“What if we look at our own interactions to discover ways to acknowledge, respect, and emphasize with the other side’s viewpoint?”

It Is Important to Daven in Yeshivah [Portal to the Potential Me / Issue 1027]

A great yasher koyach to Yehuda Geberer for his enlightening article on the evolution of the yeshivah system down to modern times.

I would like to share some anecdotes about the section on davening in yeshivah and the stress at least one yeshivah placed on it.

Rav Dovid Povarsky ztz”l (as told in a pamphlet published by the Ponevezh Yeshivah after his petirah) related that in his six years in the Mirrer Yeshivah, he never missed davening with the yeshivah once, except the day he became engaged, since his future mother-in-law begged him to attend the l’chayim in person, and unless he davened somewhere else, he wouldn’t have made his train. Rav Dovid continued this practice throughout his many years in Ponevezh and said that whenever he was in Bnei Brak, he only davened in the yeshivah.

One time, when he had a yahrtzeit, he allowed a conflicting chiyuv to have the amud, but instead of davening in any of the local shuls, he went to Petach Tikva and got the amud in a local shul so as not to “transgress” his kepeidah.

Additionally, when I had yahrtzeit for my father ztz”l when I was a talmid in Ponevezh, there was another chiyuv in yeshivah, and I intended to daven at the shul down the block. The Mashgiach, Rav Reuven Ginsberg ztz”l, evoking the name of his father-in- law Rav Chatzkel Levenstein ztz”l, told me that it is a bigger zechus to daven within the walls of the yeshivah than to daven in a shul, even at the expense of missing out leading the davening.

It seems like the Mirrer Yeshivah had a very strong dagesh on the significance of davening in yeshivah. On a visit to Eretz Yisrael years later for my father’s yahrtzeit, I was given the zechus to lead the davening in the Mirrer beis medrash in Yerushalayim. I couldn’t help but think what a zechus it was to daven from the amud there, of all places.

Rabbi Henoch Plotnik

Chicago, IL

Not a Ski Chalet [Portal to the Potential Me / Issue 1027]

The article about the history of yeshivahs included a quotation from Rav Meir of Rothenburg asserting that he made a mezuzah for his “winter home.” (See Mordechai, Halachos Ketanos, siman 962.) Some of your readers may have been led to believe that the Maharam had a ski chalet in the Bavarian Alps. This misconception is because the writer mistakenly translated the Hebrew “beis hachoref” literally. In truth, the term “beis hachoref” refers to nothing more luxurious than the kitchen. It was so called due to the fact that the oven was there, making it the warmest room in the house. During the frigid northern European winter months, the oven area was the most coveted spot in the house.

Shlomo Lefkowitz

Lakewood, NJ

Inbox Destroys Double Take [Inbox / Issue 1027]

I was reading yet another terrific Double Take, appreciating how various people can view the same situation so differently. Then the thought crossed my mind: But who is right? I must judge right and wrong. After all, if I make a convincing argument, then I might be featured in next week’s Inbox, and readers throughout the frum world will realize that side X is right and side Y is wrong.

But what if we do not judge? What if we realize that both sides have valid opinions, feelings, and perspectives? What if we notice that the same mitzvah (#235 in the Chinuch) that commands a beis din to judge correctly commands the rest of us to judge favorably?

What if we look at our own interactions to discover ways to acknowledge, respect, and emphasize with the other side’s viewpoint? What if we appreciate Rochel Samet’s phenomenal biweekly contributions, without sabotaging them by filling the Inbox with verdicts?

Yisrael Nechamkin

Counselors as Mentors [Inbox / Issue 1026]

As a mother of both counselors and campers in boys’ camps, as well as a veteran camp staff wife, I read the letters from concerned staff members with interest.

I was actually surprised to read that the counselors are considered by some to be mediocre boys. My experience has shown that the vast majority of counselors are actually very good role models for our boys. Not only do they demonstrate selflessness in choosing to utilize bein hazmanim to give of themselves to others, they are also bnei Torah with solid hashkafos who are careful to observe the mitzvos properly and are always looking to shteig.

Instead of disparaging the outstanding group of young men as “no longer mentors,” we should be applauding them for the meaningful contributions they make to the future of Klal Yisrael.

It is my humble opinion that these young men are giving chiyus to many campers that lasts for the duration of the school year (and many of them do keep in touch throughout), and giving their campers a solid foundation that helps them significantly down the road.

C.N.

The Importance of an Olympic Hero [Inbox / Issue 1026]

I noticed the criticism over publishing an article about a Hungarian Jewish Olympian’s exploits. However, I feel that the story is very important and teaches us essential all-too-forgotten lessons.

1) No matter how high and prestigious the Jew’s rise is in non-Jewish society, he can suffer the most ignominious fate. The legendary story of Rabi Amnon, author of Unesaneh Tokef, is but one of many examples of this.

2) The Jews of Hungary professed great love and affection for their country, yet their fellow countrymen reciprocated with furious hate. Professor Cecil D. Eby in Hungary at War (Penn State Press, 1998, p. 122) notes that only 48 Germans were involved in the sending of over 400,000 Hungarian Jews to Auschwitz. Twenty thousand Hungarians carried it out.

3) Hashem tells the Navi Yechezkel (20:32-33), “As to what enters your minds, it shall not be! As for what you say, ‘We will be like the nations...’ I swear that I will rule over you with a strong hand... and with outpoured wrath.” They thought that the more they were like the Hungarians, the more they would be liked by the Hungarians. Sadly, we are given stark reminders nowadays.

Yosef Eisen

Lakewood, NJ

A Humanizing Picture [For the Record / Issue 1026]

Many thanks to the authors of For the Record who provided a historical perspective of the Satmar Rav’s relationship with Eretz Yisrael. For those of us who have taken the plunge to study his writings, and have found his core philosophy vis-à-vis Hakamas haMedinah difficult to appreciate, this essay provides an enlightening and humanizing completion of the picture. (No, I’m not moved one iota toward adopting his philosophy, but I can certainly appreciate him more — as a result of reading the essay — as a person who cared sincerely about Klal Yisrael.)

Two technical observations:

1) The “Three Oaths” consisted of two directed toward Klal Yisrael and one directed toward the Umos HaOlam (the essay depicted all three oaths as being directed toward the Jews).

2) As the Satmar Rav acknowledged in VaYoel Moshe, the “Oaths” were not, technically, oaths, since they did not adhere to the technical requirements of oaths.

Hoping that Mishpacha will continue to highlight aspects of Klal Yisrael which will endear its varied segments to one another.

A. Goldman

Philadelphia, PA

Make Out-of-Town and In-Town Align [Double Take / Issue 1026]

The Double Take about the teacher who couldn’t make it back from her summer camp job in time for an in-service, and the principal who was insistent that all staff make every effort to attend really hit home, as I was in a similar situation at the start of the school year. My husband’s position in our out-of-town community finally allowed us to visit family in New York, but I then spent a lot of money to fly back by myself to attend a few hours of the in-service day, before returning to New York.

I understand the principal Mrs. Blumenthal’s frustration, as principals’ hands always seem to be tied. In the teacher’s defense, Mrs. Blumenthal should have warned the new staff when they were interviewing and the old staff when they were planning their summer jobs and vacations about the new policy of mandatory in-service attendance. I didn’t feel it was right to have had a lax attitude about the attendance all those years, and assume that by putting it on the calendar, the teachers would suddenly take responsibility and show up without resenting the new expectations.

It would be nice if the out-of-town schedules could align better with the in-town schools and if in-service days weren’t a week before school actually starts.

Thank you for always providing spot-on reading material.

S.K.

Curriculum Developer & Teacher’s Mentor

A Message from Hashem [The Moment / Issue 1026]

Thank you so much for sharing the story of the Hashgachah pratis involved in the search for Tzion Maron, who went missing at the Lava River Caves in Arizona and was miraculously found. Chasdei Hashem!

I want to point out something that struck me a few days later. I believe Hashem sent us a message through that event. We are missing Tzion (as in, Yerushalayim). We need to intensify our tefillos for our return to Tzion with rachamim. Let us not lose the message that it’s time to strengthen our kavanah when we daven for our return to Yerushalayim, may it be very soon!

Sarah Bayla Gross

Atlanta, GA

We Can All Do Kiruv [The Best of Hands / Issue 1026]

Nachman Seltzer’s story about his father-in-law, Rabbi Reuven Bodenheim, short-changes his shver’s role in the metamorphosis of Josh, the American backpacker he met in the airport, and in doing so, perpetuates a myth about kiruv.

The story recounts Rabbi Bodenheim’s airport encounter with Josh, his invitation for Josh to stay in his dirah, then escorting him to meet Rav Meir Schuster z”l at Ohr Somayach, and Josh going on to become a talmid chacham.

Reflecting on Josh’s impressive achievements, he writes, “Sometimes we are afforded the chance to change another person’s whole trajectory for the better with just a little hishtadlus. All I had done was offer Josh a place to stay and then accompany him to Ohr Somayach.”

This reflection, humble as it may be, reinforces the myth that kiruv belongs solely in the domain of “kiruv professionals” like Rav Meir Schuster and that success is measured by the other person’s life choices.

Rabbi Bodenheim did not simply, as the article implies, “run into” an American backpacker, offer him a place to stay, and then accompany him to Ohr Somayach. Rabbi Bodenheim followed Moshe Rabbeinu’s precedent: nasan einav v’libo lihiyos meitzar aleihem. He genuinely cared about his fellow Jew and acted on it by welcoming Josh into his life. That’s Kiruv 101.

The fact that Josh became a talmid chachom is a touching epilogue, but it was Rabbi Bodenheim’s genuine display of ahavas Yisrael that set Josh on his path. That alone qualifies him as a kiruv hero, even without the “happily ever after” ending.

For the record, Rav Meir Schuster was by no means a “kiruv professional.” He was an ish shekulo kadosh whose love for every Yid pulsated in his veins. Few people, if any, can match his achievements.

But thousands of regular men and women profoundly impact the lives of fellow Yidden — every single day — through programs like Partners in Torah, Torah Mates, Olami’s Mentorship program, and Project Inspire. Almost daily, we hear dramatic stories of lives transformed, not just through learning but through the genuine friendships they formed. More often, however, we do not hear how or whether someone’s life was changed.

As the saying attributed to Rav Yisrael Salanter goes, “M’darf tuhn, nisht oiftuhn — we’re obligated to do, not necessarily to achieve.” Once we do our hishtadlus, we leave it in the true best of Hands, Hashem’s.

Eli Gewirtz

Passaic, NJ

The Song They Sang in Auschwitz [Standing Ovation / Issue 1023]

Your article on the Kaliver Rebbe and his singing caught my eye. Of course the main topic was the song, “Sol a Kokosh Mar.” I was intrigued. A few years ago I heard an inspiring singer singing this song with such heart and emotion on Radio Kol Chai. I wanted so badly to save the song but was unsuccessful.

According to the article, this has been a niggun of chizuk for Am Yisrael, as we wait for the Geulah, for many generations.

I am a Camp Chedvah girl from the original days. I spent seven fabulous summers there, baruch Hashem.

I think that at the time the world had not yet fully discovered the concept of second-generation Holocaust survivors. I think researchers, educators, etc., might have found a treasure by meeting us in camp.

At least 90 percent of the girls in my days were children of Hungarian survivors. It was something we shared without realizing the depth of it. Girls spoke Hungarian in the corner, used Hungarian expressions. On visiting day, our parents stood in the parking lot speaking of the “lager,” numbers on their arms. Most of us did not have any grandparents. So many girls carried the name of relatives, sometimes even more than one relative who had perished al kiddush Hashem in the camps.

Once, I heard a bunch of girls singing “Sol a Kokosh Mar” with achdus and great emotion. “This is the song the Jews sang in Auschwitz,” they said.

I had never heard of it, but evidently others had. And then I, too, learned of the significance of the anguish and hope expressed by the Jews in the camps. I heard it many times in camp over the years and it stuck in my mind. Who would believe that 25 years after the war, so many teenage girl descendants were carrying on the song their relatives and others sang in the concentration camps?

With Hashem’s help, let us keep singing and davening for another Geulah and yeshuos, b’karov.

Zeldy Steinmetz

Far Rockaway, NY

Har Nof

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1028)