ArticleContributorColumn

There was one problem: I’m scared of THE BALL. You know, the ball

I could handle comments that lacked tact, brains, or both. This I couldn’t

I stared at baby Hendel in disbelief. How could this be accompanying her entry into the world?

“I’ve had enough of recovering! I can’t do this any longer! I’m going to make Shabbos!”

I’m the kooky lady who hides gifts — in pockets, slippers, even in the fridge

 Decades apart, these individuals unknowingly impacted the way I interact with the children in my life