(Based on a True Story in Zichronos Harav Maza)

 He was my grandfather’s father. His name was R’ Yeshaye ben R’ Moshe. His father, R’ Moshe, had been the av beis din of Bober, in the province of Mogilev, near Kropki. The son, R’Yeshaye, was a very distinguished man, famous for his wealth, his scholarship, and his yiras Shamayim (fear of heaven).

Yes, this R’ Yeshaye was the famous Jew who hefkered his chometz. Yes, he gave it all away because of the Poritz’s meshugas. Of course, all the Poritzim were crazy. It’s not surprising; remember, each Poritz in the Ukraine was an absolute dictator of all the peasants and Jews (there were no others) who lived on his lands; he literally had the power of life and death over his subjects. But this Poritz was particularly crazy, or eccentric, if you prefer that term. He derived particular pleasure from devising new and original ways of embittering the lives of his Jews.

It is as if a massive tsunami had hit the U.S., its shock waves quickly spreading across the world! The reference here is not to the geographic phenomenon but to its political equivalent: “Trump-in-action” or, for lack of a better term, “Trumpism.” The rapid-fire, multi-sphere initiatives, pronouncements, and moves of the initial weeks of his second term, along with their vast scope, have been as unprecedented as they are unconventional. To say “unconventional” is actually an understatement; President Trump has given new meaning to the term.

It could probably be said without too much exaggeration that few, if any – from the proverbial man-in-the-street to the experts to government officials – understand what, and why, the President is doing what he is doing. Confusion reigns. And it is the aggregate of all the still ongoing stream of far-reaching, even radical, moves – not any individual component – that has everyone snowed under and taken by surprise and that has kept the targets of the President’s activities off-balance.

Most people are self-proclaimed frog experts. After all, we all learned about the stages of the frog’s life cycle in elementary school and are aware of the reactions they get when they’re stuck in swimming pools. And that’s all there really is to know, right?

Frogs are possibly the most famous when they are taken apart. Dissecting frogs is a “highlight” of most middle school science classes. Personally examining how perfectly each individual organ fits with the others is truly incredible. Hashem’s wisdom in design is so clear when you remove and identify each essential, internal body part – magnified tremendously when you consider the complexity of the human body.

After successfully dissecting a frog (or getting your lab partner to do it while you keep your eyes shut), it’s time to expand our understanding by putting some pieces together. Firstly, it helps to recognize that frogs come in a wide variety of types and sizes, ranging from a third of an inch to over a foot long! A group of frogs is called an “army,” and some of them are extremely lethal; there is enough poison found in the skin of just one Golden Poison Dart frog to kill 10 people!

We have good news to report on the vaping front! Across the United States, rates of teenage nicotine vaping have taken a genuine nosedive. Currently, about 20% of high school seniors report any nicotine vaping over the past year. This is far less than what we observed pre-pandemic, when about 35% of high school seniors reported vaping. The results from 10^th and 8^th graders bring similar good news that vaping nicotine is on the decline.

These results align well with a recent personal experience speaking to a group of high school students. Most of these kids already recognized that vaping was essentially no healthier than smoking traditional cigarettes. In fact, use of alcohol, cannabis, and other drugs have also trended downward in high school students, making this generation about as mischievous as the teenagers on Happy Days. As the legendary British band, “The Who,” sang many years ago, “The kids are alright!”

Of course, we are not ready to quit our day jobs here at Johns Hopkins (though we might get fired by President Trump). We do not know how these national statistics translate to our unique community. Many teenagers and adults continue to struggle with vaping and other substance use. And as parents, the job of providing correct substance use education is never completely over because curiosity, sensation seeking, and peer pressure are all part of normal adolescence.  

As Pesach approaches, I often think about my Great Aunt Cele and the Seders she held for my family in the 1950s on Cylburn Avenue. Aunt Cele was never married, but she was the matriarch of our family. She treated her nieces and nephews like they were her own children. And her great nieces and nephews were a special joy for her.

With great passion, Aunt Cele held on to the tradition of her parents, who came from Kovna Geberna in Russia. I don’t know what Seders were like for her growing up, but for me they were the highlight of every year. At the Seder, adorned in my favorite dress and shiny, black Mary Jane shoes, I sat on one side of Aunt Cele, while my brother Julian, in his brown suit-like attire, sat on her other side. Across from us were my mother and father, and at the head of the table sat my Uncle Nate, Aunt Cele’s brother, who led the Seder in his lyrical Hebrew.

Each of us had our own kiddush cup. My brother’s and mine were tiny glass ones. Each cup sat on a white plate with a painted flower design in the middle. I believe those plates had belonged to Aunt Cele’s parents, my great-grandparents. Also, we each had our own Haggadah. For Julian and me, they were small booklets with colorful pictures to make the story come alive.

A friend called a month or so ago to share an idea with me. I’d like to say she’s a good friend, even though we rarely speak to one another. Our conversations flow naturally and easily as if we’ve known each other for many years when, in fact, it’s been far shorter than that. The topics vary, and who knows what they are about. But one thing I can say for certain is there is a common theme threading through each one of them.

My friend and I are roughly the same age and from the same generation. I can’t speak for her, but like most of my friends, I had a stay-at-home mother and a father who worked hard building a business. We children grew up, got married and raised a family. The women I know worked hard, too. Many of my friends are baalei teshuva, and as we parented our children and worked in our chosen fields, we began a journey the likes we had never traveled before.

Then our children were married off, one by one, and as we faced retirement – or when we suddenly realized the nest was officially empty – we weren’t quite sure where we were going. Still, many of us were fired up and excited, all the while curious as to where we were headed.

This is what happens when you plant a seed....

One Friday night, my husband went to his regular minyan. His friend, an occupational therapist who had recently returned from volunteering at ADI Negev, told my husband that the facility could really benefit from occupational and physical therapy volunteers. The seed was planted, and I was excited at the opportunity to volunteer my occupational therapy skills. ? 

ADI Negev is an all-encompassing rehabilitation village in Ofakim in southern Israel. The rehab village includes an emergency room; inpatient hospital; therapy units for neurology, orthopedics and geriatrics; hydrotherapy; and outpatient therapy. There are subsidized apartments for staff and their families. I stayed in an apartment for female volunteers. ?? 

Recently, my two brothers and I were reminiscing about our childhood years. My brothers started to sing some old songs; I noticed that almost all of them were Seder songs. My mind drifted back over the years to our family Sedarim. To my father, the Seder night was of supreme importance. In one of his recorded shiurim, he said:

As we sit around the magnificent table, we relive the birth of our nation together with our children. In the process, we impart to our children their spiritual genetic makeup. Everything that they will accomplish in life, the success of their individual missions in life, the people that they will grow into – everything! Everything depends upon the way that we transmit our mesorah to them.

But what is that “way”? How does the Seder transmit the mesorah? What do such lofty ideas as the “birth of our nation,” our “genetic makeup,” and our “mission in life” have to do with whether we use potatoes or celery for karpas? Whether we tip the cos or drip the wine with our finger?

Pesach is a holiday with many halachos but it is also, perhaps more than any other Yom Tov, replete with minhagim. They are the conduit through which the mesorah is passed down, the audiovisual/kinesthetic/culinary spectacle that makes the Seder memorable. Here are some memories of our family’s minhagim as well as those of the people I spoke to.

Have you and your children ever started a Chol Hamoed morning with the question, “Where should we go?” and ended up still debating the issue at three o’clock in the afternoon? Where to go is the universal question for families with children. I do not have young children anymore, so it is not my dilemma, but it was interesting to gather ideas for young families or grandchildren interested in trips.

I have not been to most of these places, so I can’t vouch for them, but seeing the ideas may ring a bell and remind you of places you enjoyed in the past. I’ll start by mentioning some businesses that advertise with us specifically to attract the Chol Hamoed trip goers.

?A number of readers have contacted me to ask why I didn’t write an article for the previous (February) edition. Firstly, I apologize that I couldn’t make the last deadline. Secondly, I was gratified to learn that some people actually read my articles.

I have had the privilege of writing for the WWW for almost five years. Sometimes readers agree with my take on things and sometimes not. I am grateful that WWW has allowed me the freedom to express myself as I see fit. Occasionally, my articles have been controversial, but still, the magazine’s editors allowed me to be me.

Over 25 years ago, my dear friend and mentor, Rabbi Dr. Abraham J. Twerski, of blessed memory, told me that I should write a book. He said, “You should write along the lines of Rabbi Emanuel Feldman’s Tales Out of Shul or Rabbi Paysach Krohn’s Maggid stories. Rabbi Twerski said, “I’ll be happy to give your book my haskama (approbation).” I always wanted to write the type of book Rabbi Twerski described, but so many things that seemed critical or more important filled my days.

transcribed by Howard Wasserman

Summary: As the violence against Jews in Germany worsened, Mr. Wasserman, one of the founders of the Wasserman and Lemberger butcher shop, was sent to Baltimore by his family at age 13. Taken in by a kind family acquaintance, he started junior high in Lower Park Heights. After graduating high school, he found jobs and lived on his own. He tried to get affidavits for his parents and siblings to come to America but was unsuccessful.

I was inducted into the army at the beginning of 1943. I was a non-citizen, but non-citizens were inducted at that time. I was sent to Fort Meade, Maryland, where I was put on KP (kitchen patrol) the next morning. I was washing dishes and pans that had been used for treife spareribs. I couldn’t eat for a week after that. Next, I was transferred to Camp Wheeler, Georgia, and put in an infantry replacement battalion. I was given basic infantry training there in preparation for being sent overseas. However, they found out that I had very bad eyesight in one eye, so I was left behind when the other guys were shipped overseas.

I was given various duties at Camp Wheeler until I was finally assigned to a headquarters company, where I did clerical work. After that, I was transferred to Camp Landing, Georgia, a replacement training center. Here, too, I was assigned to a headquarters company. I stayed around other Jewish personnel who were stationed there. I ate non-kosher food but never any pork or seafood, and I kept Shabbos when I could.

All in all, I didn’t fare too badly in the service. I got good medical attention, and outside of problems that everybody had, such as strict discipline and being restricted, I had no problems whatsoever with anybody. I became a citizen while I was in the army, in Macon, Georgia, after being investigated by the FBI because of my German background.

Also, while in Camp Landing, I took correspondence courses at the University of Wisconsin, which were offered to the armed forces. I made some very good marks in history, geography, bookkeeping, etc. I furthered my education quite a bit.

After three-and-a-half years in the Army, I was honorably discharged and came back to Baltimore in 1946.

Friday – it’s a day of standing in the kitchen, giving baths, setting the table, lighting the candles…and wearing costumes?

Purim this year falls out on none other than an already busy Friday. So when exactly are we cooking for Shabbos? Not sure, but what we can be sure about is that we’ll have not only two delicious meals on Shabbos, but one on Friday as well. Putting aside the food (which will be prepared at some unknown point in time), let’s talk about some of the other mitzvos of the day and how they may (or may not) look different this year.

Let’s start with mishloach manos. Between preparation and execution, it is probably the most time consuming of Purim’s mitzvos, especially when it involves themes. Themes: it’s a word some families love and others dread.

Since Chanukah, or even before, many families discuss endlessly what they are going to be – and then search Amazon or other stores to get materials to make the perfect costumes… only to discover that a younger sister insists on being a ballerina and ballerina only, so you must cajole her into wearing the absolutely “horrid” painter’s apron and hat by promising her all the Dum-

Dums you receive in your mishloach manos.

With Purim quickly approaching, it feels like a good opportunity to once again consider the dangers of teenage drinking. My personal preference – and the preference of just about every professional in the entire world – is that teenagers should refrain from drinking alcohol on Purim or any other day because no good comes from it. Alas, teenagers are curious and skilled at finding pathways to drinking, usually through alcohol stored at home. And some parents and community leaders seem to give drinking a pass on Purim, unfortunately.  

The good news is that most teenagers will choose not to drink on Purim, though some will. With that in mind, I put together 10 strategies parents might consider well before we start to read the Megillah to mitigate the dangers of teenage drinking. 

All of us impact the world around us on some level. Whether we are educators, parents, employers, employees, or friends, we all interact with others and want to have a degree of influence on the people around us. When we see someone act in a way that needs improvement, we instinctively want to share our beliefs about the proper mode of behavior, and we hope that they will listen to our advice. Many of us may be surprised that, on a regular basis, our advice is often not followed. This is becoming increasingly more prevalent even among authority figures such as parents and teachers. Of course, authority figures often have the power to use coercion, but today that causes much resentment and is only used as a last resort. What then is the most effective way to have a positive impact on others?

The main focus of this article is to answer this question from my personal perspective as a rebbe dealing with beis medrash age talmidim. However, it is equally applicable to parents and, to a certain extent, to all of us who have social interactions. (The essential insights are true for younger children as well, although they have to be applied differently than the approach discussed in this article.)

To my dearest granddaughter,

You called last night to ask me about “Great Zaidy’s Box,” and I promised to call back because I was listening to a shiur. (I did try by the way.) Well, you got my literary juices flowing, so now you are getting a story to pass on to future generations.

Many, many years ago, Yaakov Boehm and Rochel Goldstein were growing up in Eastern Europe, on the Czech/Hungarian border. They both lived in small villages, not far from each other. Their families were quite poor, and they lived very simply. Great Bubby’s favorite doll was made of yarn, and Great Zaidy's favorite ball was made out of string. But, believe it or not, they were happy and content!

Without computers, telephones, radios, or even newspapers, they knew very little about the war that was brewing in Europe in the late 1930s and the early 1940s. They were young adults, out of their teenage years, actually the same age as your older siblings, when their world turned upside down.

“How can I forgive him after all he did to me?” 

“I just don’t see how I can ever move on from the pain.”

 “When is this person ever going to leave my life?”

There are people who walk around in their day-to-day lives carrying resentment towards people who have wronged them in the past. They desire to detach themselves from the pain, but it is difficult. They look to Hashem and ask, “Why did you give me this person in my life?” Although we say, “time heals wounds,” some people ask, “How much time do I need until I finally can forgive this person?”

*  *  *

Forgiving is not easy; in fact, it can take a tremendous amount of strength – and certainly time – to forgive someone who has injured our emotional core. But forgiving is a learned art that can relieve us of a tremendous amount of emotional anguish. Most people do not enjoy carrying with them pain from the past. They prefer letting go and moving on with life. The question is, how?

Over the last 40 years, the Baltimore community has helped many widows and orphans after they have unfortunately lost a loved one and there was no plan to replace the lost parnassa that the deceased had been providing for the family. I have been involved, too often, in helping raise these needed funds. Many millions have been raised, and tzedakas like Avigdor’s Helping Hand, a New York-based tzedaka organization, and our local Ahavas Yisrael Charity Fund have provided tzedaka to these mishpachos. Rabbi Boruch Brull, the executive director of Ahavas Yisrael, has been at the forefront of many of these efforts.

I am a big believer in buying insurance that will protect you and your family. I am not a professional financial advisor or an insurance broker. I am a conservative businessman, and many people come to me for financial counsel, which I am happy to give, using my extensive life experience as a guide.

It happens to the best of us: You’re ready for dinner, the aroma of fresh pizza and fries fills the house. Before settling down at the table, you take a quick detour to the fridge to get the ketchup – and you can’t find it. You were pretty sure the ketchup was there the day before. You check everywhere, but you just don’t see it. You conclude that someone must have finished it, shrug, and get a new bottle from the pantry. (You should always have backup ketchup for emergencies.) And then, a certain unrecorded number of slices and some fries later, you go to put the ketchup in the fridge only to find the one that you had been looking for earlier sitting there, as smug as a plastic squeeze bottle can be.

Things have an uncanny way of avoiding our detection (or we have an uncanny way of not noticing what’s in front of us). Either way, the ability to conceal is a crucial survival skill to many animals (and, apparently, ketchup).

In Israel, Thursday, the 22^nd day of Shevat, 5785, will surely be a day enshrined forever in the long, storied history of the Jewish people. It may or may not register much in America, except for some blog post or possibly a newspaper article of the event. There will be sighs and emotions for a moment, which may even last a few moments, possibly even an hour. Then it’s off to Target or the JCC.

It won’t be anything like that here in Jerusalem and the whole of Israel, today. I don’t say this to cast aspersions on our brethren who don’t live in Israel. G-d forbid. I know there are millions of Jews around the world who will be heartbroken by the news and pictures. What I am trying to say is that it won’t be life as usual in Israel. Not today.

Earlier this morning, the remains of the Bibas family (or so we thought – more on that later) and Oded Lifshitz were returned from Gaza in coffins. Most of the world will yawn. But for us living in Hashem’s land, it is a day of grieving, a day full of sadness and restrained, silent rage. While other days have been weighed down by similar sorrows over the last 500-plus days, there have been none quite like this one. The entire country is in a state of shock even though most feared this day would come. Now that it has arrived, it is far worse and heavier than anyone could have imagined. A malaise has taken over the city and the country; everyone is wondering how we got here and, more importantly, how we keep from, G-d forbid, getting back here. 

Although it’s still more or less the middle of the winter, with even more cold weather and snow forecast for later this week, gardeners have their eye on the prize and are looking forward to the upcoming growing season with keen anticipation! How does one anticipate the warm months when, bs”d, seeds will miraculously sprout, vines will grow high and wide, and the long-awaited fruits of one’s labor are ready for harvesting?

Besides just thinking about what the great outdoors will have in store, there are actually concrete steps that can be taken, even at this early stage. Now is the time to peruse seed catalogues and decide what vegetables you would like to grow. In addition to having a much greater variety of seed (and plant) offerings, seed catalogues – available through the mail or online – also give you much more information about their seeds: i.e., disease resistance, time to harvest, anticipated size, etc. Like any other important endeavor where you would like the best chance of success, careful planning is the key.