Three doses of inspiration to lift the spirit and soul

Around the Campfire

by Mindel Kassorla

MYwedding day was beautifully orchestrated down to the finest details, and thankfully, I had nothing to do with it. My mother did a spectacular job. I spent my entire engagement in Eretz Yisrael, so I quite literally showed up in Brooklyn with a gown, ready to dance. It wasn’t hard for me, then, to concede the choice of song for my walk down the aisle to my mother, who has a deep love for “V’zakeini.” It was the least I could do! Besides, I was under a veil the whole time, oblivious to my surroundings, so it made zero difference to me.

At the time, I didn’t have a particular affinity for “V’zakeini.” To be honest, I was a little sick of hearing it belted out at every single kumzitz. But I’m grateful that this is the tefillah upon which my marriage began, because a short while later, I was — quite literally — singing a different tune.

For the first few years, we weren’t yet blessed with children. And every Friday night, I said the words of “v’zakeini.” Sometimes through tears, other times in an attempted song, and at times in painful dissociation. But I always said them. The tefillah was inscribed on a silver plaque by my licht, urging me to daven harder, to storm the Heavens for an answer. HaKadosh Baruch Hu ultimately granted us three incredible brachos — our children, now eleven, six, and three.

It was always an anchor for us to focus on the heart of the song, the essence of the tefillah: “U’me’irim es ha’olam b’Torah uv’maasim tovim uv’chol meleches avodas HaBorei.” Why do we ask for children? Why do we ask for anything? Not for ourselves, but to bring light into the world through Torah, mitzvos, and avodas Hashem.

We’re not perfect. It feels almost hypocritical to claim that whatever we ask for is purely in the service of Hashem. But this isn’t an all-or-nothing endeavor.

When we pause to reflect on what we daven for, we can challenge ourselves: How will I use this in the service of Hashem? How can this make me a better Yid? How will this bring me closer to my Creator and give me the ability to bring more light into His world?

We can’t commit to perfection. But neither can we lose sight of the goal — to illuminate Hashem’s world with the good He gives us.

Thank you to my sister, Cindy Landesman, who inspired this piece.

When We Stop 

Personal Development

Rebbetzin Dina Schoonmaker

Why is it that so often, problems seem to resolve themselves at the very moment we let go of trying to fix them?

Maybe this is in order to teach us a correct hashkafah regarding hishtadlus.

The pasuk in Tehillim (3:6) teaches us, “Ani shachavti v’ishneh hakitzosi ki Hashem yismechan — I lie down and sleep, and wake [to find] that Hashem sustains me.”

Of course, we put in our effort during the waking hours, but when we go to sleep — when we stop doing — that is when we see the Hand of Hashem creates the solution. As the Ramchal teaches in Mesillas Yesharim, hishtadlus doesn’t change the outcome, but rather it’s the contribution He requests of us, while He controls the outcome.

We have a chance to see this firsthand every single week — at candlelighting time. We work all week and come Friday, the house can be flying. We try to get it all in: one more phone call, another business deal, an additional dessert to crown the Shabbos meal. But when the sun begins to set in the sky, everything must stop.

In our day-to-day lives, there are no “imposed” candlelighting times to stop the hishtadlus, but we can mandate them ourselves. That project you’re working on, or the shidduch that you’re putting all that effort into… we can work and work on it, but only up to a point, a point of our choosing.

That point might be when it’s time for dinner, and we put away the phones and focus the conversation on reflection and connection. It might be when we’re spending time with a friend who needs an active listening ear. Or it might be at an appointed time of personal relaxation, when we’ve got to shift our focus and let go.

Whatever the time is, we can all bring “candlelighting” times into our week. And maybe we will see directly where the real solutions come from.

Noticing the Good

In Search of Happiness

Rebbetzin Aviva Feiner

Summer has arrived and brings with it the abundant reminders of the beautiful world that Hashem gifted us with. The birds are chirping, and the flowers have blossomed. Do we see Him?

Hakaras hatov is the ability to recognize the good in our experiences, the good in our world. Rav Dessler points out that when we see the good, we become thankful.

Have you noticed that a grateful person is a happy person? And that to be makir tov, we need to be wearing humble glasses. The kafoi tov — ingrate — is someone who misguidedly thinks they are entitled to all of their desires. It’s owed to them.

L’anavim yiten chen (Mishlei 3:34). The humble person is gifted with benevolence.

To see the beauty of Hashem’s world, you have to look up. So much of it is way above the purview of eye level. The humble person is aware that there is so much greater than she is — she sees her gifts and she embraces them. She will also use them to please her Benefactor Who bestows all the good.

This is a magnificent understanding of ivdu es Hashem b’simchah. Look up, notice, see. V’al kulam — and for all that we thank Hashem for — yisgdal viyiskadash Shimcha Malkeineu. Through every bit of good in my life, let Hashem’s Name becomes greater and greater.

Starting with the greatest gift that Hashem gives us every day — our neshamos —we will serve You, Hashem, b’simchah! It’s a wonderful reciprocal relationship: The more good you notice, the happier you’ll be, and the more good you’ll pay attention to and the better eved Hashem you will be.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 948)