Communicated: TefillaChillul Tefila Bifarhesia, as well as halachicly challenged verbiage and dress, are external manifestations of a critical lack of personal yiras shomayim which has lethal consequences.
Jews globally are commemorating the Three Weeks of Mourning period that began with last Sunday’s 17th Day of Tammuz fast and culminates with the Fast of Tisha B’Av. This period of time marks the breaching of Jerusalem’s walls through the destructions of our Holy Temples, and our subsequent exile from the Land of Israel.
During the two millennia of our galut,Jews from every corner of the planet were – at various times and places – tortured, brutalized, isolated into ghettos, accused of horrendous crimes, ostracized, prevented from earning a living, forced to convert, marginalized in every conceivable way, and more recently decimated by the millions.
We attribute our bitter, dark exile and the destruction of the Second Temple to lashon hara and sinat chinam (negative speech and baseless hatred) – often due to groundless jealously.
The following are two poems I wrote about the destructive impact of gossip and slander. I hope they will serve as a deterrent when one is tempted to say something they shouldn’t.
The Gossip’s Lament
You were a good friend, yet I caused you much pain,
For I gossiped about you – though there was little to gain.
Merely moments in the limelight, the center of attention,
It didn’t matter that what I said was a bit of my invention.
I snickered and mocked you behind your unsuspecting back,
I dissected your character, pointed out the qualities you lack.
I listed your failings, and belittled the things you do,
Not giving much thought if what I said was even true.
I revealed your secrets that I had sworn to secrecy,
I shattered forever your cherished privacy.
I did not pause to consider what I was doing to a friend,
I had damaged your reputation – one you might never be able to mend.
You had been there for me for so many years,
You delighted in my joys, and shared in my tears.
You soothed my worries, assuaged feelings that were hurt,
And I cravenly repaid you by dragging your name in the dirt.
Now I have lost you – and others have turned away,
I glance at a phone that is silent all day.
I destroyed a priceless gift for a false moment of “glory,”
And I know it can’t be fixed by saying, “I’m so sorry.”
Spoken Words
The spoken word is a powerful thing,
Whether uttered by a pauper or a powerful king.
For each word has a meaning and nuance that is unique,
And your words are a part of you that take wing when you speak.
Whether whispered very softly, or hurled in a shout,
A word is unstoppable – once it’s let out.
When you part with a word, you can’t get it back,
It flies to its intended – it’s full meaning intact.
A word can be a healing thing,
A word can make a sore heart sing.
A word can bring relief and hope to those in tears,
Or build bridges between strangers, dispelling all fears.
But a word can be a pain-inflicting thing,
It can cut, it can wound, it can deeply sting.
And for both speaker and listener, bring regret and shame,
A bond that once was – will never be the same.
A word, once spoken, can be a life-enhancing tool,
But also a destructive weapon in the mouth of a fool.
So weigh your words carefully, release them with thought,
For words that are let go – can never be caught.
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Nearly half a million of them fought in Red Army uniforms, under communist slogans but with a personal vengeance that was solely the result of Jewish experience. More than the “Greatest Generation,” they were the living superheroes hidden in plain sight.

It’s all over.
The orchestra is still, the lights are dimmed. Your simcha outfits hang in your closet, silent witnesses to a time you will treasure in your mind and heart forever.

Scene One:
After noticing that you can’t log into your computer, your pulse quickens as you are called into your supervisor’s office. S/he has some bad news. You are being laid off. You have 15 minutes to clean out your desk and surrender your cell phone before security escorts you out of the building. Job termination, especially in the corporate world, can be heartless.

I have always had a problem with the Omer. Doing the mitzvah of counting the Omer was of course pretty easy. Remembering to start the second evening of Passover and remembering to stop the day before Shavous took a little concentration but somehow I always managed. No, for me the nagging problem was always why was I doing this in the first place, other than the fact it was a biblical (according to the Rambam) commandment.
With the semi-mourning period of Sefira behind us, and the festival of Shavuot as well (as evidenced by the tightness of our clothing due to over-indulging in irresistible versions of cheesecake that is an integral component of celebrating our receipt of the Torah), our community can look forward to participating in joyous engagement parties and weddings.
Dear Dr. Yael:
Do you really believe that the Internet is the reason why the divorce rate is so high among young couples? This may be so in some cases, but what about the fact that many singles are pressured to get married at a young age despite not having any idea what they are looking for in a mate? And add to that the fact that many are pressured to make a decision about marriage after dating for a very short period of time.
From the moment they stand under the chuppah, newlyweds have two years to enjoy the special bliss that new love brings. This new finding, reported by the New York Times, is based on a study undertaken by American and European researchers. 1,761 people who got married and stayed married over 15 years were followed. The research shows that after two years the couples moved into a more companionable state in their relationships.
Shel Silverstein’s 1974 poem “Where The Sidewalk Ends” is intended to paint a magical picture of a world of peace and serenity far away from the “black and dark streets.” At the time, perhaps the end of the sidewalk was a place that was “measured and slow.” Today, however, for many parents, where the sidewalk ends can feel like a scary place.
The next chapter of the award-winning novel.
Florida is famous for sparkling water. We have the beautiful Atlantic Ocean and Gulf of Mexico surrounding our coast. We have bays, lakes, canals and, of course, an incredible abundance of swimming pools in homes, resorts, apartment complexes and city parks.
The buzz is back as Camp Gan Israel Florida Overnight gears up for another fantastic summer, CGI Florida style. What makes CGI Florida so different from all the other overnight camps? It’s all in the details.
Leah Katz, a TeenZone camper at Oorah’s TheZone summer camp and an 11th grader at Midwood High School, read her winning essay about how TheZone changed her views on Judaism at the Jewish Heritage Awards Ceremony held at Brooklyn District Attorney Charles Hynes’s office in April. The purpose of the Jewish Heritage Essay Contest is to acquaint public school students with Jewish history and customs and to help foster a deeper understanding of Jewish culture. The contest is open to students of all ethnic and religious backgrounds. Leah’s essay is reproduced in full below.
Moshe Sharett, the head of the Jewish Agency’s Political Department, visited Egypt in 1945. In Cairo he met a most remarkable young woman, a beautiful journalist who was the darling of Egyptian high society – from high-ranking military brass, to culture icons and Muslim sheikhs, to the court of King Faruk.
The two proceeded to talk about everyday things and surprisingly her mother-in-law did not find anything else to criticize. This occurred a few more times, with my client changing the topic every time by complimenting her mother-in-law or mentioning something positive about her.

One of the subjects I was taught as a young child in school was Tefillah. Since we spoke only Ivrit during our Limudei Kodesh and secular Hebrew studies – literature, creative writing and Jewish history – we pretty much understood the words we were davening.

Shortly before Pesach, I received a rather agitated call from a long time reader of The Jewish Press who pleaded with me to write a column regarding what she insisted was the unwarranted high cost of Pesach food – in particular shmurah matzah – and how hard it was for young families to pay what she felt were over-inflated prices in order to keep strictly kosher.
The price of deliberate obliviousness is very high – emotionally, physically, socially, and financially.
How is it possible that a person of seemingly normal intelligence (nowhere does it say he is simple) not have the ability to ask a question – to not react and enquire as to the why of the hustle and bustle around him?
It was one of those cold, rain-soaked evenings – the kind that make you look forward to a hot drink, a good book and a soft couch to curl up on. With those happy thoughts in mind, I proceeded to cross to the other side of the street.
The other day I was shopping at a large supermarket and happened to go down the frozen foods aisle, past the endless freezers containing every imaginable flavor, shape and size of ice cream. I rarely buy. Rather I am like a tourist in a museum – gawking at wondrous objects that I know I can’t take home with me.
He stood his ground despite the intense pressure to do what everyone else was doing. His integrity was more important to him than “fitting in.”
There is a wise Yiddish saying that translates into this observation: “Yichus (illustrious ancestors) is like potatoes – they are both under the ground.”
Printed from: http://www.jewishpress.com/sections/magazine/painful-words-a-painful-reality/2008/07/23/
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