from the Hamodia 

By Rabbi Avraham Chaim Carmell

One of the many names that describe our generation is perhaps “The Segulah Age.” Never before have so many people desperate for yeshuos tried such a wide variety of segulos with so many successful outcomes.

The segulos range from placing s’chach on a particular Rosh Yeshivah’s sukkah to placing a chicken bone in someone’s pocket at the Seder with a plethora of Tehillim, candle lighting and other kabbalos in between.

But often, the people who have been waiting so long for their good news don’t get excited about the new, foolproof segulah you’ve heard about. They have tried them all, and nothing seems to help.

by Ezra May, Melbourne, Australia

Special to the Where What When

 Until erev Chanukah this year, Australia – despite having a Jewish presence dating back to 1788 – had never experienced a fatal antisemitic terror attack. That grim distinction was shattered when a father and son carried out a shooting attack, draping an ISIS flag on their vehicle before opening fire. The Jewish world was in shock, and in Australia, the attack fell like a bombshell, shattering the illusion of a society free of antisemitism.

Not many people are familiar with the history of Jewish Australia, but, until recently, it was indeed a place where Jews flourished in a climate of peace and tolerance.

Weddings are a major life event that often leave us with stories to share. Some of them are distressing at the time but are often funny in retrospect. Here are a few stories, culled from neighbors and friends.

Better than a Debutante

My own story happened when I was a young woman soon to be married. I told my mother, a”h, who was working, that I could find a bridal gown on my own. So, I rode a bus to downtown Baltimore and walked into a small bridal shop. I was the only customer, but the sales lady didn’t ask if she could help me. Instead, she said, “These gowns are for high society debutantes.”

I didn’t know what to say. With my face flushed, I left the store and crossed the street to Hochschild Kohn or Hutzler department store (I forgot which one). There I found pink bridesmaid dresses for my attendants to order, and I ordered a bridal gown for myself. It looked a little like the high society ones. Several weeks later, getting close to my wedding, I went downtown to pick up the gown, tried it on, and said, “I don’t like it.”

May 29, 4:10 p.m. I am returning to the Gan HaPaamon (Liberty Bell Garden) municipal parking lot after a very depressing meeting with someone. The day before, my 2018 Toyota Landcruiser was serviced at an official dealership in Givat Shaul, and they told me that there might be some lingering problem with the airbag warning light. They also told me that I needed to balance the front tires.

Adjacent to the parking lot was a Sonol gas station, and right behind it was a small auto garage, tire shop, and carwash. I drove the car in and told the manager, who called himself Mohammed Siam, to balance the tires. He opened the lid to the engine (why?!) and started poking and yanking around things, making me a bit nervous. Then he told me that there was a problem with the airbag indicator light. I got the impression from him that the light was just a symptom of a much more serious problem. He invited me to sit in his office, and in a few minutes he would give me an estimate for the cost.

In the small, messy office, there was a desk with a sign that read, “The BOSS,” and behind it a picture of an older man posing at a similar type of joint. I gathered it was probably his father. (I was right.)

Mohammed came back and told me that he had uncovered a serious problem and that it was dangerous to drive the car in its present state. Due to my depressive state of mind, my thinking was murky. I imagined the airbag inflating while I was driving at high speeds and causing me to crash, G-d forbid. He said it would take a few hours to fix but it was too late to wait for the car today. Instead, I should leave the car with him overnight, and he would have it for me the next day.

What is metabolic health, anyway?

Metabolic health refers to your body’s ability to efficiently convert food into energy and extract the nutrients it needs for optimal health. When your metabolism is working properly, you experience more sustained energy, fewer cravings, easier weight maintenance, better mood, and mental clarity.

Unfortunately, 88% (some say 93%!) of U.S. adults are metabolically unhealthy. Metabolic dysfunction is at the root of obesity and most chronic ailments, such as pre-diabetes or diabetes, high blood pressure, high triglycerides (which increase the risk of a stroke), fatty liver disease, mood swings, and even depression. Metabolic syndrome refers to the whole cluster of ailments caused by metabolic dysfunction. 

Sweeping, mopping, dishes, bathrooms, trash – and nonstop laundry. Cleaning is an essential but never-ending chore. As soon as all the tasks are done, the cycle begins again. Couples often begin married life doing the cleaning by themselves – and many continue to do so – but under the pressures of jobs and children, there comes a time when cleaning help seems necessary.

But before hiring help or adding more cleaning help hours, it’s worth asking: Is your help really cleaning, or is she spending most of the time tidying piles, picking up toys, and moving clutter from room to room?

If the answer to the latter is yes, you may be paying for organizing, not actual cleaning. The reason a home looks “always messy” often has less to do with dirt and more to do with too much stuff. Once clutter is out of the way and the home has a bit of structure, cleaning takes less time. And the cost of help can go down as well.

Several months ago, I heard about an all-women volunteer trip to Israel through OU Birthright with a group from Baltimore. I immediately joined; I didn’t think about how my husband would handle eight days alone with the kids, putting it in the “future” category of problems. And before before I knew it, five months later, I was in line to board an El Al flight, surrounded by the women in my group. It was very hard for many of us to leave our families, but we comforted, consoled, and supported each other. This was my first experience with how wonderful this group of ladies was.

Day One

Our group of 29 women came mostly from Baltimore, but we also had members from New York, Memphis, New Jersey, Silver Spring, and even Australia! After arriving at 6:00 a.m., we headed to our hotel in Jerusalem. We had the day free until check-in at 3 p.m., so, I did what any normal person just arriving to Israel on a Thursday does: I headed to the shuk! Our hotel was in a great location, right next to the bus station and the light rail, so it made for easy travel and walking to popular destinations.

At our opening meeting, we got to know our wonderful madricha, Shoshana, and each other. We shared where we were from, some of our current life story, and the reason we wanted to go on the trip. Many women expressed how, after October 7^th, they felt powerless from afar and wanted to find a way to give to Israel. And give is what we did.

I took my first Birthright trip in the winter of 2007, and I was last in Israel three summers ago visiting family. But this December, I was given the opportunity to return to Israel with Birthright on an alumni trip. As soon as they contacted me, I immediately said yes. The trip was supposed to happen in the summer 2025. However, the war with Iran caused a delay, and it was separated into smaller trips this winter. I just returned on Monday, December 15.

Birthright has now opened its doors to older people as well as to those who have taken previous trips. There has been renewed interest among the Jewish people, Post-October 7^th, in discovering (or rediscovering) our land. People want to support the tourism industry. They want to volunteer on the land. And with much of the world against us, they want to see for themselves what we are fighting for, even as our enemies creep into our birth countries and make us feel unwelcome. As one Birthright participant stated, “I am glad I went on this volunteer trip because it allowed me to view Israel from a different perspective and grow as a person.”

by Drs. Shmuel and Binyomin Liebman

 A gemara in Rosh Hashanah (11a) likens the Avos – the Patriarchs – to mountains. Rabbi Aaron Gibber commented that when one stands atop a peak with its sweeping view, it is difficult to appreciate the mountain itself. Its height, majesty, and scale can only be recognized when one steps back and sees it from below.

So it is with our father, Dr. Mayer Liebman, z”l. Even five years after his passing, words are inadequate to capture the scope of his goodness, his devotion to others, and his mountain-like presence that shaped the lives of those he touched.

We had a variety of lovely guests on a Shabbos afternoon, and as I was preparing the next course, the ladies congregated in the kitchen, and we started talking about cooking. We reminisced about feeding our families “once upon a time.” One of the women admitted that she no longer enjoys cooking. My eyes grew wide as she went on to confide that she felt downright fear. I couldn’t believe my ears because all along I thought I was the only one.

My memory of those bygone days is rather sketchy, but I know for a fact that I kept my family well-fed. Like my contemporaries of that time, we cooked and cooked and cooked some more. In those out-of-town years, our friends were our family, and so we had guests aplenty to cook for, along with the home crew. I can’t say I was ever a chef; cooking was something I just did. And as my grandmother, a”h, used to say, “And how!”