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I pick up my phone to call my mother. I stop. It’s Yom Tov tomorrow. Must I ruin it for everyone?

It’s so easy to tell Hashem, You can have my dolls and teddy bear. My Shabbos and kashrus. My elbows and knees… but my pearls, my tzniyus, my hair — that’s mine.

A small corner of my Gan Eden will feature a pile of Divine garbage, smelling of roses

“Why do you think you lost?” one reporter asked. “Because the judge was on the boys’ side,”