Student Union opens ‘hasbara’ room in effort to fill public diplomacy vacuum.
But the years have a habit of sneaking up on us, and to our deep dismay we realize that the “boat” we thought was still docked has slipped away. But though we may have missed one “boat” there is always another to be found if we look and try hard enough.
Do You Know What Time It Is?
Our lives spread out in all directions,
Full of dreams and goals and human connections,
The attaining of which we put off, postpone,
Thinking that time is a commodity we own.
The clock goes on ticking, but we don’t hear,
Our world is young, so we have no fear
That the opportunities we have will cease to be,
To us the road is stretched out endlessly.
Yes, we have goals to achieve one day,
But what’s the rush, so what if we delay?
We’ll get to it soon; we can afford to wait,
So much time ahead, we won’t be late.
We’ll mail that letter; we’ll make that call,
We’ll get down to business, and give it our all.
But not today – why be stressed?
Tomorrow is when we’re at our best.
We so easily give ourselves permission
To postpone the work, the effort, the mission.
So with hardly a thought we set aside the task,
The importance of which we eagerly mask.
Too late, we come to realize
That while we do nothing, time still flies.
We turn around and there are no tomorrows,
Just unfulfilled dreams, regrets and sorrows.
But it doesn’t have to be this way,
Mourning the opportunities we let slip away.
Longing for what never came to be,
Because we couldn’t bother to face reality.
For each day bears the gift of a new beginning,
Where one can go from losing to winning;
By valuing our time and putting it to good use,
No wasting, no more squandering, no more abuse.
Instead each remaining moment must be treasured,
Used with great thought and carefully measured,
So that goals can be attained and relationships built,
And satisfaction and fulfillment replacing sad guilt.
You can’t look back, but you can look ahead,
And end the inertia and move forward instead,
And take those old dreams off the dusty shelves,
For Hashem helps those who help themselves.
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Written entirely through Frayda’s eyes, the reader is drawn by her unassuming personality.
Adopting an ancient exegetical approach that is based on midrashic readings of the text, thematic connections that span between various books of the Bible are revealed.
While Lipman comes from an ultra-Orthodox background and is an Orthodox rabbi, he offers a breath of fresh air when he suggests that “polarization caused by extremism and isolationism in the religious community may be the greatest internal threat to the future of the Jewish people”
The Joys of Yiddish, Leo Rosten defines a mentch as “someone to admire and emulate, someone of noble character.”
Certainly today’s communication via e-mail, Facebook, Twitter and the like, including the ubiquitous Whatsapp, has reduced the need to talk with people and communicate at length.
These two special women utilized their incredibly painful experience as an opportunity to assist others.
Maybe we don’t have to lose that growth and unity that we have achieved, especially with the situation in Eretz Yisrael right now.
Sleepily, I watched him kissing Mai’s chubby thighs.
I have always insisted that everything that happens to anyone or anything is min Shamayim.
My teachers like me and they tell my parents that I am a great girl with good middos.
The chicken and waffle nuggets were fabulous and were like chicken in a dessert form.
“Have you forgotten your dreams?” The Hope Merchant asks a defeated and hopeless Lily when she “happens” upon his shop.
A young lady in her early 20’s, “Sarah” was redt to “Shlomie” a boy from her home town who learned in an out-of-town yeshiva. The families know each other well, which in today’s shidduch scene is a big plus – since it was therefore unlikely the kids would “fall in” due to misinformation and misinterpretations.
They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and that is precisely what almost always happens in situations where a reference knew someone had serious but hidden emotional issues, but did not reveal the information to the person making inquiries.
Time never stood still for anyone – why would I be the exception? In my hubris, I thought that somehow I would live forever – and I suspect we all have secretly felt that way, even though we know it’s a fantasy.
One can argue that forgetting something on a regular basis is a sign of advancing age and it’s time to for a neurological evaluation, but based on the number of young people who need to replace a lost smart phone (too bad it’s not smart enough to warn its owner that that they have become separated – or is there an app for that too?), I safely can say that losing “stuff” cuts across the generations.
For quite a few days in late December, Toronto was transformed into a breathtaking – literally and figuratively – frigid winter wonderland, where every twig, leaf, car door, and outdoor wire and cable was totally encased in ice. When the sun shone the landscape was blindingly brilliant as if billions of diamonds had been glued to everything the eye could see.
Outside is a winter-white wonderland replete with dazzling trees, wires, and sidewalks seemingly wrapped in glittery silver foil. It’s quite lovely to look at, which is about all I can do since I’m stuck indoors. Icicle-laden tree branches are bent and hunch-backed by the frozen heaviness of their popsicle-like burden, and the voices squawking from the battery-operated transistor radio I am listening to are warning people not to go out since walkways and roads are extremely slippery, and there is real danger from falling trees.
The necessity of speaking up when you “have a hunch” applies even more when it comes to shidduchim. One little girl did just that – she said something – and I was fortunate enough to be in town for the very joyful, lively wedding that resulted from her speaking up.
Printed from: http://www.jewishpress.com/sections/magazine/do-you-know-what-time-it-is/2009/06/10/
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