“To those children who were fortunate to be part of this summer experience: Please be sensitive and understand that not everyone was able to do it”

You Have to Ask [Inbox / Issue 1077]

To the letter writer from Lakewood who complains that their relative donates generously to mosdos but doesn’t provide sufficiently for relatives: Once again, you highlight the need for all baalei tzedakah, big or small, to bring their tzedakah questions to a rav. A rav can help anyone with questions of whom to give and how much, al pi halachah. Perhaps your personal need is a priority, perhaps not, but that is for your relative to discuss with their rav.

That being said, I’d like to venture a guess. The reason the mosdos get from your relative and you don’t is because you haven’t asked, while they have. How is your relative supposed to know that you’re an ani who deserves tzedakah unless you ask, especially if they’re already providing you with a job, the highest form of tzedakah per the Rambam?

I would suggest you knock on the door, just like anyone else, explain your needs, and ask for tzedakah help. If you’re too embarrassed, your rav can help you make the connection. I’m sure your relative will be happy to give once they know your need, assuming it conforms with halachah.

Eli Blum

Lawrence, NY

Role Models in Monsey [Growing Up Greenwald and Voice of History / Issues 1076 and 1075]

I found it heartwarming to read about two great Monsey pillars who helped shape the lives of myself and my siblings.

Growing up in “old” Monsey back in the 1970s, ’80s, and ’90s, Rabbi Berel Wein and Rabbi Ronnie Greenwald were mechanchim who were way ahead of their times in chinuch. They were the same age, from the same generation, and gave over the mesorah with love and acceptance. They accepted kids from much less Orthodox homes into camp and yeshivah with no judgment and showed them the beauty of Yiddishkeit.

Rabbi Berel Wein’s Jewish history seforim and tapes have circulated the globe. He brought history to life, and even kids today can connect to those lessons.

As a former camper of Camp Sternberg, those summers were my best childhood memories. Chana Shterna Greenwald’s memories of Intensive Pioneers made me laugh so hard. I was a camper that first year. One Shabbos, as I was getting dressed, I saw a raccoon had taken a huge bite out of my skirt! We thought it was hysterical (though when I returned home from camp, my dear mother did not find it humorous).

Both Rabbi Wein and Rabbi Greenwald had their own sense of humor and huge personalities, and talmidim and campers gravitated to them as role models. Now these life lessons are being passed down from generation to generation.

Esti Kessler (Behrend)

Victims of Our Own Success [Guestlines / Issue 1075]

The article regarding having a rav was an impactful and important piece. Yasher koach to Rabbi Moshe Walter for bringing this subject to life in such a clear, thorough, “emesdig” and well-written article.

I’d like to suggest that the reason not everyone feels they need a rav is that as a community, we’re victims of our own success. In a time where so many people are learned individuals, people don’t feel the need to ask sh’eilos. But when people don’t ask rabbanim for piskei halachah, they also lose the opportunity for connection. I’m appreciative that the article shed light on this topic.

Y.K.

Lakewood, NJ

Our Rav, Our Miracle [Voice of History / Issue 1075]

So much beautiful content has recently been written about Rabbi Berel Wein  a”h, yet most of what has been published focused on his many public accomplishments as an orator, writer, rosh yeshivah, and teacher of Jewish history. However, there was also a different facet to Rabbi Wein. For 25 years, we had the privilege of having him serve as the mara d’asra of our shul, Congregation Bais Torah in Suffern, New York. His leadership and wisdom impacted our daily lives and influenced our families.

This past week, Rabbi Chaim Wein spoke emotionally in public about his father’s relationship with the shul. Bais Torah was started in a Monsey basement of a single-family house by families from all walks of life. It was quite remarkable how those differences came together and created a unique aura in the shul. Everyone felt the connection as we traveled along, not only through Jewish history but also Mishnayos, Pirkei Avos, the Rambam, Gemara, and so much more.

Every Shabbos was unique and special, with multiple shiurim for the adults and the many children of the shul. His great wit, sense of timing, and relevance to what was going on in the world exposed us to many chesed opportunities and sensitized us to how we, too, were destined to become relevant players in Jewish history. “Always know where we come from — our grandparents. And know where we’re going — our grandchildren.”

We all grew and became better people and Jews with the constant reminder of one of his many mentors: When in doubt, always ask, “Und vuz zugt G-t?”

Noam Herman, who grew up in Bais Torah and is now a grandfather in Israel, recently shared the following story. “When I called Rav Copperman on Motzaei Shabbat to tell him that Rabbi Wein had passed away, he shared that one of the things that has recently resonated with him about Rabbi Wein is his frequent saying: ‘Ein baal haneis makir b’niso — the recipient of a miracle doesn’t recognize the miracle.’ Rabbi Wein repeated this many times over the last two challenging years, saying that b’derech hateva, we shouldn’t be here. Hamas, Hezbollah, the Houthis, Iranian missiles, all should have destroyed the State of Israel. And yet, through great miracles, not only have we been spared, but we continue to thrive. Rabbi Wein would remind us that when you are the recipient of a miracle, you begin to think that it’s the norm.

“I was thinking today that we are so fortunate to have grown up in Bais Torah and meriting a relationship with the Weins. I never fully appreciated how fortunate we were to have them in our lives. I assumed it was normal —that everyone had a rav like Rabbi Wein. Only now do I begin to realize how unique and extraordinary that gift really was.”

I’m certain this feeling extends to all of the many families of Congregation Bais Torah who have expressed similar thoughts.

Congregation Bais Torah

Suffern, New York

Only One Antidote [Screenshot / Issue 1074]

In response to Shoshana Friedman’s beautifully articulated article about the savta and her divided family, as well as the letter written in response, I feel compelled to share a thought.

Before Tishah B’Av, Mrs. Dina Schoonmaker began a shiur with the piercing question: “What is wrong with us?” Time and again, Chazal remind us that our tzaros stem from sinas chinam — and time and again we fail to listen. What is wrong with us, why don’t we listen?

Mishpacha has been tireless in bringing critical issues to light: the shidduch crisis, infertility, terror, mental health, OTD, addiction, and more — searching for solutions. Yet the answer has already been given to us: sinas chinam. From the moment Moshe Rabbeinu declared, “Achein noda hadavar,” upon seeing one Jew harm another, until today — when we can see how the sinas chinam is directly related to October 7 and the surge of anti-Semitism not seen since the Holocaust — the message remains unchanged.

And yet, we persist in clinging to our righteous views, dismissing those who disagree. We cast blame on “chareidim shirking responsibility” or on “the army seeking to destroy spirituality.” Meanwhile, our enemies rejoice at our division. What is wrong with us?

We don’t have to agree with one another — but we do have to support one another. The families who send their husbands and sons off to battle again and again, who live with unimaginable losses and jump at every knock on the door, deserve to be acknowledged, appreciated, and embraced by those who cannot in good conscience send their men into spiritual danger. Respect, appreciation, and love must flow in both directions.

The “savtas” and women mentioned in last week’s letter embody the antidote: those who step in to support, feed, comfort, and encourage the mothers whose husbands are away. If we truly could be there for one another, there would be no need for a draft — because there would be no war.

Hashem asks of us only one thing: to end the sinas chinam. Until we take this to heart, we will keep asking, “What is wrong with us?”

This is where Mishpacha can make an even greater impact. Alongside highlighting the many challenges facing Klal Yisrael, use your powerful platform to help us brainstorm and model practical ways to grow in ahavas chinam. Share stories, initiatives, and tools that inspire us to bridge divides, to connect with each other, and to respect and love even when we do not agree. If we can begin to shift the conversation from division to unity, the ripple effects could be profound.

R.S.

Back to Basics [Open Mic / Issue 1074]

I was very impressed by Dovid Aryeh Rosenblatt’s recognition of the need for those who have more to contribute to those living a kollel life and holding up the world. However, I believe the method he suggests is wrong.

Rosenblatt describes his chavrusa with Motti, a kollel yungerman supporting his four children, in his converted dining room with a Formica table, then contrasting the scene with the meeting where refreshments are served, including “hand-rolled sushi, single-origin pour-over coffee, and delicate French pastries arranged like jewelry... every item whispering comfort, abundance, and care.”

The carefully curated spread at the meeting is not “whispering” anything. It is shouting. Loudly.

Continuing to raise the bar is antithetical to our frum lifestyles. To live as a frum Yid is to live with anavah. No matter how many excuses or reasonings we slap on to such expensive purchases, no matter how much we can afford, these extravagances scream out “ga’avah.”

The article should have done a deep dive into how we’ve gotten to this level of spending and perhaps discussed some ways of scaling back. Instead of naming the issue as the spending itself, the article accepts that as an unchangeable fact. But just because you have the money doesn’t mean you have to spend all of it. It takes a healthy dose of good old Jewish anavah to realize this. Money comes from the Eibeshter, and I don’t believe He gives it to us to have an extra singer at our child’s wedding. I believe he gives it to us to help a fellow Yid.

Instead of spending the “$8,000 on a new sheitel for Yom Tov — custom cut and same-day styling,” and giving a token $800 toward a kollel family’s Yom Tov grocery bill, you can also spend $4,000 (no cheap change) on a gorgeous, beautiful sheitel and give $2,000 toward that same kollel family, while still coming out ahead. Instead of getting the new pergola, outdoor oven, and stone firepit, get a wooden pergola for half the price or a metal firepit, achieve the same look, and still give that beautiful token check to a local kollel family.

The article almost suggests a certain alleviation of guilt for spending on ourselves by giving a token tax to the needy. I suggest that instead we should reexamine our priorities. We have to be honest with ourselves, and this is the perfect time of year to reprioritize our spending.

Those like you and I who are frum, working, Lakewood balabatim can contribute to those here who need the help. But instead of continuing to outspend and out-do each other, and then giving a token “luxury tax to sleep better at night,” I suggest we should re-crunch those numbers. By spending a non-extravagant amount on ourselves and helping the needy even more, we can still come out ahead. In that way, we will all gain in the long run.

Menachem,

Lakewood, NJ

Not Everyone Goes to Camp [TLC Talks / Issue 1066]

The TLC Talks provides great insight and food for thought. One of the columns brought up something that has been prevalent in frum media over the past weeks as our society segues from camp to school mode. There is clearly so much that we all gain from camp, and we hope that some of the camp experience will spill over into the school year.

Still, it behooves us to remember that while frum media, both this magazine and other popular venues, are celebrating and desperately holding on to the vestiges of another amazing summer gone by, there are many in our schools and communities who desperately wished but did not have the opportunity to go to sleepaway camp.

To those children who were fortunate to be part of this summer experience: Please be sensitive and understand that not everyone was able to do it.

For many families, the cost of sleepaway camp is prohibitive, even with communal assistance, and for many others, their children have trouble getting into the camps that make sense for their hashkafos and demographics.

It’s great to uphold the camp vision; Klal Yisrael has thrived through its sleepaway camps.

But let’s remember that a significant part of the population around us — those who go to school with our children — have not been able to share in this pivotal, life forming experience. Let’s be sensitive about screaming about it from the rooftops.

A Reader

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1079)