Imagine a young boy named Avraham struggling with his math homework. Each night, his parents see him growing increasingly frustrated, often ending his study sessions in anger or tears. One evening, his mother, exasperated herself, tries a different approach. Instead of saying, “Don’t worry, you’re smart,” she praises his effort: “Avraham, I noticed how hard you tried to solve those problems tonight. Your persistence is impressive.” Over time, Avraham’s attitude towards math begins to shift. He starts approaching his homework with more determination, slowly realizing that his effort is making a difference.

About 17 years ago, we prepared to bid farewell to our eldest son, Avi, as he departed for his post-high school year in Israel. Little did we know that this gap year would turn into a life in the Holy Land. I have to confess that I was warned: “You spent three years in Israel after high school,” he cleverly argued, “so I get at least three years!”

Negotiations were unnecessary. My wife and I were happy to let him stay as long as he liked, and we’re even more elated that he and his family have made their lives here. 

These were the days before phones had decent cameras, so as the date of his departure drew closer, I asked a photographer friend to come to the house and take a family photo shoot. 

With a wry smile on his face, Avi said, “I get it. We’re doing this so you’ll have pictures of me, in case anything happens.” 

I was shocked. I don’t think that morbid idea was even in the back of my mind, let alone anywhere near my frontal lobe.

Off he went to Israel, followed a couple of years later by his baby brother, Arky. Both of them, as I like to put it, “forgot” to come back to the USA. Both spent a number of years in yeshiva and then did their service in the IDF. 

Countless family photos have been taken since then, and, thank G-d, the number of people in the photos has increased, as wonderful wives and adorable children have quite literally entered the picture. 

 We are hearing a lot about L’Chaim Day Program, a new program being offered in our community. We wanted to learn more, so here, in their own words, is what they are all about.

Chani Klein: What is the L’Chaim Day Program?

L’Chaim Day Program is a new and exciting program that, with Hashem’s help, was recently opened in the community. It’s geared towards seniors but really anyone is welcome to attend. The goal for L’Chaim Day Program is to be a hub of exciting activities and a safe place for people to meet and enjoy themselves. From 9:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. there’s non-stop action, including exercise classes, lectures, art groups, shiurim, brain stimulation games, and live music.

The events surrounding the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash are recorded in various historical sources and religious texts, and many of these have found their way into the current liturgy of Tisha B’Av. Although sometimes garbed in poetry and metaphor, the elements being described are real objects of stone, metal, and wood, and by further examining their details, we can gain a better understanding of our prayers. Consider the following incident, referenced in Kinnah 32, that occurred during the final hours of the First Beis Hamikdash era:

We’re visiting our daughter and family. I’m in their basement suite getting ready for Shabbos and hear our granddaughter’s voice from upstairs. She’s busy running here and there, singing her sweet songs one moment and making demands of her parents in the next, very much acting like her two-year-old self.

While I don’t remember being that age myself, the story that’s been told to me on numerous occasions is that by the time I was three, I was a force to be reckoned with. Like my cute little granddaughter upstairs, I had a voice that was naturally loud. I was interested in everything around me and made plenty of comments. I “called them as I saw them,” whether they were happy exclamations or angry outbursts. I had a voice and made my opinions known to one and all.

Editor’s note: Welcome to the second installment of our new column, “Dating Perspectives.” The column will feature various shadchanim writing about any aspect of shidduchim that they feel strongly about. We also invite others to write – whether parents, singles, rebbeim, or teachers. If you have an opinion or a story – here’s your chance to get it out there. Contact us at adswww@aol.com.

Just this week, a good friend and fellow shadchan was bemoaning the fact that people do not consider paying shadchanus important and that something needs to be done about it. She then shared with me that The Shidduch Center of Baltimore was actually in the midst of addressing this very issue and would be publishing guidelines for the community soon. Honestly, I have always had mixed feelings about this. Don’t get me wrong, I do feel that a shadchan should be paid for his or her services, but I have had many different experiences with this over the last 40 years of people being incredibly, embarrassingly generous and those who simply forgot or didn’t think they had any reason to pay me.

Over the past few years I have had the privilege of writing regularly for What Where When. I appreciate the fact that I have had a lot of latitude in expressing my opinions – which, sometimes, some readers find objectionable. In this month’s letters to the editor, Ken Saks wrote a very reasonable rebuttal to some things I said in last month’s article, contrasting the Reagan administration with the Obama/Biden years.

Ken’s letter [see Letters to the Editor] was carefully crafted and well written. Therefore, I felt that I needed to respond in a similar manner, appreciating the fact that he and I may not agree, but we can engage each other respectfully.

In December 2023, I received an email from the organization DVI (Dental Volunteers for Israel) describing how they were treating the thousands of Israelis displaced from their homes by the attack on October 7^th along with the underserved youth population they usually treat. The email also stated that many volunteers had cancelled their trips due to the war.

I had been agonizing about the war and had made financial contributions but still had a feeling of helplessness. I realized immediately that this was my opportunity to contribute in a personal way to the plight of our brothers and sisters. I set in motion plans to travel to Israel, and two months later, I was blessed to find myself at the Trudi Birger Dental Clinic contributing my skills in a meaningful way.

I would like to comment on the recent article by Malka Weintraub in the Pesach 2024 issue, and the subsequent reaction by Josh Hurewitz and response by Malka Weintraub in the May 2024 issue.

I am uniquely suited to offer commentary on this topic. I graduated from junior college with a certificate in electronics as well as a First Class Radiotelephone Operators license. Subsequently, I went to college and obtained two bachelor’s degrees, one in chemistry and one in biology. I later attended Johns Hopkins and obtained a masters in chemistry. Therefore, I know something about trade school, and I know something about college.

I converted last month. It was a simple process: no fanfare, no studying or preparation. With the click of a button, I went from being a Democrat to a Republican. 

I’d gone to renew my driver’s license. In addition to confirming my weight, height, eyeglasses, and organ donation status, the online form also asked if I wanted to register to vote or change my party affiliation. There it was: the question I’d been asking myself for the last few years. So why did it take so long to do?