If you are like me, you have drawers, cabinets, and closets full of “stuff” that you no longer use but can’t bring yourself to throw out. My top excuses, in no special order, are: 1) It might come in handy one day; 2) It is still in good condition; 3) It might come back into style; and 4) It brings back memories.

What’s the answer for holding on to this stuff without looking like a packrat? With a little ingenuity, you can “repurpose” these items, making treasures out of what some people think of as trash! When our great-grandmothers unraveled sweaters for the yarn, crafted fabric scraps into a quilt, or sewed a child’s jacket out of an ancient coat, it was called frugality. Most of us would consider these activities distasteful – certainly nothing to brag about. Yet today, such frugality has returned – with a twist. It is now called “repurposing,” and it is “cool.”

Azriela Jaffe, a writer for Mishpacha magazine, was so moved by an article she read in the Yated about the power of chatzos – being ready for Shabbos by Friday midday – that she has not missed chatzos since. Reorganizing her life and her week has been so life-changing and brought so much kavod Shabbos into her home that she wrote an article about it for Mishpacha. And, judging by the droves of letters the magazine received, the idea obviously hit a chord among readers around the world. They too craved greater serenity on erev Shabbos or were looking for

As I set out to gather the recollections of those close to Harav Amrom Taub, zt”l, Rav of Khal Arugas Habosem of Baltimore, I learned fascinating details about his life that few people know. For example, his son, the present Brider Rebbe, Rav Shaye Taub, shlit”a, and his Rebbetzin told me that Rav Amrom almost didn’t come to Baltimore at all. Upon his arrival in America after World War II, the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS) planned for him to be a rav in St. Louis. It was the Rav’s loyalty and dedication to the Satmar Rebbe, Moreinu Reb Yoel

A boy is not suited to any of the yeshiva high schools in Baltimore, and is sitting at home, bored and miserable. The desperate parents have heard about Mordechai Bamberger. “Can you help,” they ask.

A single yeshiva graduate is working and has lost touch with the learning community. After a discreet call from the young man’s friend, Mordechai Bamberger invites him to join a shiur with his peers at the Community Kollel.

A young man is having trouble with shidduchim. Mordechai Bamberger networks on his behalf, and he is soon a chassan.

A Chesed Activist

Mordechai Bamberger credits his parents, Osher and Rochel

The women of our community might seem to have a monopoly on doing chesed, perhaps, thanks to the formal chesed activities that were inculcated in them back in their school days. However, there are men out there, too, who do chesed, notwithstanding their often demanding daily davening, working, and learning schedules. This is part one of a series of articles that will spotlight just some of the men in the Baltimore community who take the time to do chesed, because they feel it is important to give back to a community that has given them so much.

Simcha Kossman’s typical day

This past Elul, when I was planning my annual pilgrimage to New Haven to visit my parents’ and grandparents’ kevarim (graves), I decided to do things a little differently. My first cousins, Morty and Elayne, who heard that I was making the trip, extended to me a very warm and open whenever-you-want-for-however-long invitation to stay at their Connecticut beach house, which was only about a half-hour drive from the cemetery. At first, I politely refused the offer, thanking Elayne profusely for her graciousness. Within 24 hours, after giving it much thought, I called her back.

“Wouldn’t it be great if, when