On December 11, 2019,  yud gimmel Kislev, in the early afternoon, my Bubby, Tzerel Mindel (Celia) Neuman, a”h, was niftera. That is one sentence. But it took me a long time to be able to write it. My grandmother was the strongest, most incredible woman you could have ever met. She was sweet, funny, and kind. She was a huge part of my life, for all of my life. The memories are endless. And the world needs to know what it lost – because she was not just a light that flickered and went out. She was a grand finale firework that kept the night alight.

How can I express it? How can I make you understand why my heart now feels like shattered glass after her death? I don’t know how, but I’m going to try.

In the days before Purim, we are accustomed to hearing about avoiding dangerous drinking. But Purim is also a time when we are surrounded by plentiful and especially tasty food – from mishloach manos goodies to gourmet seudos – and keeping to their diets is a battle for many people. But does it have to be that way? That’s the question I face as a nutritionist.

It is no secret that today’s society has become obsessed with fad diets and losing weight. Being skinny has become synonymous with being healthy, which is certainly not always the case! Sadly, these ideals are affecting kids at younger and younger ages every year. In fact, research shows that “half of American children between first and third grade want to be thinner, and half of nine- and ten-year-old girls are already dieting.” (U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, 2011) Just think about that for a minute. Is this really the message we want to be sending to our children? Is this what we want them to be focused on as something of value and importance? Even if we don’t verbalize these messages directly, our children are very clever, and you can bet that they pick up on our behavior and how we speak about our own bodies and ourselves as people.

Just four days after Simchas Torah, one of the most joyous days on the Hebrew calendar, the Baltimore Jewish community lost a gem: Rabbi Dr. Tuvia Meister, z”l. Rabbi Meister, as he preferred to be called, who attained semicha in midlife while still a practicing radiologist, was a man with a plan – actually, two plans. The first was a 20-year plan to learn all of Torah so he could enter the next world as a learned man. His second goal – beginning from when he was diagnosed with cancer, 10 years ago – was to leave this world a good man in the eyes of his wife and children. He accomplished both, in addition to making a tremendous impact in Baltimore and beyond with his caring heart and kind deeds.

Rabbi Dr. Meister’s far-reaching kindness extended to Kiryat Sefer, in Eretz Yisrael, where his bechor (firstborn son) Elchonon lives with his family. During Chanukah, during my visit my bechor and his family, who also live in Kiryat Sefer, Elchonon shared the story of a significant donation his father made to the community.

Parkinson’s is a devastating disease in which the amount of dopamine in a person’s body is reduced, thereby causing messages from the brain to be incorrectly interpreted by the body. The average age of onset is in the mid-seventies. Both men and women are affected, but more men than women have this disease, with men of Ashkenazi descent being the most likely group to have it. Some forms of Parkinson’s are inherited or have a genetic component; others seem to be random.

Initial symptoms may include any of the following symptoms: tremors, shuffling gait, “freezing,” loss of balance, muscle spasms, swallowing disorder, drooling, chronic constipation, memory deficit, speech deficit, and cognitive disorders.

Some 2,700 years ago, we went to sleep one night in a world defined by a land, its Temple, and its three levels of society: Kohanim, Leviim, and Yisraelim. We woke up the next day in grief. Our Jewish identity had been flung into the air and fallen to the ground, shattered. A Jew who had always defined himself as a Kohen or Levi had no land, no Temple, no tasks to perform. Yisraelim had no tithes to give and no opportunity for taharah, purification. As we marched into Babylon, it seemed that our entire way of life was lost.

At the same time, however, seeds had been planted to rectify this tragedy. Years before, our scholars were the first Jews to be exiled, and the institutions of learning they established had blossomed miraculously. When the rest of our nation arrived in Babylon, an infrastructure for Jewish survival was already in place. We call this era the Babylonian Exile, a brief period of 70 years that included the reign of Persia and Media. As the massive Babylonian Empire fell, Persia became a world power, controlling 127 kingdoms. And when the Persian Empire fell, in turn, those Jews who, sadly, had not returned to Israel to build the Second Temple lived in the tiny piece of the fallen Persian Empire that remained: what we today call Iran. Today’s Iranian Jews are thus Babylonian Jews whose exile began 2,700 years ago. In fact, R’ Daniel Golfeiz explains, it is inaccurate to term Persian Jews Sephardim because their exile never included a stay in Spain (Sepharad). The proper term is Edut HaMizrach (the Congregation of the East).

February 11, 2020 was a very special day for the sixth through eighth graders of the Torah Institute of Baltimore. TI entered 64 middle school competitors (14 teams) who created and programmed unique robots in the first annual CIJE Robotics competition in Maryland. The boys spent over five months of recess time in addition to evening meetings at host parents’ homes to build the robots and program them to implement assigned tasks. The Yeshiva of Greater Washington and Talmudical Academy of Baltimore came to Torah Institute’s preschool gym to compete in the robotics competition.

The students of Torah Institute are given ample opportunities to shine in all areas. Dr. Suzanne Cotter, the English Department Coordinator of TI, has been at the forefront in embracing CIJE (Center for Initiatives in Jewish Education) as a curriculum partner. The CIJE has been an amazing resource, providing the students with updated curricula in English studies as well as implementing STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Math) deep into the curriculum. This gives the boys of the Torah Institute of Baltimore an opportunity to tap into their many academic strengths in high-interest fields, in this case engineering and robotics. TI was therefore honored to volunteer to host the first-ever CIJE Robotics tournament. 

I took two books out of the RYS library on the same day. They happened to be about the same topic – children who escaped from Germany right before the war – although one is fiction and one is non-fiction. I found them both riveting. 

The topic is especially interesting to me, because both my parents came from Germany and managed to escape before World War II. My parents left with their parents and siblings, but they could have easily been the main characters in these books, who were alone.

Recently I read another book from the RYS library. This book deals with a completely different topic, a yeshiva bachur with mental illness, but it has a similar theme.

Once a week, I attend an anti-lashon hara (anti-gossip) session given by Dr. Chaim Haber. It is amazing to learn the rules regarding lashon hara as revealed by the great Chofetz Chaim. It appears that to fulfill all the details of becoming a non-loshon haranik, a person should rarely make comments about other people – not any easy task!

One sunny day an interesting thought came to mind: Why not also have a class about cheerful lashon? There are many sources regarding worshipping Hashem (G-d) with simcha, joy. Hopefully, after reviewing this concept, someone will initiate such a class.

The following maiseh (story) illustrates the preferable world of cheerful lashon (speech). All names are fictitious.

I was looking at a Jewish Observer magazine from the 1980s and noticed an article about an impending crisis: the shortage of rebbeim. It struck me that the issues being raised then are the same ones we keep hearing about now. Quality teachers are the most important part of school, and we always fear that the next generation of children won’t have teachers. The main argument is that we don’t pay enough. As a teacher, I wholeheartedly agree. However, if I start talking financials, this magazine – and the community – will devolve into arguments about transparency, accountability, pensions, and tuition. I’m not going there. Instead, I’d like to explore what teachers, administrators, and parents can do, aside from giving more money, to help make sure we have teachers who can and want to teach.

The shul is a sea of white. A somber hush spreads through the crowd as the aron kodesh is opened. The haunting strains of Kol Nidrei begin….

“Like the beginning of my article?”

“Hey, didn’t you say you’re writing about Purim…?”

“Oy! You’re right. My editor will have a fit. I better start over…”

The following recipes are super-versatile. They could grace your Purim or even your Pesach table. They might even be candidates for an unusual shalach manos offering.

Before presenting my “eggciting” egg recipe, I’d like to weigh in on one of the most persistent kitchen controversies of all time: how to peel a hardboiled egg. You’d be surprised how strongly some people feel about their own tried-and-true methods. I have friends who swear by the running-under-cold-water method. Others make a pinprick or cut the egg shell in half and scoop out the inside with a spoon. (What? You haven’t heard of that? It is only for people who don’t care if the egg salad has crunchy bits of shell in it. I definitely do not recommend this method.)