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Calligraphy
Breit had stopped walking to face Dovi. “Actually, you didn’t choose this, you were born into it. I married into this though, so I did this to myself”

By Dov Haller

Calligraphy
It’s a simchah, it’s a baby, a son for him and Batya. So what if the word son rips his heart clean in two, so what if his insides wrench from the pain of it

By Rochel Samet

Calligraphy
Miri answered as succinctly as possible. She was here to uncover a fraudster, not examine her innermost self

By Leora Klinberg

Calligraphy
"Yidden are givers, Yidden are generous, just speak to their hearts and they’ll open their pockets. Why doesn’t Motti realize that?”

By Blimi Rabinowitz

Calligraphy
This was an emergency. My mind raced. It could be nothing. It could be something. It could be congenital or genetic. Or then again, it could be nothing

By Chanie Spira

Calligraphy
She couldn’t have imagined how successful her channel would become, and that frightened her more than she would admit

By Ariella Schiller

Calligraphy
For one second, an avalanche of questions: What would Ahrele do? Where would he go? Could he ever go back to the way things were? And from there?

By Rivka Streicher

Calligraphy
So now I’m the poor friend receiving her tzedakah, when just a year ago I was the one helping her?

By Gila Arnold

Know This
Secrets. Stress, headaches, loneliness. Could this be normal? Those weren’t supposed to be part of our fairy tale

By Malky Cohn

Portrait of a Family
What would Devorah say if she came upstairs with that ribbon in her hair? Tamar thought about it. Probably nothing — but then tonight she’d complain to her parents that Tamar was ...

By Malka Grunhaus

My COVID Hero
As we mark one year since the pandemic changed our lives, we asked you to introduce us to your COVID heroes

By Perele Rubin

Inbox

By Mishpacha Readers

Make Her Day
We gave them $100. They made someone’s day. 9 stories

By Ariella Schiller

Between Brothers
These four brothers, separated by nearly a generation, say there was one doctrine their father baked into all their kishkes: a hatred for falsehood and a love for honesty

By Yochonon Donn