Pre-Covid seems like such a long time ago. In reality, it has only been just over two-and-a-half years since the world was so much more stable and seemingly normal. These days, it’s quite hard to remember what normal felt like. We are living in such bizarre and unsettling times.

Ever since my teens, I’ve always had a sense of foreboding as we entered the three weeks of mourning for the Beis Hamikdash. That feeling would intensify from Rosh Chodesh Av through Tisha b’Av. Then, after Shabbos Nachamu, my mood would improve, and I returned to enjoying summer. This year the feelings of foreboding started many months before Shiva Asar B’Tamuz.

There’s nothing like a Goldberg and Goldstein who are best friends. You know the type? Friends since the nursery at the hospital. With the same birthdays, living on the same block – can you even imagine us not getting mixed up? I mean, come on. Basi Goldberg and Batsheva Goldstein both living on Glengyle and in seventh grade.

Batsheva and I decided that this would be the best summer of our lives. As best friends, I’m sure you can imagine we have had our fair share of fun times and great summers. Like last year, when we decided to make a camp. Did you know that choosing a name for your camp is almost as important as the counselors that you hire? The two of us hacked the system and figured out the method to the madness. You ready? Nursery through second-grade age: Camp names must include a food. Camp Sprinkles, Camp Ice-Pop, Camp Mac’n Cheese, Camp Cupcake. We stayed up late wondering why there are no boy staples in the mix, like Camp Deli-Roll or Camp Kishke or Camp Cholent – but I digress!

The Baltimore community suffered an immeasurable loss. A beloved Rebbe, Rav, and embodiment of ahavas Yisrael in human form returned to the Yeshiva Shel Maaleh on ches Sivan.

Rabbi Peretz Avraham Dinovitz, zt”l, master mechanech (educator) and what I call a rebbe’s rebbe, will be sorely missed by scores of people. Having taught third grade for 30 years, and quite proud of his “job,” Rabbi Dinovitz saw the beauty in each and every talmid. Listening at the levaya (funeral) to the stories from some of those talmidim, now adults spread throughout the world and spanning the Jewish spectrum, was testimony to Rabbi Dinovitz’s love and influence. His acts of chesed were outstanding, reflecting his core belief of being nosei b’ol im chaveiro (carrying another’s burden). Nothing was impossible in his mind, and as such, many people identified with him as their personal rebbe. Yes, he will be sorely missed, and we may never know the full scope of his kindness and greatness. But in truth, that was typical of his humble demeanor and the very person that he was.

Sweet and Spicy Meatballs

Most everyone knows this classic for “Meatball Mondays.” My twist on it is adding some kebab seasoning with chili flakes. It comes together easily and is a full meal when served with spaghetti or rice and a salad. My family enjoyed it for a last-minute Hoshana Raba seudah. From my experience, I prefer fresh ground beef with half of the fat. It has better consistency and holds its shape, not getting too watery.

Despite the heavy toll Covid took on us, many people found opportunity in the midst of a difficult situation. At the risk of minimizing the hardships and losses we faced during this time – especially of those who suffered horrendous tragedies – I polled members of our greater community to see what their personal silver lining was. After all, isn’t the legendary resiliency of the Jewish nation in the face of tragedy partly due to our seeking out any possible good?

It was November of 2001, shortly after the savage attacks of 9/11, and America was gripped with fear of illness and death from the anthrax envelopes sent to government officials. The U.S. government was concerned about a much larger biological attack against Americans with a more potent infectious agent – smallpox virus. Smallpox vaccinations had ended in 1972 after smallpox was eradicated in the U.S.A. Millions of Americans thus lacked immunity to the virus. To prepare for a possible smallpox attack, the University of Maryland School of Medicine opened a clinical trial. Because there was a limited supply of the smallpox vaccinia vaccine, the question was whether a reduced dose of the vaccine could generate a sufficient immune response to protect the population.

Dear Dr. Kidorf,

I just came home from Israel. I was in a good yeshiva, and it was a great two years. I learned a lot, saw the country – it was great. One thing I learned in Israel was how to drink on Shabbos. Most guys did, so I tried it. And I liked it. But I only drink on Shabbos; never during the week.

Before my first Shabbos home, I asked my mother if she would buy some beer. (I can’t buy it myself as I am only 20.) She agreed. On Friday night, I was trying all the wines on the table. My parents always put out a lot of bottles of wine, all different kinds – not that anybody drinks a lot. But they enjoy wine.

“Children are investments. Grandchildren are pure interest” goes an old saying. Everyone knows that the relationship between grandchildren and their grandparents is special. The question is why? What do grandparents actually do? How do their grandchildren feel about it? And is it always an idyllic relationship? 

Growing up, I did not know my grandparents well because they lived in England. Many of my classmates did not have grandparents living in the same city as themselves either. Some of them were children of Holocaust survivors, and their grandparents had been killed. Others were children of immigrants,

Ambassador David Friedman has long stepped down from his duties as the 20^th U.S. Ambassador to Israel following President Biden’s defeat of President Donald Trump in November 2020. However, Ambassador Friedman leaves an incredible legacy as one of the most consequential U.S. ambassadors to Israel.

This year, Ambassador Friedman published a memoir titled Sledgehammer: How Breaking with the Past Brought Peace to the Middle East, which documents his experience as Ambassador to Israel under President Trump and is quite a fascinating read. A remarkable 10,000-plus copies were sold in its first week of publication. According to Eric Nelson, Vice-President and Editorial Director of Broadside Books, the publisher of Friedman’s memoir, “It was the biggest first week of sales in Bookscan for a book about Israel in nearly 10 years.”

My family does not have a Holocaust story. As far as I know, all four sets of grandparents arrived here from Lithuania and Russia by 1910 to 1912. We were safe and had no knowledge of those left behind. The erroneous belief that we were secure allowed me to grow up in the 1950s seeing numbers on the arms of older neighbors and thinking that they belonged to a faraway time and place. It enabled me to watch documentaries of emaciated human beings being liberated and understand nothing about what had happened to them. It freed me to ride my bike, to roam and play on sandlots and railway tracks with nary a care of anyone targeting me. As a teen, I was much more of an “American Jewish Princess” than a young woman growing up with a sense of identity tied to a historical legacy, a legacy I now realize is impossible and callous to deny. Not only do I have to acknowledge my connecting cord to this central Jewish trauma, but I’ve come to realize that my insides reverberate deeply to the experience that others have shouldered for so long in their muscles, bones, and nerve fibers.