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Marinated London Broil Weissmandl-BYG
Coffee Rubbed French Roast Weissmandl-BYG
Welcome Dr. Ellie Bennett
We’re honored to welcome Dr. Ellie Bennett, a seasoned ER physician and longtime Hatzalah paramedic. With over 20 years of emergency medicine experience, including as a 9/11 first responder, he brings expert, compassionate care to the Catskills.
DEPARTMENT
• Primary Care
• Urgent Care
• Dermatology
• Podiatry
• Orthopedic
• Optometry
• Endocrinology
• Cardiovascular
• GYN
• Pain Management
• Spine Specialist
• Psychiatry & Behavioral Health
• Physical Therapy
• Occupational Therapy
• Speech Therapy
• Optical
• Vision Therapy
DR. OPIO, MD
Available all week Urgent Care
DR. STATFELD, MD
Monday & Thursday by appointment only Pediatrics
DR. ITINGEN, MD Orthopedic
Available all week by appointment only
DR. ROMAN KAKZANOV, OD
Tuesday by appointment only Optometry
DR. RUDOWSKY, DPM
Monday & Friday by appointment only Podiatry
VISION THERAPY
By appointment only
EYEWEAR BOUTIQUE
Sunday: 12:00 PM - 5:00 PM
Monday-Thursday: 12:00 PM - 6:00 PM Friday: 10:00 AM - 2:00 PM
LAB SERVICE X-RAYS ON PREMISES
WHITE LAKE - LAPIDUS 74 Shultz Rd, White Lake, NY - by parking lot #1
845.600.1195 FALLSBURG - FOUR CORNERS 5690 NY-42, Fallsburg, NY 12733 845.904.2234
YITZCHOK AMSEL, DNP
Primary & Urgent Care
Sunday-Thursday: 10:00 AM – 7:30 PM
Friday: 10:00 AM – 2:00 PM
DR. MARK BERKOVIC, DPM
Podiatry
Wednesday & Thursday
• Primary Care
• Urgent Care
• Podiatry
• Orthopedic
• Dermatology
• Physical Therapy
DR. TEPLER, MD
Orthopedic
ZEVI KATZ, PT
Physical Therapy
Thursday: 9:00 AM – 4:00 PM
LAB SERVICE
• Primary Care
• Urgent Care
• Podiatry
DR. MOSHE LAZAR, MD
Primary Care
Monday & Thursday: 9:30 AM – 2:30 PM
Tuesday: In the city
Wednesday: 9:30 AM – 11:30 AM Friday: 1:30 PM – 3:30 PM
DR. JEFFREY KNOBEL, DPM
Sunday: 12:00 PM – 8:00 PM Monday: 1:00 PM – 8:00 PM
Wednesday: 12:00 PM – 8:00 PM
Thursday: 12:00 PM – 8:00 PM Friday: 9:30 AM – 4:00 PM Podiatry
NECHAMA JAFFE, PA
Urgent Care
Sunday-Thursday: 11:00 AM – 8:00 PM Friday: 11:00 AM – 2:00 PM
LAB SERVICE
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845.482.5008 / Fax 845.517.1990 / RefuahHealth.org LBoptical@refuahhealth.org / 1885 NY 52 Liberty New York 12754
Stories that make the song play in your head and morph into something greater than the sum of lyrics and melody; an impetus for introspection and growth.
ROUGH TRANSLATION:
Angels of mercies, put our mercies, Before the Lord of mercies
Propagators of prayer, make our prayer heard, Before Hearer of prayer
Propagators of cries, make our cry heard, Before Hearer of cries Presenters of tears, put put our tears
Before King Who gives in to those in tears, Do your best and lift up prayer
Lift up prayer and supplication, Before King high and exalted King high and exalted
This song, excerpted from Selichos, was originally composed by Chaim Banet. R’ Yonasan Schwartz added the Yiddish stanzas.
The door swung open loudly, the peal of children’s laughter and bike horns wafting in.
“Chaim, how was cheder?” I asked, infusing my voice with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. I looked up from the green beans I was stirring, but Chaim’s face was indiscernible.
“Can I go out and play with Shea and Dovi? They’re outside on their scooters.” He asked in lieu of a greeting.
I nodded, sighing. “Oh, and also we got a paper for our mothers to sign,” he recalled, digging into his backpack and pulling up a paper, edges curling inward.
“Oh? What does it say?” I asked off-handedly. I looked up to see Chaim’s face, blank and shuttered, eyes fixed somewhere behind me. A thick mass formed in my throat. I looked away, away from the expressions lurking in these deep brown eyes. I skimmed the paper and forced a smile, trying to keep my voice upbeat.
“It says that you’ll be going on a nature trail next week Tuesday, a full day’s trip. Everyone should bring along lunch, a snack, and water. They need every parent’s signature.”
Chaim whooped and fetched a pen. I scribbled the signature and gave it back to Chaim, who carefully folded it and returned it to his backpack.
“Ok, I’m going out now, Mommy. Bye.” He called yet again. The door slammed again, and I returned to the pot with a weary sigh.
The wilted green beans frowned back at me.
Chaim. My oldest child, bright, sociable, and inquisitive. Chaim, who at nine years old still doesn’t read.
I dredged the chicken strips in flour, transferred it to the pan, and added water and spices to the mixture. The pot boiled. I turned the knob to low and sank onto a chair near the table, sinking my elbows on the sticky surface.
Hashem, what will be with Chaim? What will his future look like?
He was enrolled in a specialized class where the Rebbe devoted extra time to every student’s progress. He was called out of class daily for oneon-one kriah help. We were shelling out hundreds out of pocket every month for a kriah specialist after cheder hours. And still, Chaim couldn’t read.
A feeling of fatigue completely overtook me. The bag of spaghetti on the counter loudly called my name, and I heard the cheery tune that signified the load was done and ready to be transferred to the dryer. But I remained sitting, lacking the basic energy to do any of my usual tasks.
The baby cried just then. Resignedly, I pulled myself up from my perch and bent over her crib. The dark eyes, so like Chaim’s, lit up when she saw me, her pudgy hands reaching for me between the crib bars. My heart ached as I picked her up and snuggled her on my shoulder.
With her, it was so simple. But who would help Chaim, bring the light back into his eyes?
The day felt more difficult than usual, with the weight of Chaim’s difficulties bearing down on me. No, it wasn’t anything new, but the kriah specialists
were only becoming more discouraging as time went on. And any time it reared its head, showing how it could affect the minutiae of Chaim’s life, even out of the classroom, the ache in my heart intensified.
Somehow, I served the kids supper and got them ready for bed. I smiled at them, kissed them goodnight, and sank back into my chair.
I was done. This was the end of the rope. And then my phone rang.
It was my friend Devoiry, her voice cheery and energetic.
“Chany! How about coming over to my house tonight? I heard a new comedy DVD was released, Miri and Shoshi are also coming.”
“Devoiry,” I replied slowly, through my haze of exhaustion. “You know I have a kabbalah not to watch DVDs.”
“Oh, come on, Chany. Just this once,” she cajoled.
For a split second, I entertained the idea of sitting with my friends, laughing away the day’s stress. But only for a second.
“No,” I whispered to Devoiry, a lump growing in my throat, and abruptly replaced the receiver.
The tears rushed out in a whoosh of release, like gas escaping a helium balloon.
I cried like I had never cried before, deep, wrenching sobs that came from somewhere deep within me, engulfing me completely.
I cried for my son who couldn’t read, couldn’t learn, couldn’t be like his peers.
I cried for the hours he spent with specialists and tutors, pushing himself to try despite his frustration.
I cried for his feeling of inferiority, of guilt, of fear. I cried for Chaim’s pain.
And I cried for my own pain, my frustration, the myriad appointments and tests I had accompanied Chaim to, the endless phone calls I had conducted on his behalf, my attempts to get him to talk about cheder and his reading difficulties, to no avail.
And I cried for the night of fun I had forfeited, on the day I needed it most.
“Hashem,” I screamed wordlessly. “You can do anything. Help my Chaim read. In the zechus of my kabbalah and my tefillos, please help Chaim read. He’s your son, too!”
to get out of bed, Rivki threw a tantrum because she couldn’t find the markers that she wanted to take to school, and the baby spit up just as the toaster pinged.
“Chaim,” I said tightly as he slowly came down the stairs, tracing the pattern on the railing. “Your bus will be here in five minutes. Hurry up.”
“It’s fine,” he replied sullenly. “I don’t care if I miss the bus. So I won’t do my stupid kriah practice again, so what?” He tried to sound indifferent, but his words stabbed my heart.
“Chaim, it’s the effort that counts, not the results,” I reminded him softly as I quickly plopped a sandwich in front of him and poured him a cup of juice.
“And besides, you’ll see, you’re going to learn how to read, B’ezras Hashem.” My voice was determined, edged by a new note of hope. I only hoped I wasn’t giving him false illusions.
The bus honked.
I waved goodbye with my heart in my throat.
An hour later, after I wiped down the table, made the beds, and put the baby for a nap, I finally sat down with a coffee.
I wrapped my hands around the mug, sipping slowly as thoughts of what I had to do whirled in my head.
Aah. I lifted the mug for another sip when the phone rang. I set the coffee on the table too quickly and it splattered, forming a little brown puddle of liquid on my previously gleaming table.
I grabbed a paper towel and checked the caller IDit was the cheder calling. My heart skipped a beat. I dropped the paper towel and quickly jammed the ‘talk’ button.
“Mommy?” Chaim’s voice was hesitant.
Chaim was calling from cheder? He never even wanted to talk about cheder.
“Yes, are you feeling good, tzaddik?” I asked in concern.
“Yeah. Mommy?”
It was quiet for a moment, and I squeezed the phone tightly in clammy hands.
“Mommy, I… I just read a word. Two letters, with nekudos.” His voice was wondering, cautious, eager. Like little buds poking their way through the barren earth.
I don’t know how long I sat there, tears wetting the table, face buried in my arms, body shaking soundlessly.
But at some point, the tears, salty at first, tasted of solace. Within the storm, I felt embraced. Comforted. Heard.
The next morning was a struggle. Chaim didn’t want
Everything faded around me. All I heard were Chaim’s words. “I read. Mommy, I read a word.”
After years of trying, hoping, and praying, my tears had finally tipped the glass.
And suddenly, there were tears in my eyes again. But this time, they were tears of gratitude and unbridled joy.
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Bikur Cholim of Catskills
888-354-2627
Chaverim ������������������������������������������������������������������718-431-8181
Poison Control
Center for Disease Control
AAA Road Services
800-222-1222
Zmanim Hotline 718-331-8463
Sullivan County
845-583-7100 or 911
Ulster County 845-338-3700 or 911
Hudson Valley
845-292-3040
Catskill Regional Medical Center 68 Bushville Rd (Rt 17 -Ex 102)
Harris
Ellenville
Fallsburg
Liberty
Monticello
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845-794-3300
Bikur Ch New Sq 888-354-2627
Comm Liason (for summer):
Yoel Moshe Fried
Chesed Room: 4th Floor, Rm 455
Ellenville Community Hospital (Rt 209) Ellenville
845-647-8181
845-434-2008
845-295-0236
845-794-6330
845-292-6918
845-434-6763
845-434-6893
845-794-7100
845-647-4422
845-434-4422
Liberty 845-292-4422
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845-794-7100
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347-407-0792
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Arden Hill Hospital
4 Harriman Dr Goshen ������������������������������������
845-294-5441
Comm Liason Joel Friedman: ����������������������347-482-5388
Bikur Ch: Rm 163, Follow Blue signs from E R
Horton Medical Center
60 Prospect Ave Middletown 845-343-6161
Comm Liason Joel Friedman 347-482-5388
Kosher Refrigerator in Maternity Unit on 2nd fl Bikur
Ch: Ground fl next to the Fish Wall
Asisa Monticello, NY 845-419-1000
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5208 Main St, S Fallsburg 845-409-2424
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97 Laurel Ave S Fallsburg 845-436-6027
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845-626-2800
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Sullivan County
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160 East Main Street Port Jervis 845-858-7000
Emergency Room: 845-858-7030
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70 Dubois Street Newburgh
845-561-4400
432 NY-52, Woodbourne ������������������������������845-436-6666
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60 Jefferson St� Monticello ������������������������� 845-794-5090
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6 Dairyland Rd Woodridge 845-434-2060
Parcare
Ichud Bungalow Colony Ent 2, Rt 42 718-500-0369
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36 Laurel Ave S Fallsburg 845-482-9394
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Port Authority 212-564-8484
Shortline
800-631-8405
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Windsor NY
845-838-8200
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845-932-8360
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845-583-4649 x115
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845-434-8811
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845-583-7420
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x11
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