-granddaughter!

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

RIVKA RIESMAN

Besides, when I was very little, Mommy had taught me to say the six words of Shema at bedtime, though that practice had long been forgotten. She had explained what the words meant: That there’s One G-d — not three, like Carol Ann next door and lots of kids believed. Not many like people far away in India believed. We were Jews and that was the best thing to be, because we knew this truth. Did my mother really think that I needed toys each night to keep me from celebrating a holiday for some other god? Each night, the presents got more elaborate and expensive (following some kind of principle of ma’alin, I suppose, escalating the festivities). Mommy had wrapped them with her usual creativity: in the shape of an orange-crepe paper candle or a silver menorah or a sky-blue Jewish star, an oil flask, or dreidel. Now that I think of it, they were presents that automatically reflected Greek values, because that was the culture we were living in. I remember a first-night gift: a set of bows and arrows, with suction cups at their tips, for Ricky and me together. We had fun with that for an hour or so, until we got bored and went back to watching TV, which was full of seasonal specials. I remember a big, round box of Faberge bath powder, its acrid fragrance tickling my nose, with a huge,

fluffy green powder puff. Ricky got a baseball mitt. I remember a cobalt blue bottle of Evening in Paris perfume. My mother showed me how to dab it onto the insides of my wrists and onto my earlobes; she didn’t explain why I would want to do that. I remember a red satin jewelry box that tinkled out a melody, with a diamond-shaped mirror on the cover. And a fancy beaded sweater. And roller skates. And the grand finale — a big, shiny bike with training wheels. I was a nine-year-old bookworm; what did I care about perfume and beaded sweaters? I resented anything that tore me away from my books. I thought baths were a waste of time that could be spent reading; why did I need bath powder? Bikes and skates, I suspected, were just a ploy to get me outside, when I wanted to be inside. (There was a book in there among the presents somewhere, which I greeted with some interest; it turned out to be about a girl who worked hard to become a ballerina and finally made it to the corps de ballet. Even then, I remember thinking

WE WERE JEWS AND THAT WAS THE BEST THING TO BE, BECAUSE WE KNEW THIS TRUTH.

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

THERE IT WAS, EVERY GREEK VALUE: BEAUTY, CULTURE, SPORTS... NOT TO MENTION MATERIALISM.

that she was working very hard just to dance around on a stage, and wondering why anyone would want to do that.) There it was, every Greek value: beauty, culture, sports…not to mention materialism.

Some friends were talking recently about substance versus image. Naomi mentioned Jackie Kennedy’s death, on a bed of silken sheets, how she arranged the room just so for the occasion, surrounding herself with her best-loved books and objets d’art. Sarah reminisced about how, during those Camelot years when Jackie renovated the White House, her name was synonymous with culture, fashion, beauty, wealth…image, mystique. “Who can imagine what the reality was?” she wondered aloud. “Was there a reality, beyond the appearances, beneath the surface…or was the surface all there was?” Ruthy commented that, in lashon hakodesh, the holy tongue, where each word is the essence of its meaning, the word for Greece is Yavan, which is written yud, vav, final nun — three straight lines, with no depth, nothing beneath the surface. “And after all,” she added, “Jackie Kennedy’s second husband was Greek…”

I guess my mother thought she understood children and what they really wanted. Or maybe, having lived through the Depression, she and my father valued money far more than their daughter, raised in the lap of luxury, ever could. But I still think she should have had more faith in me, higher expectations, more understanding of who and what I was. Toys, games, certainly clothes and perfume — none of these meant much, if anything, to me. I was glutted with them. It wasn’t that I was used to being given everything my heart desired. More that I was given everything long before it ever entered my mind or my heart to desire it. Besides, I was pretty cynical. Like all my contemporaries, I’d been raised on glitz and glitter and hype, and they left me cold. When we watched the Mickey Mouse Show sign off each afternoon with “M-I-C … See you next week! K-E-Y … Why? Because we love you!” Ricky and I exchanged amused glances that clearly conveyed, Oh, sure you do! How could you love us?! You never even met us! We were used to hearing commercials about 90

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

detergents that got laundry “whiter than white” and reading magazine ads with words like “sensational” and “out-of-this-world.” Watching Peter Pan, our eyes would narrow, looking for the invisible wires that we knew must be there to send everybody flying — and we didn’t bother clapping for Tinker Bell to come back to life. It had been too many years to remember since anyone we knew believed in Santa or the Tooth Fairy. And that book about ballerinas? There had been a time when I’d been awed by their ability to dance on the very points of their toes, but once my mother enrolled me in the Michelle Moreau School of Dance, I saw how the girls in the advanced classes put on their toe shoes, with a platform inside the toe that only made it look as if they were standing on their tippy-toes. Some might think my mother’s apprehensions understandable. After all, from Thanksgiving on, we were inundated, bombarded with “their holiday.” A boy in my class had a largerthan-life sled-and-reindeer scene lit up on the roof of his home. Strings of flashing colored lights hung everywhere, on every bush and light pole. There were trees with shining tinsel inside the library down the street, wreaths on neighbors’ doors, music blaring in stores and streets, seasonal stories in the magazines, department store display windows featuring outfits in red and green, and “Ho, Ho, Ho!” sounding from every downtown corner. At school, there were endless discussions among our classmates on the all-important topic of who wanted to get what. My class had been working for weeks on a mural of Santa’s workshop, covering the whole wall of the classroom. The best painters got to work on Santa or the elves. I was assigned to paint the tall slanted table on which he was filling in his ledger, my hand trembling slightly at the great responsibility as I carefully applied the brown paint. In ceramics class, we’d made lopsided mustard-yellow ashtrays for our fathers and pins to present our mothers. We’d cut out pointy leaves of limp, gray clay, painted them a hideous, liv-

id green, added tiny berries of bright red. Fired and glazed with a tiny gold pin pasted on the back, it still didn’t look anything like any jewelry my mother ever wore. But the teacher knew everything, so I proudly presented the pin to my mother, who frowned and never wore it. And there were the rehearsals for plays and pageants… “Mommy! Mommy!” I came home one day in great excitement. “I’m the ‘Narrarrarrator’ for the class play!” Miss Williams had sat me on a big, red velvet armchair, front stage, in the school auditorium. A huge, velvet-covered book was placed in my hands, with a gold tassel of a bookmark. She’d stood way at the back and told me to start reading. I read with confidence and expression, loud and clear. After all, wasn’t I the best reader in the class? Besides, in those days when each school day began with such a reading, the words and cadences were familiar; I knew them half by heart: “And there were, in that same country, shepherds abiding, keeping watch over their flocks by night. And behold…” When I finished, Miss Williams was smiling. When I told my mother, she wasn’t smiling. She whirled around in the small kitchen, grabbed up the booklet of phone numbers that hung beside the phone, and dialed very fast. I could hear poor Miss Williams’s apologetic squeaking over the line, and my mother’s caustic answer, imitating her inability to say “Chanukah” correctly: “No, a Hahnakah skit is not acceptable, either! Religion has no place in the public schools!” She thought she was defending a principle of democracy, I suppose, but I wonder if her emotion wasn’t coming from somewhere deeper. And the school choruses... We Jewish kids snapped our mouths firmly shut and shook our heads obstinately, singing only the “neutral” songs about sleigh bells and winter wonderlands, but after half a century or more, have any of us forgotten the words to all those songs we didn’t sing? They were coming out of our ears, day and night. Yes, my mother’s apprehensions were understandable. But if she’d only known…none of that stuff was even interesting to me. I automatically filtered it all out as just

so much more of the usual clamor and glare that inundated our lives all year round. What was interesting, what was strange and novel and different, was this: Each night, my busy, working mother stopped whatever she was doing, put a little gold-colored menorah on the television set (the natural focal point of our home, though the irony of that escaped me at the time), chanted the blessings from the back of the candle box, lit the tiny flames, and sang “Ma’oz Tzur.” How can anyone compare flashing colored artificial lights with a real, live flame? That moment of suspense when the tiny red glow touches the wick. Will it catch, or…? Then it sparks, flares high into a flame, sways and dances, now red, now yellow, now orange. Reaching, reaching… And then — despite having no lack of convenience-food goodies of every variety in the house — my mother went into the kitchen and hand-grated potatoes for hot, crisp, goldenbrown potato latkes with applesauce. Yum. True, it was only interesting for a few minutes; then Ricky and I were again absorbed in whatever television show was in progress (Mommy had timed the candle lighting for the commercial break, of course). But I can still clearly picture those few minutes of broken routine, while I remember nothing of those shows.

The mission of parenthood is manifold: physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual. There’s so much effort involved in keeping children fed, clad, shod, washed, combed, warm, healthy, happy, safe, educated — and coming up with the money to pay for all of that. But our parenting of bodies, hearts, and minds is only the backdrop of our true task: to parent souls — to kindle, with the fire of our own souls, the spark that will flare into flame and turn their souls to fire. And how can we touch their souls if we aren’t in touch with our own? So much was wrong in that great darkness that engulfed us then and still engulfs us now. But a little bit — tiny as a can-

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

dle spark — was right. And a little bit is enough. “A little light pushes away much darkness.” There was a little light, and it was enough.

Rosh Chodesh Kislev, 5728 December, 1967 Fast forward thirteen years, and there I was, entering the shuk in Meah Shearim. I’d arrived in Eretz Yisrael just before Rosh Hashanah, and was boarding with a nice family, the Zeligmans. I went to the shuk every afternoon, drinking in the atmosphere, never getting enough of it. Hey, what was this? The home supplies store right at the entrance of the shuk had the usual display spread outside: plastic shopping baskets, basins, buckets, brooms, and… aquariums?! That was definitely something new. Though they were empty of fish, water, or anything else, I recognized them right away. My family back in the States had a long aquarium, running the length of one wall of our sun porch. My father had built it himself, and had made quite a hobby of raising tropical fish in it. There were neons, zebras, fan fish. Even the speckled, hideous ones were wondrous creatures in their own way. These were much smaller than the one we had at home. Some were square, some rectangular. The question was: What were they doing here at all? Were the neighborhood residents interested in raising goldfish? Walking on, I discovered that store after store was displaying aquariums! What was this, a new fad? Finally, I went into a gift shop, where I thought I might find some small gifts to send back to the States, to some of the children for whom I used to babysit. Mobiles of felt camels? Maybe. Cute kippot? Possibly. Ah! Wooden 92

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dreidels! Just the thing! They were painted in bright, happy colors. I picked one up and turned it slowly in my hand, admiring the craftsmanship. Nun, gimmel, hei, pei … What?! That wasn’t right! It should be nun, gimmel, hei, shin! Nes gadol hayah sham. “A great miracle happened there.” How could such a mistake have crept in? I put down the defective dreidel and picked up another. But I soon discovered that the whole batch was defective. Did the shopkeeper realize this? Was my Hebrew good enough to point it out to him? I decided to try. Picking up one of the dreidels, I went over to the counter and pointed to the pei. “Pei?” I queried. “Lo pei! Shin!” The shopkeeper stroked his snowy beard, looking bewildered. Then his face cleared. “B’America, zeh sham (In America, it’s there),” he explained, pointing to somewhere far off in the distance. “Nes gadol hayah sham.” I nodded vigorously. He shook his head and said, “Nes gadol hayah po (A great miracle happened here).” Searching his English vocabulary, he came up with, “Herrre!” He pointed down at the floor tiles for emphasis. Despite the unseasonably warm weather, a chill passed through me. It started in my heels, traveled up through my spine, and rooted me to the spot. Here. It happened here. It was not some story of somewhere far away that you read about in books, but here. For real. If archeologists were to dig up these very floor tiles and excavate deep enough, they would discover relics of the Hasmonean Era. The miracle of the oil that burned for eight days happened in the Beis HaMikdash, within easy walking distance from where I stood. I bought a dozen of the dreidels and made my way home. C h u m y laughed appreciatively when I told her the story. “But Chumy,” I remembered, “you know what else? Something very strange that I saw in the

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a-z December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

I STOOD DRINKING IN THE SIGHT OF ALL THE SISTER LIGHTS SHINING DOWN AT ME FROM EVERY PORCH AND WINDOW ALL AROUND.

shuk. Aquariums! Why would they be selling aquariums?” “Aquariums?!” “Yes. Glass cases, edged with metal. About so big…” “Glass cases…” For a minute, she looked baffled. Then she threw back her head and laughed. “Those aren’t aquariums! Those are cases for Chanukah menorahs!” “Cases for… Why do Chanukah menorahs need cases?” “Well, you see, outside of Eretz Yisrael, people light their menorahs in their homes, because it’s considered dangerous to attract too much attention from the non-Jews. But the real mitzvah is to publicize the miracle. So here, where it’s safe to do so, people put their menorahs outside — and the glass cases are to keep off the wind and rain.” I thought of the frum families I knew back in the States. It was true. They lit their menorahs inside. For that matter, anyone who built a sukkah did so in their backyard. I thought of the Hillel House at the local university. Same thing. After all, they were just down the hill from the stately, columned buildings of Fraternity Row, each one with its Greek name of Theta Beta Omega or whatever. More than once, the Jewish fraternity had had a cross burned on its front lawn. No point in inviting trouble. I nodded. I began to take in the fact that here was, at last, a place where one could feel like a fish in water. The next day, I went and bought an “aquarium” of my own. A few weeks later, I lit my Chanukah lights in it. Outside. Then I stood drinking in the sight of all the sister lights shining down at me from every porch and window all around, as far as eye could see. And so, the tiny glow caught, sparked, flamed, fired…and is baruch Hashem, burning still.

November 2011 / Tevas 5772

Health

By Ofir Isaac

Good Posture for Students M

any young people in our community who spend long hours studying complain of severe pain in the lower neck, upper back area. Good, straight posture is equally important for boys and girls, and this is nearly impossible to achieve if problems aren’t caught and corrected early. One young student whom I’ll call Elliot (not his real name), 16 years old, was brought into Allcare by his mother because he complained of back pain while studying. In addition, his mother wanted him to stand straight and not slouch while sitting. Being a good mother, she brought him first to an orthopedist, who diagnosed him with a slight kyphosis, rounded back. The doctor prescribed physical therapy. Fortunately, we are located very close to Elliot’s yeshivah, which made it easier for him to come in for his treatments. After a thorough evaluation, the therapist found that Elliot had weak abdominal muscles and tight hips, causing him to slouch and creating the pain he was having in his neck and upper back. The therapist informed Elliot and his mother that we

could design a specific program for him that would strengthen his core and abdominal muscles, thus relieving the stress and pain in his neck and allow him to stand and sit straighter. Elliot came to therapy at Allcare on a regular basis. He also performed his exercises twice daily at home, for 10 minutes at a time. Elliot’s dedication paid off and after only six visits his condition improved. He is sitting and standing straighter today and no longer suffers from pain in his neck or lower back, allowing him to concentrate and study better. At Allcare Physical Therapy, we offer a modest environment with private rooms and one-on-one time with an expert therapist. Unlike most medical facilities, we strive to schedule our patients so there is never more than a few minutes of waiting time, because we know that our patients’ time is as valuable as ours. Most sessions last about an hour, with no skimping. We are experts in biomechanical diagnoses and manual therapy, and we’re the doctor’s choice when it comes to referrals. I’m also proud to say that a great many of our patients come to

us by referrals from their friends and family. Look for our upcoming article in next month’s edition for more information about other chronic conditions and how Allcare is the preferred choice for our community.

If you or someone you know is experiencing pain, don’t wait.

Call (718) 339-6885 to schedule an appointment today. vvv To learn why physical therapy is the best first choice for chronic pain or post surgery rehabilitation, go to

www.allcarept.com and watch our videos. Look for our upcoming article in next month’s edition for more information about other chronic conditions and how Allcare is the preferred choice for our community.

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

Diaspora

Our Trip TO China Wendy dickstein

shattering Misconceptions 96

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Wendy and Nachum Dickstein, who live in Nachlaot, Jerusalem, enjoy traveling, especially now that Nachum has retired from his job as Israel’s Deputy Director of Services for the Blind. Usually their trips are closer to home, but this past winter they decided to be adventurous and take a trip to China. The following are some of Wendy’s impressions of their trip to Beijing.

orget everything you’ve ever heard about China,” said Nachum after we returned home. The reality is completely different from what you might have expected. Beijing, Shanghai and Hong Kong — the cities we visited — are more modern than you can imagine. I was expecting a grim, austere land whose soul had been torn out by years of repression. I was not prepared for all the smiling Chinese people, both young and old. I was deeply impressed by their stateliness and strength, despite the hard lives they must lead, and at how many smiled in such a friendly way at us, as curious about us foreigners as we were about them. We’ve traveled to many places and almost no one smiles but rather looks mildly disapproving at what is usually an exuberant and unruly group of Israelis on vacation. I had heard that China was very dirty,

that everyone spits in the streets and the public toilets are a nightmare. But in the cities we visited everything was very clean, and I only saw two people spitting during the entire trip. As for the facilities, they were kept spotlessly clean by ladies in blue uniforms who were always hovering nearby. The cleaning people, who were everywhere, wore blue informs and carried straw brooms and metal dustpans. They seemed to work quietly and incessantly, and with tremendous dignity. I tried to photograph as many of them as I could, though often surreptitiously so as not to embarrass them.

arriving in Beijing Our 14-day trip to China began with a nine-hour El Al flight to Beijing. The tour was for Israelis who were traditionally oriented, which meant we required kosher food throughout the journey, took time to pray (in a minyan, if possible) three times a day, and took only walking tours on Shabbos. In our group were 23 people, mostly retired couples from different cities in Israel, a pair of widows and a single South American bookkeeper. Everyone was lively and friendly. Eli Zamir, our tour guide, had many years of experience leading groups to Morocco, Thailand and Slovenia. He had been to China several times before and knew what to expect. He managed everything without losing his cool, and he brought along a frying pan and a pot, which he produced at every hotel at breakfast time so that he could supervise the Chinese kitchen staff in boiling and frying eggs for all of us. Evening meals and Shabbat we ate at the local Chabad centers in Beijing and Hong Kong. We arrived in Beijing in the evening and were met by Max, our official local Chinese guide. and the bus that would carry us around the city for the week. The bus driver, Chow, was a strong, silent, solid Chinese peasant type of man.

Left, cleaning ladies in Beijing. Right, Max entertains us on the bus. Photo Credit: Wendy Dickstein

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

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He did not know a word of English and did not smile, but he drove carefully and patiently moved all of our suitcases into and out of the luggage rack at the bottom of the bus. Chow turned up at the hotel dining room each morning while we were eating the boiled eggs that had been cooked in our Israeli tour guide’s kosher pot and deposited on a cascade of white paper plates which he’d brought from home. The hotel sat us opposite a table with a sign which read “Muslim Food.” This consisted of gigantic spiky cucumbers and whole tomatoes with thin skins that we cut with plastic knives. Our driver Chow sat at a separate table and solemnly ate his way through prodigious quantities of the hotel breakfast, which featured a wealth of exotic Chinese delicacies, such as traditional rice pudding called congee, noodles, dim sum and various other dumplings, chicken feet soup and sushi. There were also more Western offerings, like cornflakes and oatmeal, but Chow did not bother with these.

our guide Max Max was very approachable and friendly. His English was not too bad, though you really had to know English quite well in order to figure out some of his expressions, which were slightly off kilter. Max was full of high spirits and everybody

liked him very much, even though they might not have understood everything he said. Our Israeli guide translated Max’s English back into Hebrew, but his own English was not too good either, and he felt free to embellish as he saw fit. By the end of the week Max felt very comfortable with us and began teaching us songs and how to count in Chinese: “Yi… er… san… si… wu… liu… qi… ba… jiu… shi.” When we said good-bye to him at the end of the week, Nachum remarked that he felt a little sad, as if he were parting from a friend.

the howard johnson paragon hotel The hotel was in the center of town, across from the main Beijing railway terminal. Our room looked onto the square in front of the station and we could see hun-

dreds of people streaming in and out of the station and over the pedestrian bridge from six in the morning, when it was still dark, until late at night. From our window on the eighth floor the people looked like ants and they all seemed to be dragging suitcases on wheels or carrying bundles on their

Top, enjoying a treat on a stick in Wangfujing Street. Bottom, the hotel lounge with the piano. Photo Credit: Wendy Dickstein December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

shoulders. Perhaps they came from other places to work in Beijing. One evening we walked over to have a closer look at the railway station. I was shocked to see how crowded it was with people waiting on line outside. It wasn’t even possible to go inside. There was a clock tower beside the railway station with a clock like a Chinese Big Ben which played a Chinese tune and struck the hour with booming oriental chimes. It made me feel as though we were truly in China. In the lobby of the hotel every evening a young man sat at a grand piano in coat and tails and played for the guests. Once there was a young man sitting on the

piano stool playing a saxophone.

an evening stroll: wangfujing walking street After we had unpacked we went for a night stroll to see the night food market, a few minutes walk from the hotel. Our first encounter with Beijing at night was that it was freezing. The cold bit into our ears and face and hands. We took out scarves and hats and gloves and bundled up and then followed Max and Eli like a flock of cold, jetlagged geese to Wangfu-

The great wall

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jing Street. According to the information from China Tours: “This 700-year-old commercial street is 810 meters (0.5 miles) long and 40 meters (43.7 yards) wide. It is the busiest street in Beijing… 600,000 people every day come and go in the street and on holidays, the number can rise to 1,200,000.” The street was wide, with hundreds of modern, elegant shops of every kind. But the most unusual sight — and what Eli and Max wanted us to see — was the night food market. Row upon row of vendors fried and roasted meat and fruit and unmentionable creatures you can’t even imagine, snapped up by an eager crowd

enjoying themselves. Everyone ate right there on the street like people at a county fair. They regarded us, a gawking foreign group, for just a moment with amusement and curiosity and smiled indulgently before they went back to enjoying their delicacies. These included insects and seahorses and starfish, scorpions and squid, tripe, kebabs, dumplings and fried and candied fruit.

the forBidden city Things are big in China. The Forbidden City is said to contain 9,999 rooms. It is a complex of palaces, assembly halls, imperial gardens, temples and shrines

to ancestors. The roofs and tiles of many of the buildings are yellow, the color of royalty in China. The whole thing is surrounded by a moat six meters deep and a wall ten meters high. The Forbidden City was the administrative center of China for five hundred years. A succession of twenty-four Chinese emperors from the Ming and the Qin dynasties lived here until 1924, when the last Qin emperor, Pu Li, was forced to leave. Construction of the Forbidden City began in 1406 by the third Ming emperor, Yong Lo. According to the Cultural China Center: “The construction took 14 years — and an estimated one million workers, including 100,000 arti-

sans, were involved. Stones…were quarried from FangShan, a suburb of Beijing. It is said that a well was dug every 50 meters in order to pour water onto the road in winter to slide the huge stones along ice into the city. In the summer, logs were used to roll the rocks along. Huge amounts of timbers and other materials were also freighted in, many from faraway provinces… By the end of the eighteenth century, some 9,000 people were estimated to reside there.” How many people must have suffered to build these boastfully grand structures for their selfish emperors, I thought as I surveyed the massive complex. In terms of their human-intensive labor, they were like the

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101

pyramids in Egypt, which the Jews built with so much sweat, blood and tears. For hundreds of years the Forbidden City was off limits to ordinary citizens until it was appropriated by the People’s Committee and made into a museum where everyone was welcome to visit, providing they pay the entrance fee of sixty yuan (about $9). Although I shuddered at the implications of everything being so huge, I was happy to see masses of relaxed Chinese people traipsing through the palace grounds in tourist groups or in families, posing for photographs before the “Hall of Supreme Harmony,” the “Palace of Heavenly Purity,” the “Hall of Mental Cultivation,” or the “Palace of Tranquil Longevity.” I was more interested in the people visiting the palaces than in the buildings. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. We walked around the immense area for several hours. The weather was crisp and cold and patches of snow lay on the ground from the Beijing snowstorm of a week earlier. The ingenuity of the workers who looked after the complex was evident in the way piles of snow had been scooped up and placed around the roots of the trees so that when it melted the snow would water the trees. I stopped under one of those trees and watched the swarm of the crowd. How does a person cope with being just one of a billion citizens, I wondered? I thought about the well-known chassidic story attributed to Rav Simcha Bunim of Peshischa, the late 18th century Hassidic leader. He tells us that a person should walk around with two notes in his pocket: one which says, “The world was created for me,” and the other, “I am but dust and ashes.” This perspective was so evident in China where there were so many people, yet when you looked at them, each one was so individual and so wonderful. You could not help but see the Master’s Hand at work here. n

The Forbidden City.

Photo Credit: Wendy Dickstein

The Beijing jewish COmmuniTy Beijing, also known as Peking, is the capital city of the People’s Republic of China. Located in northern China, the city has a population of 17 million people, which includes about 2,000 Jews. Besides the Jews living in Beijing, approximately 10,000 Jewish businesspeople and tourists travel through the city each year. All year long, and especially during the spring and summer months, many Israeli backpackers travel through Asia and make a stopover in Beijing. Decades ago, a handful of Jewish communists came to live in Beijing, but a growing number of secular and then Orthodox Jews have settled there more recently. For the past 30 years, Jews from all over the world, mainly from the United States, Israel, Russia and Europe, have been coming to participate in the rapid economic development that China has enjoyed. A small group of North American Jews came to Beijing in the late 1970s and established a congregation called Kehillat Beijing. They held their first

Pesach seder and then Rosh HaShanah services in a hotel conference room in 1980. When China established diplomatic relations with Israel in 1992, a joint seder was held between Kehillat Beijing and the Israeli Embassy. Rabbi Shimon Freundlich has served as Beijing’s Chabad rabbi ever since he arrived in 2001. Since free-standing religious buildings are forbidden in the Chinese system, Rabbi Freundlich’s synagogue is technically in his home. He is also careful to work within the system by only allowing holders of foreign passports to attend prayer services and all Chabad activities, and he does no public advertising. During the last ten years, the Jewish community has established two day schools and a new mikveh called Mei Torah. Beijing’s first kosher restaurant opened in 2007 and operated 24 hours, six days a week, during the 2008 Summer Olympics, providing kosher food for spectators and athletes in the Olympic village.

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Mother of Greatness

Ettil danzig

kamenecki Mother of Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky

DINI HARRIS HE’S NOT MY FATHER

sther Danzig was born in 1868 in Dolhinov, a small Belarusian shtetl. Her father, Reb Zorach Danzig, was a talmid chacham who had earned semichah, but provided for his family through his successful export and real estate endeavors. The Jews of the town knew that the poor of Dolhinov survived because of his generous charity. In 1870, Reb Zorach passed away suddenly at the age of 28. Devastated, his wife Devora died a few weeks later. Barely two years old, Esther Danzig had been orphaned of both families. Esther was adopted by her mother’s brother, Reb Yankel Puterfas. One of Reb Yankel’s daughters was named Esther, so the adopted Esther was called Ettil. Ettil was raised with the same care and love as the rest of the Puterfas children, and she naturally forgot her parents and assumed that she was a biological child of the family. When she was 15, Ettil had a dream in which a young man appeared to her and instructed her not to call Reb Yankel “Father,” since he, not Reb Yankel, was her real father. The dream so disturbed Ettil that she could not eat or drink. Her adoptive father asked her to reveal the source of her misery. After hearing the dream, he confirmed the story. Reb Yankel and his wife had invested thirteen years of love and nurturing in their niece. Still, as a result of this dream, they told Ettil to abide by her father’s wish and cease to call them “Father” and “Mother.” Ettil decide to reunite with her older sister, who had moved back to her parents’ estate in Dolhinov. Reb Yankel and his wife helped Ettil with her travel plans. Ettil had strong feelings of hakaras hatov for the years she had spent in the Puterfas home. She eventually honored Reb Puterfas by naming her son Yaakov in his memory. The tranquility and love that she had absorbed in her formative years were implanted as the cornerstone of her own home.

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Minsk, Belarus

OPENING SHOP Confident and energetic, Ettil opened a store in Dolhinov. Despite her personal charm, her status as an orphan limited her shidduch opportunities. In 1886, a local wealthy businessman, Reb Shmuel Hirsch Kamenecki, chose Ettil as a wife for his son Binyomin. Binyomin was involved in various aspects of his father’s enterprises, but was unable to do the heavy manual labor required for logging and farming because one side of his body had been paralyzed by smallpox. The orphan bride and lame groom married and moved to Kaliskovkeh to live near Reb Binyomin’s family. A few years later, the couple — now a family with a three children — moved back to Dolhinov. Reb Binyomin was limited in his ability to work, but at first his father supplemented the growing family’s income. Later on, when much of Reb Shmuel Hirsch’s estate was appropriated by the Russian czar, Ettil was forced to think of creative ways to bring more money into the home. For a while she cooked for local university students. Despite her efforts, Ettil’s family lived on a lower economic standard than her husband’s family, yet Ettil expended great efforts in maintaining a home of calmness; she focused on the good and not on the difficulties.

Years later, when discussing aspects of chinuch, Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky stated that bachurim living in a dormitory would benefit from spending Shabbos in a family environment, contending that there is much to learn from observing family interactions and testifying that he himself had learned much from watching his parents. On Shabbos, the Kamenecki home revolved around Torah. Reb Binyomin, accompanied by some of his sons, would wake up at 2:00 a.m. Shabbos morning to learn Torah in the shul before davening. On Shabbos afternoons, Ettil would read the Tzenah U’Renah out loud in Yiddish for her children and other women. Although the Kameneckis were not of rabbinical stock, Ettil encouraged her son Yaakov’s progress in Torah learning. Rav Yaakov learned the aleph-beis sounds and nekudos at a young age from a yeshivah student who ate daily in his parents’ house. With his mother’s encouragement, he soon learned how to blend the letters and sounds and was proficient in reading before he started cheder. When Rav Yaakov reached the age of twelve, Reb Binyomin and Ettil knew the time had come to decide their son’s future. The family was poverty stricken. Rav Yaakov was old enough to get a job and help bring in income that the family

Although the

Kameneckis were

not of rabbinical stock, Ettil

encouraged her son Yaakov’s progress in Torah learning.

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sorely needed. However, after much deliberation, Ettil decided that “my jewel will not sparkle in Dolhinov.” In light of Rav Yaakov’s hasmadah and genius in Torah, she sent him to learn in the big city of Minsk. Ettil did not see her son for two and a half years, until she and Reb Binyomin decided to move to Minsk. When Rav Yaakov returned to his parents’ home, Ettil noticed that in place of bedding he was using sackcloth. When she asked her son about his strange linens, he explained that his original set had been burned in a fire. Ettil began to cry uncontrollably at the thought that her beloved son could have been gravely injured. The Kameneckis’ financial situation did not improve in Minsk. Rav Yaakov’s siblings all contributed their wages for the general household. Ettil used some of this money to buy expensive fruits like apples and oranges, which she served exclusively to Rav Yaakov when he came home after a long day of Torah study. Testimony to the harmony which presided in Ettil’s home is the fact that the other siblings did not complain about the special treats that their brother received with their hard-earned money. One day, soon after Ettil moved to Minsk, Rav Yaakov brought a friend to visit. Ettil immediately sensed a special aura around the boy, who had not reached the age of bar mitzvah. She called Rav Yaakov aside and asked him, “Who is this? The Shechinah rests on him.” On this first meeting, Ettil was already able to feel that Rav Yaakov’s lifelong friend, Rav Aharon Kotler, was steeped in Torah. As Rav Yaakov progressed in his learning and moved from Minsk to Slobodka, the world he knew was shattered by World War I. Separated from his parents by the war, he learned Torah while escaping the Russian draft. His parents were unable to attend his wedding due to the upheaval in Europe at the time. Over the decades, as Rav Yaakov traveled from Slobodka, then to Tzitavyan, where he first served as rabbi, and then to Se-

attle, Toronto and New York, he was noted for his astounding Torah knowledge. In addition to his brilliance in Torah, Rav Yaakov’s hallmark was his attention to all aspects of bein adam l’chaveiro. Chanoch l’naar al pi darko — educate a child according to his way. Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky’s mother, Ettil, gave her son the loving, accepting platform necessary to forge a path in Torah. Story upon story is told of Rav Yaakov’s derech eretz, his listening ear and his love for all he met. Perhaps Rav Yaakov saw these middos first in his mother and then further refined them and adopted them as his own.

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By Rochel Burstyn

eora held the official-looking summons in her hand and dialed her older brother with shaking fingers. “Yitz? I’ve got to go to court. Can you please represent me?” Yitz was a lawyer by profession, a fact she’d never really appreciated before. He was already familiar with the circumstances, so she just gave him the details of her summons and Yitz assured her that he would do whatever he could. Leora hung up and began pacing. She had been renting her twobedroom apartment for over ten years now, ever since her marriage; it was the only home her five children had ever known. Yes, it was crowded, but moving to a bigger place hadn't been an option. After all, money was tight. But as her family grew, neighbors began to complain, because although her children were very well-behaved, they were, after all, children, and children are sometimes noisy. The apartment manager, Penina Clapman, began to crack down on her, and it wasn't long before Leora received an eviction notice. She had thirty days. Leora searched for a house in a nervous frenzy, davening hard that Hashem should grant her success. On

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Day Twenty-Eight, Leora found a house that she could afford. There was only one problem: the current occupants would only be vacating in another month. Having no choice, Leora explained the situation and pled with Penina to allow her family to remain in their present home for one more month, but the apartment manager refused. The next day, Leora found another official-looking letter in her mailbox, informing her that if her family didn’t vacate the apartment within a week, they would be taken to court. The court date was two weeks later, and although there were piles of halfpacked boxes all over the apartment, and she had a million things to do, Leora was forced to hire a babysitter to take her kids to the park. She arrived at the courthouse at same time as her brother. At first they made small talk, but as they were close and spoke frequently, Yitz already knew how Leora's family was, and Leora knew about Yitz's latest shidduch fiasco. Their talk quickly turned to the case. Just then Penina Clapman arrived. She greeted Leora politely, and Leora introduced her brother. Then Penina

December 2011/ January 2012 / Tevas 5772

sat opposite Leora to wait with them for the case to be called. Leora, who was uncomfortable around Penina ever since the eviction (although before that, they had been on very good terms), jumped up, ostensibly to look for the washroom. She took her time, walking around the courthouse and wondering about the other people there, milling about. When she returned twenty minutes later, she was surprised to find Yitz and Penina laughing together. Penina, a look of suppressed delight in her eyes, turned to Leora and said, “My lawyer is running a little late; he should be here in about ten minutes.” “Oh … okay,” Leora replied, as she nervously picked up a random flyer about road safety to keep her hands busy. Then she sat stiffly back down, in the only available seat in the waiting room, next to Yitz and opposite Penina. “Leora,” Penina said suddenly and sincerely, “I’m so sorry that it’s come to this. You've always been a good tenant. This is the worst part of my job, and I feel terrible, but I had no choice. My superiors were insistent, and my job was on the line.” “I understand.” Leora told her. “You

were always nice to us. I’m not taking it personally.” She paused. “I’m going to see if they have a coke machine here. I’m thirsty.” Nervous, more like it, but she wasn’t going to admit it. And off she went, a little happier with Penina’s confession, but still awkward about the whole situation. It felt strange to be in a place where criminals were tried, albeit in a different section of the courthouse. As she sipped her coke and walked slowly back to the waiting area, she saw from the distance that her manager’s lawyer had arrived, and she sped up. Yitz introduced them. “This is my client, Leora. Leora, this is Mr. Herman.” Mr. Herman gave her a cursory glance and grimaced like he had just seen a roach. Yitz, who looked disgusted at Mr.Herman's rudeness, beckoned Leora into the courtroom, where they would wait for the judge. Mr. Herman and Penina

house – which was in the exact location she had always wanted, and just what her family needed size-wise -- she had put all her savings into the down payment, and was anxious about how she would manage the mortgage payments. When Leora had received the eviction noticed, she had gone to her rav and asked him what to do. He had encouraged her to buy a house, even though she couldn't really afford it, and had given her a brachah. "Things will work out," the rav had told her. "Have bitachon." When Leora received the court summons, she again spoke to the rav. "Everything happens for a reason. Have bitachon," he reiterated. And so here she was. It was hectic and messy in her small apartment, and there were boxes everywhere. Her kids were excited about the impending move, but because of the cramped conditions, were fighting constantly. And on top of all

of knocking at the front door. "It's probably one of the neighbors," she thought to herself. "They have been so welcoming and wonderful." But to her surprise, it was her old apartment manager Penina. She was holding a small bouquet of flowers, which she awkwardly thrust at Leora. “For your new house, mazel tov,” she said. “And I just wanted to tell you my news.” She jerked out her hand and flashed her diamond ring. “Oh, mazel tov!” Leora said. She was about to ask, “Who is the lucky man?” but the words melted on her lips as she saw her beaming brother Yitz walk up the path, holding a bottle of liquor. “You never said a word!” Leora squealed. “Come in, come in! I can’t believe it. Wow! How, I mean, when did this happen?” She babbled. Penina and Yitz, smiling shyly and

IT’S ALL ABOUT BITACHON followed a few minutes later and sat a few seats behind them. “Mr. Herman is being difficult," Yitz said to Leora in a hushed tone. "I suggested that we try to resolve this issue outside of court, but he refused. Your manager seems nice, though.” Before Leora could reply, an officially dressed man opened the door and called out, “All rise for the honorable Judge David Green.” Everyone in the room stood up, and the two lawyers approached the podium. After the judge sat down, Mr. Herman began. “Your honor, as per law, we moved to evict the defendant from her apartment due to overcrowding. We gave her family thirty days to move out. They are still in the apartment.” Yitz added quickly, “Your honor, my client has bought a house; however, she will only obtain possession at the end of the month.” As the lawyers argued the case, with Yitz requesting that his client only be required to pay rent for another month, and Mr. Herman arguing that she receive a heavy fine, Leora's mind wandered. While she was happy with the new

that, Leora was very worried about money (or rather, the lack of it). Suddenly, Leora realized the case had been dismissed. The law jargon had gone over her head, and she had tuned out for most of it and missed the judge's decision. “Hashem,”she thought to herself, “You are the true judge. Please help me!” The four filed out of the room and once in the hallway, the two lawyers shook hands, their expressions unreadable. As the manager – with a small smile and a wave -- and Mr. Herman disappeared through the front door, Leora turned to her brother. “What just happened?” They sat down and Yitz smiled. “The judge ruled in our favor. You only have to pay another month's rent, as long as you're out by November second.” Three weeks later, Leora was in her new house. She had almost finished unpacking, and sitting on her couch in a haze of exhausted wonder, she looked around. She had a home; she was so happy. If only money weren't such an issue. Her first mortgage payment was due in a week, and she still didn’t know how she would pay it. Leora was startled by a sudden burst

glowing at each other, took turns telling Leora about how after they met at the courthouse, they each separately sought out the other. “I was going to tell you; I usually do tell you these things,” Yitz pointed out. “But you were so busy with packing and moving, I didn’t want to bother you.” They were halfway out the door when Yitz turned to Leora with a big smile. “By the way, Leora, you were the official matchmaker. Both of us are older and were putting aside a lot of money for whoever would make our shidduch. We are both so grateful. Here’s your shadchanus gelt. No ifs, ands or buts. It’s yours.” Leora, overwhelmed, took the envelope and bade them good-bye and mazel tov and thank you. After they disappeared in the distance, she closed the door and opened the envelope. She would be able to afford her mortgage now. So that's why she had to go to court. The True Judge had done it again. She was just supposed to have bitachon.

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Chanukah Shaindy Klein

typical Chanukah menu sounds as though it were planned by the undertwelve crowd: potato pancakes, fried, of course, in lots of oil; sweet cream-cheese rugelach; strawberryjam-filled donuts (sufganiyot) covered in powdered sugar; fried apple fritters; cheese-filled donuts fried in oil and dipped in honey; cheese blintzes; and more. Is it all just a ploy to keep kids lingering around the candles and enjoying a family meal? Not at all! Chanukah food traditions have their origins in the first years that the holiday was celebrated, and are meant to remind us of certain miracles associated with the events of Chanukah itself. And of course, remembering the miracles and the freedom that we’re all celebrating adds a special flavor to everything we serve… Why do we eat fried foods during Chanukah? Most of us are familiar with the miracle of the oil — that one day’s supply of oil lasted for eight days. And we know this is the origin of the mitzvah to light the menorah for eight days. It is also the reason why we have the custom of eating foods cooked in oil. But there are deeper connections between olive oil and Chanukah. Mystically, both the menorah and the oil used to light it are associated with chochmah, wisdom. The war between the Greeks and the Jews was also a war over whose wisdom would endure. The Greeks wanted everyone under their rule to think and study exactly as they

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did. They were violently opposed to the idea of G dly wisdom, and so forbade the study of Torah. Also, the word shemen, Hebrew for oil, contains the same letters as shemoneh, eight, the number of days that the miracle of the oil lasted. So now we know the basic connection between fried foods and Chanukah. But where did all the different traditional Chanukah foods come from? Over the centuries, different Jewish communities throughout the world have found a variety of ways to incorporate both oil and dairy (due to the miracle that occurred when Yehudis, daughter of Mattisyahu the High Priest, cut off the Greek general’s head after tempting him with wine and cheese) into their Chanukah meals. One of the most famous, Israeli sufganiyot, may actually derive from a yeast dough pastry mentioned in the Talmud. These pastries were cooked in oil and called sufganin (absorbent) because they absorbed a lot of oil in cooking. They did not contain milk, but were sweetened and perhaps even filled with honey. Since they were cooked in oil, they became a Chanukah staple early on. In India, the sweet yeast dough remained primarily a flour and honey or sugar combination, but milk and butter were added as well, making the Indian version of sufganiyot also a dairy treat. In Ashkenazi communities, where olive oil was scarce and expensive, goose or chicken fat was often used for frying. Potato latkes, apple fritters, and other nondairy fried foods became the norm, although today when olive (or other pareve) oil is affordable and commonly used, dairy is often added — usually in the form of a dollop of sour cream on top.

3-dimenSional Flower Shaped FritlaCh One can’t get more traditional than serving fritlach on Chanukah. The sooner you eat these after making them, the better they are, although you might want to give them time to cool first! Ingredients: 3 eggs 5 T. sugar pinch of salt 4 T. wine 4 T. oil 2½ cups flour (more if necessary) oil for deep frying confectioners’ sugar for topping Directions: Combine eggs, sugar, salt, wine, oil and flour into a soft dough. On a floured surface, roll out the dough so that it’s paper thin. Cut out 3 circles with the floured rim of a drinking glass. Place one circle on top of the other. Press down the center of the circle with your fingers to stick all 3 circles together. Cut ½-inch slits all around, starting from the outside and cutting in towards the center, leaving approximately ½ an inch between each slit. Repeat with remaining dough. Heat oil in a frying pan for deep frying. Fry on both sides until golden brown. Remove and drain on paper towels. Sprinkle with confectioners’ sugar. Serve fresh. Yeild: 10 Fritlach

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hints & tips If making and freezing yeast dough ahead of time, wrap with plastic wrap and let rise for a minute before placing in the freezer. This will fill all the minuscule air pockets with dough, eliminating freezer burn and that “freezer taste.”

SafeTY WhIle frYINg: The Home Safety Council recommends the following precautions when frying foods:

Do not leave the stove unattended.

Turn the handles of frying pans toward the back of the stove so that children can’t reach up and grab them.

Keep dishtowels, paper goods, paper bags and curtains at least three feet away from the range when cooking. Roll up loose-fitting sleeves.

Keep hot pans, trays and foods away from the edge of the counter so children cannot reach them.

Have a safe and happy Chanukah!

doughnutS (SuFganin)

Donuts are a terrific old-fashioned treat. There are never enough to last eight days! Ingredients: 5 cups flour 1 oz. yeast 3 oz. margarine 2 T. sugar pinch of salt 1 cup water or milk 3 egg yolks 1/3 cup orange juice oil for frying Directions: Knead flour, yeast, margarine, sugar, salt, water or milk, egg yolks, and orange juice into a soft dough. Allow dough to rise in a warm place for 1 hour. On a floured surface, roll out dough to ½-inch thickness. Cut circles using the floured rim of a drinking glass or a donut cutter. Heat oil in a frying pan for deep frying and fry each circle for 2–3 minutes on each side, until golden brown. Remove donuts from oil with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels to absorb excess oil. Note: To prevent oil from burning, place 1 carrot into oil. Icing: White version: ¾ cup icing sugar 1 T. oil 3 T. boiling water (add more as needed very little at a time till desired texture) Brown version: Add 3 T. cocoa powder to the white version above Mocha version: Add 1 T. coffee granules, diluted in hot water, to the white verison above Place all ingredients in a bowl and mix by hand. Cover donuts in a variety of designs and colors. Have fun!

Yeild: 40 Donuts 112

December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

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Health

Vitamin D Deficiency An EpidEmic An interview with Professor Benjamin Glaser, MD, Director of the Endocrinology and Metabolism Service at Hadassah University Hospital Debbie Shapiro

At fifty, Shira felt like a decrepit old lady. “My whole body ached; my muscles, my bones, everything. Just walking or getting out of a chair was difficult.” But when Shira discovered that she was too weak to pick up a bottle of soda, she realized that something serious was going on. “I went to dozens of doctors, who sent me to dozens of tests, but they couldn’t find anything the matter with me. I was told that my symptoms were psychosomatic and prescribed antidepressants. But I continued digging deeper.” One doctor diagnosed fibromyalgia — and recommended antidepressants. Another thought it was polymyositis, an inflammatory muscle disease, and suggested a series of invasive tests. Finally, one doctor — “a gutte shaliach” — told Shira to test her vitamin D level. Anything under twenty is considered a severe deficiency. Shira had five. “When the doctor saw the result and said, ‘You must be in agony,’ I started crying. Finally someone believed me!” Until recently, vitamin D deficiency was almost unheard of; today, it’s so widespread that the Israeli Ministry of Health has considered recommending that everyone — across the board — take vitamin D supplements. Professor Benjamin Glaser, MD, Director of Endocrinology and Metabolism Service at Hadassah University Hospital, was kind enough to speak with us about the problem. 114

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JL: First of all, what is vitamin D? BG: Basically, it’s a hormone that we get primarily from the sun. Vitamin D enhances the absorption of calcium and phosphorus from the intestine and promotes their deposition onto the bone, which is why it’s so important for bone health, and, as we are discovering more and more, for health in general. JL: Is vitamin D deficiency a new problem? BG: The problem itself is not new. We just didn’t know about it. In the past, the blood test to check vitamin D levels in the blood was very expensive and most laboratories didn’t have right equipment. Today, however, the test is automated and easily available. For years we knew that those populations not exposed to the sun, such as the elderly or the housebound, do not receive sufficient vitamin D. But it wasn’t until we started measuring the general population, the people who live normal lives and do go outside, that we discover the extent of the problem. To some extent the problem is getting worse. The dermatologists are constantly warning us against excessive sun exposure — and rightly so — and more people are following their recommendations. But as with anything, it doesn’t pay to go to extremes. JL: So how much exposure to the sun does a person need? BG: About five to thirty minutes of exposure to the skin on your face, arms, back or legs (without sunscreen) twice a week. But since that’s not always possible, I recommend taking vitamin D supplements. Vitamin D supplements are inexpensive, readily available, and can be purchased without a prescription. Vitamin D deficiency is so widespread that everyone across the board should probably take the supplements, unless there is a medical contraindication. JL: Your specialty is endocrinology. Why does an endocrinologist deal with vitamin D deficiency? BG: As an endocrinologist, I treat, among other things, metabolism problems and problems of the parathyroid gland. We discovered that a lot of these problems are related to vitamin D deficiency. So I started looking into it more deeply. JL: Why is vitamin D deficiency problematic? BG: Severe vitamin D deficiency in small children causes rickets. The bones become soft and bend easily. Although today such a severe form of vitamin D deficiency is rare, I did see one case when I was a medical student on rotation in Beer Sheva. It was a Jewish child of Indian origin. Although the family lived in the desert, both the mother and the child stayed completely covered at all times. The baby wasn’t getting any vitamin D from his mother’s milk, nor was he getting it from the sun, and his mother did not give him the prescribed vitamin D supplements. A classical textbook case of rickets in the middle of one of the sunniest places on earth! We need vitamin D to absorb calcium and calcium is nec-

essary for many different mechanisms in the body. The most obvious is for healthy bone. If we are unable to absorb calcium due to insufficient vitamin D, the body breaks down the bones to get the calcium it needs which leads to osteoporosis, fragile, porous bones. Poorly mineralized bone can cause bone pain, which disappears once the vitamin D levels return to normal. We need calcium for muscle function, so a vitamin D deficiency often results in decreased muscle strength and muscle pain. One of my patients had such a severe vitamin D deficiency that she was incapable of sitting up in bed without assistance. After massive doses of vitamin D, she eventually returned to normal. For reasons that are not entirely clear, vitamin D is necessary for balance, so replacing vitamin D decreases the probability of falling. That, in turn, decreases the likelihood of fractures. As with the bones and muscles, the damage is reversible and once the vitamin D is restored to normal, balance is restored. There have been a lot of professional articles showing how adequate vitamin D levels decrease the risk of both cancer and autoimmune diseases. JL: Why? BG: I don’t think that anyone knows the exact mechanism, but we do know that our cells, our muscles and our hormones all need calcium to function properly, and as we explained earlier, vitamin D has a direct impact on calcium absorption. We always knew that there were vitamin D receptors in the gastrointestinal tract, but we’re now discovering that they also exist elsewhere. So it’s very possible that the decreased cancer risk associated with proper vitamin D levels is immunological. We just don’t know for sure. But what we do know, at least partially, is the vitamin’s impact on us. Adequate vitamin D levels in the blood decrease the risk of cancer and autoimmune diseases, such as multiple sclerosis and juvenile diabetes. The benefits are broad spectrum. JL: I’ve heard that vitamin D deficiency can cause depression and that correcting the deficiency can cure the depression. Is that true? BG: Clinically, I’ve seen a relationship between vitamin D deficiency and depression, but I am not aware of studies that prove that connection. But it makes sense. After all, feeling better and having more energy would have a positive impact on one’s mental state. JL: The symptoms of vitamin D deficiency are vague and cover a broad spectrum. Is it often misdiagnosed? BG: A lot of people diagnosed with parathyroid problems are actually vitamin D deficient. Some people diagnosed with muscle pain syndromes, fibromyalagia, polymyositis and/or chronic fatigue syndrome are really lacking sufficient vitamin D, and correcting the vitamin D will improve their con-

dition drastically. Heart palpitations, muscle weakness, bone pain, these are all very nonspecific symptoms and are often viewed as psychosomatic, when in fact they can be caused by lack of vitamin D. Of course I’m not claiming that everyone who feels tired or achy will take vitamin D and feel fantastic afterwards. It’s not a miracle drug, a quick cure-all, but for some people the change is dramatic. JL: Vitamin D helps the body absorb calcium, so I assume that if a person is vitamin D deficient, he would also be missing calcium. BG: I wouldn’t put it that strongly, since one can force calcium in if you take enough, but yes, this is basically true. Calcium supplements won’t do anything unless there is vitamin D to help absorption. JL: Is it recommended to take calcium in addition to the vitamin D? BG: In general, I recommend that everyone over age fifty take supplementary calcium. We need between one to one and a half grams of calcium per day and older people usually don’t get that much from their diet. Therefore, they should take one or two tablets of calcium per day. I know that some people recommend taking calcium with magnesium or claim that one type of calcium is better than another, but I personally have not seen any difference. JL: A lot of our readers are mothers of young children. Any recommendations specific for that age group? BG: Although everyone should get enough vitamin D, babies are especially vulnerable to a vitamin D deficiency. Their bones are developing at a very rapid rate, so they need more calcium than older people, and, as I explained before, vitamin D is necessary to absorb the calcium. For healthy bones in the future, it is imperative that babies get enough vitamin D. Since most babies do not get sufficient vitamin D from natural sources, pediatricians and well-baby clinics routinely prescribe vitamin D drops. For their children’s future health, it’s extremely important that mothers remember to give their babies the supplementary vitamin D drops. JL: In America, vitamin D is routinely added to the milk. What about in Israel? BG: Vitamin D is added to the Israeli skim milk, but it’s what I’d call vitamin D corrected, bringing it up to the level of whole milk. Some people are questioning the normal levels of the vitamin D test, known as the 25-hydroxy vitamin D test. Since almost eighty percent of the people tested are vitamin D deficient or insufficient, they suggest that perhaps the definition of normal is wrong — after all, we can’t all be abnormal! But the suggested normal range is not based on the average person being tested. Studies have shown that to normalize the parathyroid hormone, calcium secretions and other tests, the vitamin D level must be in the range of 30 ng/ml. If the test results are below 20 ng/ml, December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

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other blo o d tests will also be abnormal, and all these abnormal blood tests are signs of abnormal body function. JL: So maybe everyone should just take the vitamin without bothering taking a blood test. BG: Many people agree with you! Since most people need supplementary vitamin D and 2,000 units per day will not harm anyone, even if they are not vitamin D deficient, it makes a lot of sense to just tell everyone to take the supplement. It’s certainly cost effective. The test costs several hundred shekels, whereas a month’s worth of vitamin D cost approximately twenty shekels! If I were advising the Israeli Ministry of Health, I would recommend giving the vitamin to everyone and saving the test as a diagnostic tool. Personally, however, I prefer to test my patients. If the results are just a bit below normal, I prescribe between 1,000 to 1,500 units per day, whereas if they are extremely low I push it up quickly with a much higher dose than the recommended 2,000 units per day. But I really can’t give a strong cost-effective argument against treating everyone. What I would be against, however, is not treating anyone. Dr. Tzur, an endocrinologist in Kupat Cholim Meuhedet, conducted a study in which she tested the vitamin D level of two different populations: chareidi yeshivah students and hesder yeshivah students. One hundred percent of the chareidi yeshivah students were severely deficient, which is what she expected. Surprisingly enough, however, despite their regularly partaking in outdoor sports, a large percentage of the hesder yeshivah students were also lacking sufficient vitamin D. One of the interesting things that we’ve learned from measuring vitamin D levels is that what was once considered the minimum daily requirement is really much too low. The recommended vitamin D intake was 600 units per day for children, 400 units per day for adults and 800 units per day for people over fifty. But we’ve learned that those recommendations were wrong and that everyone needs a minimum of 1,000 units per day. Multivitamins only provide, perhaps, 200 units, which is far from being sufficient. Bottom line, take supplementary vitamin D! In Israel, the easiest and cheapest way to get vitamin D is to use the vitamin D drops normally prescribed to infants. One of the pharmaceutical companies recently came out with a product made specifically for adults, but it’s really the same baby drops in a different package. Vitamin D can be taken daily, weekly or even monthly; it 116

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makes no difference. In Israel, each drop contains 200 units, so you’ll need ten drops to get the recommended 2,000 units. It’s also possible to take seventy drops per week, or three hundred drops once a month. In the United States, tablets containing 50,000 units each are available, so if you take one tablet a month you’re getting close to the recommended 2000 units per day of vitamin D. There are two different types of vitamin D: vitamin D2 and vitamin D3. Although today both are produced synthetically, naturally vitamin D2 is produced from plant material, while vitamin D3 is produced from animal material. Vitamin D3 appears to be much more effective and corrects the blood level faster. It’s also readily available and most of the supplements contain vitamin D3. If yours doesn’t, ask for a different supplement! JL: Is it possible to take too much vitamin D? BG: It’s not impossible, but you’d have to ingest huge amounts, something like 50,000 units a day over a period of time! That’s approximately one bottle of vitamin D drops per day! But the recommended amount — 2,000 units per day or a bottle of baby drops per month — is harmless. JL: Should parents first consult with their pediatrician before giving their children supplementary vitamin D? BG: Although you don’t need a prescription for vitamin D supplements, as with any supplement I don’t think a parent should give it without first talking it over with the child’s pediatrician. JL: My family doctor told me that vitamin D deficiency is an “epidemic.” With the problem so widespread, what’s being done to educate the public? BG: Not much. Especially among the populations most at risk — such as the chareidi community — we need to do more to alert both the community leaders and the man on the street. That’s why writing articles is so important. Bottom line: either get sufficient exposure to the sun or take vitamin D supplements!

Shira was prescribed mega-dosages of vitamin D. “Shortly after I was diagnosed with the deficiency, my orthopedist sent me for a bone scan. It showed dozens of ‘hot spots,’ which the endocrinologist later explained were hairline fractures caused by the lack of vitamin D. No wonder I was in such pain! “It took me about six months until I felt better. For years, my blood tests had been abnormal — there were enzymes showing muscle and bone destruction — but no one understood why. Once my vitamin D levels were normal, these blood tests also became normal.” Today, Shira is healthier than ever. “I have a new lease on life and am able to do things that I never dreamed possible.” This article originally appeared in Shaah Tovah.

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THE RABBI’S

Marriage Manual A famous non-Jewish woman once came to me for advice about her marriage problems. At the end of our discussion, I asked, “Did you consult your priest about this?” “Yes, I did,” she replied. “What did he tell you to do?” “Pray.” “And did you?” “Yes, of course.” “So what happened?” I asked. “The prayer didn’t work, so I went back to the priest.” “What did he say?”

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“He said, ‘Pray harder.’” “And?” “That didn’t work either, so I came to you.” My response: “Giving advice about marriage must be quite a challenge for someone who’s never been married!” Sometime later, one of the members of my synagogue came to speak with me. Although I had spent hours counseling him, his marriage was a mess. “Rabbi,” he asked me in despair, “what do you suggest I do now?” My response: “Pray.”

RABBI AARON LAINE

AM A PRACTICING RABBI. OVER THE YEARS that I have spent counseling hundreds of couples with marriage problems, I’ve come to the conclusion that there is a need for a system to help people improve their relationships. It’s vital to keep families whole and healthy, both for the welfare of society in general and for the Jewish people in particular. It just makes sense. How can a lifestyle be considered good and healthy when the marriages associated with it are falling apart and kids are growing up in broken homes? The information that I am providing will help you to understand your own behavior as well as the behavior of your spouse. By working on yourself, you’ll become a better husband or wife and your relationship will automatically improve. But first, I’d like to ask a question. Marriage has been around since the beginning of mankind, yet, in so many cases, it’s far from ideal. On the other hand, man’s accomplishments in the fields of technology, medicine and the sciences are unbelievable. We have developed the technology to enable help people with severe disabilities to communicate and manipulate objects by using their brainwaves. We have objects with properties that alchemists could only dream of. We’ve sent people to outer space, not as scientists, but as tourists. Yet despite all these advances, virtually every couple, beginning with Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, had to overcome issues to make their marriage work. Why haven’t we discovered a method to make the most fundamental institution in society work?

Addressing the Challenge

It’s not like we haven’t tried. Some of the greatest philosophers, acclaimed psychologists and knowledgeable therapists have addressed the challenge. Over the course of time, they have produced — and still are producing — tens of thousands of pages filled with ideas and advice on how to make a marriage work. Yet my guess is that many of them are divorced or dissatisfied with their own marriages. The reason is obvious. Most people don’t follow the advice and suggestions given by the experts. Why? Because to do so requires effort, dedication and commitment. Rabbi Ma-

nis Friedman, author of Doesn’t Anyone Blush Anymore and an acclaimed expert in the field of marriage counseling, put it this way, “For marriage to work, first you need to be willing to divorce yourself…from yourself.” It’s hard to make behavioral changes and break addictive habits like smoking and drinking. Changing our nature is even more difficult, yet it can be done. Let’s begin by exploring some of the most common phrases used to describe problem relationships. These phrases include: “Lack of communication” — a politically correct code for “Men have a difficult time communicating. They prefer to manage their problems alone, and aren’t accustomed to sharing their feelings.” “Unrealistic expectations” — translated, this expression means, “When I married him, I was positive that he’d make me feel loved, cherished and cared for. But now I discovered that men don’t do those things. I expected him to be a real gentleman. Instead, he’s focused on his work, passionate about his hobbies and close to his friends. I not only feel neglected, I am neglected!” “Constant commands and complaints” — the masculine definition for requests that range from picking up your socks to helping the kids with their homework to spending more quality time with the wife. Are you ready to give up? Don’t! Experience has taught me that each of these grievances is a smoke screen for a core problem. Find and resolve the core problem and the symptoms will disappear. Let me give an example to illustrate the benefit of understanding the core problem. Suppose you have a child who is bright and intelligent but is not doing well in school. You would naturally be upset and form different theories as to why your child is failing. Depending on how you were raised, you might blame the child for a lack of effort and interest. If the problem continues, you might use rewards or punishments to pressure the child. You might accuse the teacher or school of not properly addressing the issue. You’d view the problem completely differently, however, if you found out that your child needs glasses or has a chronic hearing problem, is dyslexic or is hyperactive. Instead of trying to control the symptoms, you’d address the cause. December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

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Learning to Be Happy

So let’s begin by addressing the problem of happiness. I once asked a group of students, “How long does it take to become a lawyer?” “Four years,” someone said. “A doctor with a specialty?” “Ten years,” was the reply. “And what’s more difficult, being a lawyer, a doctor or a spouse?” “A spouse,” was the overwhelming response. “Before we get married, how much time do we devote to learning about relationships?” “None.” “Isn’t that absurd?” I asked. “Wouldn’t it make sense to spend some time prior to marriage to learn how to make it a success?” Someone in the audience shouted, “Then no one would ever get married!” If I were to ask you, “What are you looking for in life?” how would you respond? Do you desire peace? Money? Power? Health? Happiness? All of the above? No matter what you respond, it usually boils down to one thing — happiness. A lack of health or peace impacts my happiness. An inability to pay the rent, grocery bill or children’s school creates anxiety, which affects our ability to be happy. Now that we know that we’re looking for happiness, how do we go about obtaining it? Can we buy it in the mall? Does it have a price? As absurd as it sounds, many people actually believe happiness is a commodity that can be purchased. They confuse a moment of fun or pleasure with happiness and spend their money trying to find it. Eventually they become addicted to the high of buying something new, so when the rush is over, they have to run out to buy or do something else. This is similar to a person who is addicted to a chemical substance. He’s addicted to the substance, but why did he take the drug in the first place? Because he wanted to feel happy and confused a quick high for the feeling of true happiness. Are some people just born happy while others don’t stand a chance? It would seem so. Just as there are optimists and pessimists, extroverts and introverts, there also exist people 120

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who are naturally happier then others. Yet, although some people have a naturally happy disposition, unless there’s a chemical imbalance or disorder that requires treatment, every human being can be happy. True, in some circumstances it requires more effort. But happiness is definitely within every person’s reach. I would like to point out that according to Judaism happiness is not a destination. Instead, it’s a process that enables us to successfully reach our destination. The Torah says, “Ivdu es Hashem b’simchah, serve Hashem in joy.” The goal is to serve G-d to the best of our ability, and that can only happen if we are happy with what we are doing.

Practical Steps to Being Happy

Happiness is a process. Since it doesn’t cost anything, it’s not dependent on our standard of living or socio-economic level. However, for most of us, it takes continual practice to integrate happiness as a natural part of our lives. Here are a few exercises to help you achieve happiness (at least until you read the newspaper or turn on the radio or computer!). 1. Keep count. At night, before going to sleep, think of three good things that happened during the day and analyze how and why they occurred. At the end of the week, review all the good things that happened to you that week. 2. Enjoy life. Take time to savor (and be thankful for) the things in life you enjoy, such as a warm shower, a good breakfast or a sunny day. 3. Set an achievable goal and then go for it! It doesn’t have to be earth shattering. It could be something as simple as eating cottage cheese instead of lasagna for lunch. But if you set a goal and meet it, you will feel happy. 4. Make someone smile. Practice random acts of kindness. Make sure to perform different acts each day so that it doesn’t become habitual. The more you help others to be happy, the happier you’ll become. Happiness is the first ingredient in the formula for a healthy marriage. Stay tuned for the next installment…

Do-It-Yourself

Simchahs Chany Rosengarten

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eaving it to the caterer’s whim

was not an option when Suri made her first bar mitzvah. She knew that on her budget, the caterer’s fare would be sorry, or at least not with the same flair she liked to host her family and friends. So she did it herself. “The simchah was so warm and homey; people wouldn’t leave after the event. I had people sitting and schmoozing on my couches until after midnight.” But that wasn’t the only benefit of bringing her son’s bar mitzvah home. Suri was able to transform her dining room and playroom into the ballrooms of her dreams. No longer limited to the taste of the halls she would have rented, she now had her own four walls. She put a large bouquet of flowers on her banister, and set about dressing up her tables. When the hour came, she greeted each guest at the door and welcomed them into her home. The lights shone, her bar mitzvah boy beamed, and Suri, surrounded by her guests, smiled. Suri says she couldn’t have done it alone, and her cleaning lady was an integral part of the festivities. So were her friends who pitched in. Yet she also admits that the day after, her cleaning lady suffered from overwork syndrome and chose that day to take a vacation. Suri claims she survived to tell the tale, even planning to host additional simchahs at home. She cautions that only those who can be creative on an even keel should do it. “I’m not saying that my children didn’t have scrambled eggs for dinner the next night. But they weren’t my scapegoats when things got hectic.” If you plan to let out your frustration on your kids when the napkins come out rumpled, it’s not worth it. Leave the event to a party planner or caterer. On the other hand, giving your kids tasks like running out for some soda, tying strings on the souvenir or arranging chairs around the table keeps them involved and happy. As a guest at Suri’s simchah, I enjoyed the unique setup and warm welcome. Here are the tips she shared with me:

Prepare

✽ When you spot a pretty dish on sale at your outlet store, buy it. These dishes will come in handy later. Bowls, ladles, linen napkins, pretty paper goods, and pitchers are all worthy of your simchah table. So stock up, especially if you are making a simchah in the near future. ✽ Two weeks before the simchah, visit a cheap party store to see what’s available. Purchase items that match your theme. ✽ Plan a menu that’s easy to prepare. If you have a freezer, consider cooking things in advance. Decide whether you will do it yourself or get a network of friends involved to cut the salad or fry the schnitzel. ✽ Purchase specialty ingredients in advance. Inform your friends of your simchah and distribute jobs to anyone offering to help. If you will garnish your plate with sugar crystals, enlist your friend to do it now. If you want to have kugel on the bar, tell your neighbor that you’d appreciate a kugel in a square pan. ✽ Start by preparing the nonperishable food. For example, if you plan to put a chocolate waffle into the drink, temper and mold the chocolate a week in advance.

Set Up

setting up a simchah yourself has advantage of carrying your signature. Play around with decorative items to decide on the look. ✽ Start setting up two days in advance by preparing tables and chairs. Pull those folding chairs out of your storage, or from the gemachim or rentals that offer round, oval, square or rectangular shapes. Take into account the size of your room and number of people you expect. ✽ Color. Choose your color scheme to create the mood. Use two base colors with two coordinating colors to add splashes to the décor. Darker, deep colors like wine, navy or purple are for a subdued look. Light colors like baby yellow, greens and peaches are for a lighter touch. Combine a dark and light contrast; tie it together with another shade. ✽ Tablecloths are the foundation of your setup. If you have your own, take them out, look them over to ensure their condition and starch them. Tablecloths start your decorations off on the right base, so you might want to rent.

When choosing tablecloths, go with solid colors that will accentuate your color scheme. Choose mint green and white if your centerpiece will be a spray of white lilies or baby breath. Choose deep maroon for a gold and crystal theme. Size your tablecloths to hang down low, but not sweep the floor. Ensure that you have ample tablecloths to cover the tables and coordinating buffets. Go with one or two colors that tie together. Try a dark color with a light runner spanning the center. Consider a crème tablecloth with a royal blue tablet in the center. ✽ Flowers. From the minimal to an elaborate bouquet, flowers enliven your table. A single bloom in a vase adds a tall, graceful look. A plump bouquet that bows under its own weight gives your table vibrancy. Talk to your florist. Discuss color schemes and prices. Most bouquets can be done up with a minimal effort. For a minimalist but elegant affect, choose roses and splay them out in a row of three identical vases, each holding a single bloom. For an exuberant effect, choose exotic flowers and mix them with the traditional. Floating flowers are an easy stunt to give a wow effect without breaking the bank. Add marbles on the bottom of the vase, flowers in a bowl of water, and candles floating on top. ✽ Candles. Candles welcome your guests into your home with the soft glow of ambiance. Go with small candles in crystal cups, large candles set directly on the table or on a bed of marbles or flowers, or a bunch of tall tapers set in a candelabrum. Choose a smell that won’t detract from the food aroma. ✽ Centerpieces. A centerpiece adds focus and ties the elements in the room together. A white branch for a frosty winter theme, a tall jar of jalapeños for spice, a decorative water canister, a Judaic item, or a three-dimen-

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sional work of art pull your flair to the center of the table. ✽ Props. Less is more. If your table already has flowers and candles, a pitcher of water with a lemon floating on top will do. You won’t need a cake stand, a bencher stand, and another centerpiece. Choose from your collection wisely, and play around. Put it on the table, see what affect it has, and take it off. Make sure your table flows smoothly. ✽ Snow. For a burst of pizzazz, throw little somethings all over. Try flower petals in the fresh or silk variety. Crystal balls in your color family sparkle up the table. Small silk flowers, butterflies, paper cutouts or even jelly beans if the occasion calls for it can be used. ✽ Settings. Your setting can be traditional, with cups and knives. Set up a charger and plate, spoons, forks and knives. Include a fish knife if that’s on your menu or a soup spoon for soup. Place crystal goblets for each drink on the menu including a wine, water and drink cup. Choose between paper or real dishes. If you have invested in a set of dishes, now’s the time to use it. It gives a very royal feel to the table. Paper plates take less work and there are many beautiful options. If you have real silverware, use them. If you will be using disposable, ensure they won’t break when plying the meat. ✽ Napkins. Napkins can be the paper variety; you can play around with the various options and get the perfect choice. Choose two coordinating colors that tie into your theme, or a print that makes a statement. Linen napkins take washing and pressing but are often worth the effort, if you’re doing a solid look. These linen napkins can be purchased in outlet stores or rented. To enhance your setting, drape them from under the charger, fan them out on the plates, roll them and set them next to the forks, or do a cool fold. Napkin rings are trinkets that add a lot. From paper rings that have a printed bar mitzvah logo on them, to crystal rings, to sterling silver or wire with a tchatchke hanging on them, they add fun in an unobtrusive way. ✽ Place cards. If you will arrange seating in advance, create cards that coordinate with the event. Cards with a neat script and border are for

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formal affairs. If your event is a party with a fun element, make the cards reflect that. ✽ Entrée. You want to have something on the table so that guests can sit down and have a bit right away. Challah rolls, bread, twists or something to wash on starts the meal right away. You can coordinate with the décor when choosing your entrée. Keep it light and fresh, something to start the meal and whet the appetite. Start the meal with fruit or vegetable salad. You can give a whole fruit, a fruit salad, or a smoothie in a tall glass with a garnish and straw. A colorful medley of nuts, fruits, and even meats can be set on a bed of lettuce, for dazzling color. ✽ Souvenir. A small favor, photo, or even take-home food makes your simchah memorable even beyond your good-bye at the door. Put a chocolate into a favor box or a framed photo or novelty into a cellophane bag at each place setting. Utilize mini baskets, bags, or holders that match your table to hide even a small cache of after-dinner mints.

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Bar

A bar offers your guests the option of serving themselves and mingling. The bar is an extension of your table in that it reflects the atmosphere you created on the tables. You can have a full bar, complete with the entire menu, or just a dessert bar. If yours is a sit-down, served affair, skip the bar altogether. ✽ Use the same tablecloths, flowers, candles, and props you used on the table for the bar. Set it up at various heights but keep it neat by leaving space between food and decorative items. ✽ The items on your bar can differ from what’s on the table, but should coordinate. For an elegant affair, use crystal candelabras to hold up trays of food on varying heights. For a fresh, summery affair, drop lemons, lime and oranges in water pitchers and place trays of food on top. For a dark purple affair, use peaches and plums in a vase for heights, and for a floral feel, leave rose petals or flowers under your trays. ✽ Set up food in serving dishes or in individual plates. With melon, you can cube them into large trifle bowls, or set up rows of small cups. Salad can be placed in a large salad bowl or set up individually. ✽ Hot foods can be served in chafing dishes laid out in a parallel line. ✽ Show off cakes, the tallest one highlighted by surrounding it with smaller, less elaborate ones.

Examine

✽ Flow. Does the design mesh? Do the individual colors blend? Do the courses on your menu lend themselves to each other? ✽ Do you have everything you’ll need on hand, including ladles, towels and toothpicks? ✽ Are lights, air conditioning and coat racks in place? ✽ Do you have enough cleaning and serving help the day of the simchah and the day after?

Baalei simchah enjoy hosting a simchah in their own homes. They don’t have to shlep, they can greet their guests on their own turf, and the simchah is that much more cozy and individualized. But planning it yourself adds an additional dimension. It’s a place to pour out your creativity in a way your guests will admire and enjoy. It’s a time to welcome guests with your signature flavor written on every wall. Enjoy the preparation, and mazal tov! December 2011 - January 2012 / Tevas 5772

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