As Purim quickly approaches, I find myself struggling with many conflicting emotions. Normally I would be concentrating on a Purim shpiel or at least a satirical commentary focusing on current events, but the ongoing war in Israel, coupled with threats to Jews everywhere and the pain and trauma of so many Israeli families weighs heavily on me. At the same time, I’m trying to emotionally reconcile advertisements for all kinds of expensive and over-the-top Purim delicacies and treats as well as exotic Pesach programs, offering every type of food, fun, and entertainment.

I was recently at a Shabbos table where the age-old question of “what kind of work do you do?” came up. I can usually understand the answers to these questions, especially when they have to do with professions with which I have some familiarity. Unfortunately, the majority of the people at this Shabbos table worked in computers. Not having any idea of what they were talking about, I asked a few questions. Unfortunately, even after I asked for clarification, I still had no idea what was going on. Not one to shirk my responsibility to broaden my horizons, I decided I would hop on the computer after Shabbos and google the daylights out of the terms they used. Unfortunately, the only one I could remember was “coding.” I figured that was a good start.

Rav BenZion Chayim Shloime Twerski, zt”l, was the oldest of five very esteemed brothers: the late well-known prolific Torah author and psychiatrist Rabbi Dr. Avraham Twerski; Rabbi Motel Twerski of Flatbush and, yibadlu lechayim, the Milwaukee Hornosteipel Rebbe Rav Michel Twerski, shlit”a; and law professor Rabbi Aharon Twerski, shlit”a.

I first met Rav Shloime in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, when I spent the summer there on a SEED program. He was there for a Shabbos in honor of the yahrzeit of his father, a rebbe who had served for many, many decades as rav of a shul in Milwaukee.? My kesher with Rav Shloime deepened a few years later, when I was in kollel in Baltimore and his son-in-law, Rabbi Yitzchok (Itchie) Lowenbraun, and his wife Miriam (zichronam livracha) regularly ran kiruv Shabbatons. Rabbi Lowenbraun asked if my wife and I would like to join them on a Shabbaton. We did, and after that we began seeing Rav Shloime regularly, as he came in several times a year for these Shabbatons.

A few weeks ago, the podcast “Living L’Chaim” interviewed a rabbi from Lakewood who was lamenting materialism. He said that he once gave some teenagers a ride to the airport for winter break and overheard one tell the other, “Going to Florida is really dumb but you can’t stay in Lakewood for winter vacation.”

It is well known that winter break has turned into head-to-Florida season. Now I am sure that going to Florida can make sense and be a good choice in some instances. But whenever I sense that something is becoming a fad, I become a little skeptical. One thing is for sure: Whether summer, spring, fall, or winter, if you are heading to the theme parks, you will be paying a lot for a man-made attraction.

I am by no means or stretch of the imagination a professional organizer. Occasionally, I pretend to be one as organizing, thank G-d, is something that has always come easily to me. Ask my childhood friends about the way I used to enter their hurricane-wreckage bedrooms and leave them spick-and-span – as if Mary Poppins herself had paid a visit. As someone who is tidy by nature, I am here to offer some suggestions, recommendations, and advice related to the oh-so-daunting holiday prep that is Pesach.

I first met Shaul on Chol Hamoed Pesach. I came from New York with a busload of students on our way to Washington for a Pirchei trip, with a stopover at Ner Yisroel in Baltimore. While waiting for our room assignments, I decided to visit the beis medrash. It was approximately 1:00 a.m. The lights were off with the exception of one small light. There, sitting at a table, was one person totally engrossed in his learning. He did not even look up to see who had entered the beis medrash at that hour. I was very impressed, to say the least.

Years later, when I came to Ner Yisroel, I found out that the person who was so engrossed in his learning was Shaul Epstein.

I have been thinking about simchas lately. This is a subject that affects almost every family. And while a simcha is truly a joyous occasion, a highlight in our ordinarily mundane lives, it comes with a myriad decisions and the delicate managing of relationships. I gleaned many of the ideas in this article from a collection of essays called Rays of Hope by Rabbi Chaim Zev Ginsburg.  

Are You Coming?

Whom to invite to the simcha and who should attend are

Rabbi Avrohom Leventhal, a former Baltimorean and rebbe at Talmudical Academy, is now head of a major Israeli chesed organization, Lemaan Achai. He was in Baltimore recently, and we took the opportunity to speak with him.

Born in Annapolis, Rabbi Leventhal spent a number of his early years in Salisbury on the Eastern Shore, where his shomer Shabbos family used to host college students for Shabbos. Right after his bar mitzvah, he came to Talmudical Academy in Baltimore and, for the last two years of high school, learned in the Scranton yeshiva. Upon high school graduation, Rabbi Leventhal returned to Baltimore and spent the next six years at Ner Israel: three years in yeshiva and three years in kollel. His wife, Eshkie (neé Swerdloff), of New York, ran a popular daycare group for young children.

by Sarah Toib

What’s your mother tongue? For Americans living in Eretz Yisrael, it’s sometimes hard to say. I’ve lived in Eretz Yisrael for almost 20 years, and I often come across women who grew up here but speak fluent English. So much so that I am sometimes surprised when I find out that they did not come from an English-speaking country. Their command of English is complete; they even have just the right accent, the right nuances, and often even the mentality of their parents’ home country. I wonder, how do they do it? How did their parents raise them to be so perfectly bilingual? 

What a gift! How I wish that all of my children had the gift of two languages. When I mentioned this to my oldest daughter, the one of my children who speaks a fairly fluent English, she emphatically disagreed. She said that growing up in a home of foreigners (referred to here as “chutznikim” because they come from chutz la’aretz) “feels like I’m a really skinny person trying to sit on two chairs; in the end I fall between them.” The cultural part of that statement needs an article of its own, but the bilingual aspect interested me. And so I decided to ask around, speak with others in the situation, and find out for myself: Do chutznikim growing up in Eretz Yisrael in a strong English-language environment have the best of both worlds? Or are they straddling the fence and have neither? What are the pros and cons of being raised in a bilingual setting?

I am? fortunate to have met some truly righteous people over the course of my lifetime. Some are observant Jews, others are not, and some aren’t Jewish. Many are hidden tzadikim. These are individuals who are good and do good. The Talmud relates (Avoda Zara 24a) the story of Dama Ben Nesina, a non-Jew from Ashkelon who respected and honored his father and was meticulously honest. The purpose of Rebbe Eliezer relating Dama’s story in the Talmud was to teach a profound lesson about righteousness and respect.