We made aliyah 16 months ago. For the first 14 months, everyone asked: How are you adjusting, and how is your Hebrew? Can you read the newspapers and understand the TV news? And when are coming back for a visit?

The answers to those questions were always quite simple: We are doing fine and not encountering anything that we cannot handle (sometimes with some help from children, grandchildren, or strangers). My Hebrew is better than it has been in 40-plus years, but I am far from fluent. I can manage, though, in almost every normal circumstance as almost all Israelis “have some English” – or so they think. I can struggle with newspaper articles, as long as I have Google Translate and a dictionary for Shabbat. I catch enough of the broadcast news to know what they speaking about – but not to the extent that I would go out and make an investment based on my understanding of what was said. That one is a real struggle, but everyone insists it is the best way to continue to improve your Hebrew. As for the final question, around Sukkot, we were talking about a visit – but that ties into the other questions.

by Rochelle Naiman with Julie Rabinowitz

A mature woman finds herself an empty nester with extra time to fill. This dynamic woman wants to give, to laugh over a game of peek-a-boo with a delicious, dimpled 18-month-old or share time with a tween. She has so much support, energy, and love to give – but her own kids visit for Yom Tov and a bit more here and there, leaving her out-of -the-loop of active bubbying.

A busy mommy of several finds herself exhausted from staying at home with her kids. The young mom used to feel so in control and accomplished, way back when she had one adorable baby. Her college diploma tucked in a drawer somewhere, she lives in a whirl of laundry, dishes, giggles, and cries. Sometimes, she finishes the day only to realize she has not eaten a solid meal. Are there other moms like me, she wonders? 

Recently, I had the pleasure of meeting a very special young man. Gabriel Yair Shabtai, 29, was married in Israel about six months ago. On December 7^th, he returned from two months of active reserve service in the IDF. Think about that; he had been married for only four months when he got a late night phone call on Simchat Torah informing him that he had been called up. In Hebrew this is called millu’im, the reserves. Israel needed him to get on a plane and come as soon as he could. I asked him if he hesitated. “I didn’t hesitate for a second. I have a responsibility to the Jewish nation. I am not just a son, a brother, and a husband; I am also a soldier, and Am Yisrael is my family.

“My wife, Sarah, was shocked and afraid but also very proud. She was having an Israeli experience in Baltimore. She deserves a medal for being so supportive.”

I remember the day we met – in September 1980 – as if it were yesterday. My childhood friend, Robin Gottdiener, and I had both given birth at Sinai Hospital over the three-day Yom Tov of Rosh Hashanah. Since we were staying in separate rooms, we decided to get together in hers so we could take turns watching our newborns while we davened.

We happened to be shmoozing when we heard an energetic knock on the closed door. After Robin said, “Come in,” a jubilant voice announced, “It’s Bubby Broder time!!!” and a bubbly, blonde-sheitel-clad, much-too-young-looking bubby bounced in. As she turned around to close the door behind her, I had just enough time to whisper to Robin out of the side of my mouth, “Who is she??”

 I later found out that this selfless neighbor of ours walked approximately three-and-a-half miles roundtrip each Shabbos and Yom Tov – if need be, with the aid of one of her many decorative canes! – in rain, sleet, snow, and even blizzard, to visit any hospitalized Yid.

Q: I am a single 26-year-old female who has been dating for seven years now, and I have a secret that I don’t feel I can share with anyone. It hurts me to write this, but it’s unfortunately the truth: I am angry with Hashem. Why would Hashem, Who can do anything, put me through this? I davened so hard for so long, I did so many segulos. I poured out my heart to him. Why would Hashem knowingly put me through this torture of seven long years of hopelessly looking for my future husband?! I wish I didn’t have this feeling. I look back longingly to my younger years when I was full of hope and had such a strong positive connection to Hashem. How can I get rid of these feelings that are getting in the way of my connecting to Hashem?

Rochel

Never heard of a side hustle? Well, it just means making money on the side while working a 9-to-5 job or learning full time. Whether it’s babysitting, freelance writing, driving for Uber, selling on eBay, or dog walking, people have found many creative ways to bring in extra income. Maybe some of these will inspire you to start a side hustle of your own.

I Scream, You Scream

Chaim Kohn,* who lives in Lakewood and learns full time, runs a very unusual side hustle. Chaim always had an entrepreneurial knack and tried various ways of making money while learning full time. At one point, he had a website that brought in some income, but traffic to the website eventually died. Then he tried to sell on Amazon. But what really took off was his ice cream truck. The idea came to him one day as he was driving and heard a non-kosher ice cream truck ring nearby. He thought, “What if we had a kosher ice cream truck!?” This thought became reality a year later after he was able to get a vendor’s license and find a truck and a driver.

Chaim’s advice to others with entrepreneurial ambitions is “It’s hard to start a business, but people shouldn’t get discouraged. Discuss it with other people and try to figure out how to test out the market without spending a ton of money.”

Back in 2002, I took a group downtown for a Shabbaton at the B’nai Israel Congregation, where my nephew Rabbi Shraga Goldenhersh was then rabbi. This year, we again came to the Harbor to spend Shabbos with the congregants of this historic Jewish jewel, tucked within sight of Baltimore’s shot tower, the soaring financial building of Alex Brown, the towering Marriot Hotel, and close to Port Discovery and quaint Little Italy and Fells Point. 

B’nai Israel, built in 1876, is the oldest Orthodox synagogue in continuous use in Maryland and still houses a vibrant and active congregation. They provide beautiful services every Shabbat, as well as each Sunday morning and on the religious and secular holidays.

I was privileged to be one of about 900 people on the three chartered planes arranged by the Detroit Federation to take us to the March for Israel rally in Washington D.C. The plane I was on landed on time, 10:30 a.m., at an airfield adjacent to Dulles Airport. Everyone excitedly stood up and waited in the aisle to get off the plane. We were anticipating the buses that had been ordered to transport us to the National Mall. After about 45 minutes, we were told that the buses weren’t coming and that there was a problem: The drivers refused to take us to the rally.

Detroit Federation started working on getting other buses, but TSA and FAA regulations were making this difficult. As more and more time passed, you could feel the mood dropping, and by one o’clock, we realized that we might not make it to the rally.

In the late 1960s, when I was a senior at Towson University, then called Towson State College, I was appointed as a student representative to a faculty curriculum committee meeting, where I experienced the only antisemitic slur in my four years at Towson. Because I was very young, I didn’t know what to say when a faculty member who was against bringing a business curriculum to Towson suggested that it would attract more Jews. A few minutes later, I walked out of that meeting and never came back. At that time, the Jewish Students Association, a worthy school club, existed, but it wasn’t a place to report antisemitism.

Today, Jewish students at Towson and other Maryland colleges gain support through Chabad and Hillel on campus. After the massacre by terrorists in Israel on Simchas Torah, that support is needed more than ever.

Shortly after the Simchas Torah war began, I scribbled a heartfelt message to a soldier on a Star-K memo pad sheet. A week later, I was very gratified to see a WhatsApp photo of a smiling IDF soldier holding my note. The initiative to collect letters and children’s drawings for the soldiers was at the behest of my coworker, Adina Michelsohn. She also put me in touch with four young, energetic Baltimoreans who are passionately working day and night to help ensure the chayalim and their families get the help they need. Here is their story.