We need to be givers, not takers

“How can I alone carry your contentiousness, your burdens, and your quarrels?” (Devarim 1:12)

The Midrash (Eichah Rabbah 1:1) notes that there are three instances in Tanach where the word eichah appears: Here in Devarim; in Yeshayahu (1:21) when he declares, “How the faithful city has become a zonah”; and in the first pasuk of Megillas Eichah, where Yirmiyahu laments, “How does she sit in solitude!”

In the first instance, Moshe was witnessing Bnei Yisrael in their glory. When Yeshayahu says “eichah,” he was rebuking them for their rebellion, and Yirmiyahu said “eichah” when lamenting Klal Yisrael’s state of degradation. It seems that these three circumstances couldn’t be more different. Yet “eichah” applies to all three. Why?  (Rabbi Binyomin Adler, Shabbos Ta’am HaChaim)

Note Date: June 19, 2025

Dear Editor,

We’re a group of mothers who’ve taken upon ourselves to inform you how so many of your advertisements are offensive to us at this time. You have a full-page ad advertising skylights. Are you aware that our sealed rooms cannot boast skylights? Furthermore, you feature day camps and sleepaway camps, all showing kids having fun outdoors. Our children do not venture outdoors right now and these pictures promote jealousy. Plus, consider the feelings of envy we experience when viewing advertisements for new baby clothes, new kids’ seasonal clothes, new anything, as all our stores are closed! Please note that while we may not be your biggest subscribing power, we’re still a force to be considered and we implore you to take our sensitivities into account when splashing your pages with so many forbidden items.

Sincerely,

MIMs (for the uninaugurated: Moms in Mamads)

When Moshe wondered how he’d bear the burden of Bnei Yisrael, he was bemoaning that Klal Yisrael had everything delivered to them on a silver platter, yet still couldn’t resist descending into pettiness and quarrels.

Comparatively, Yeshayahu saw Bnei Yisrael rebelling; that, too, was due to dissatisfaction and neediness, wanting more than they had now. And  Yirmiyahu saw them in a state of degradation, needy for salvation.  Three different states of existence, but all three reflect Bnei Yisrael on the receiving end — not the giving end.

While officially the “12-Day War” that prompted that June letter is behind us, the frightening wail of the air-raid sirens isn’t. In the ensuing weeks, there’ve been more incoming missiles from the Houthis, and even Hamas, despite their supposedly decimated state. And, at least to this American-born hysterical female, you don’t simply bounce back from something like Iranian warheads aimed directly at you.

So there are still days when my brain simply won’t work, and can’t engage beyond figuring out what’s for breakfast, lunch, and supper, and the 101 snacks needed to get through the waking day. Plus, the night.  But I’m trying to rehabilitate by focusing on the positive. Like the fact that my mamad — my safe room — is now available to host all of my chuztnik guests when Mashiach comes.

Here’s a powerful lesson in human nature: Being satisfied with what we have helps us avoid baseless hatred. Desiring more only leads to contentiousness and quarrels. The Gemara (Yoma 9b) states that Bayis Sheini was destroyed because of baseless hatred. One of the catalysts for this hatred is desiring more — being needy.  We need to be givers, not takers.

Still, there are flashbacks. An ambulance wail shoots my mind right back to time in the mamad, the air stifling because once you sealed the door, the room became a vacuum, especially with 12 people breathing. (One of my marrieds moved in during the war.) I’ll leave you to do the physics.

There were no skylights, not enough mattresses or blankets or plastic cups (we used a whole sleeve during the very first air raid), and the snacks on hand were the ones nobody wanted to eat.  When you entered the mamad you said goodbye to all your creature comforts and… you became transformed from a taker to a giver.

I spent many a night comforting my granddaughters and my younger kids, offering stability when my own resources seemed depleted.

I learned to go from taking the comforts we assume are necessary — AC, bathrooms, pillows, beds — and become a giver of a different kind of comfort.

And despite the incredible stress and panic of those days, I’ll never forget the feeling of that transformation — of becoming an MIM.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 954)