Home Tags Baby
In the beginning of this week’s parshah the Torah says that Yosef brought bad reports about his brothers to their father, Yaakov. Rashi explains that in these reports Yosef stated that his brothers would eat eiver min hachai (a limb from a live animal), degrade the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah by referring to them as slaves, and that they were suspect of transgressing with arayos (immoral relations).
I visited the cemetery with my friend during Aseret Yemei Teshuvah. After visiting my grandfather, z”l, we visited my friend’s husband’s family. As we were wending our way among the graves and discussing names, she pointed out that her newest granddaughter is named after her husband’s mother, a”h. Then she told me two stories about her family.
The newborn son of a New Jersey couple who named their eldest child “Adolf Hitler” was taken into custody Thursday night, when the doctor who delivered the baby called local authorities.
It was an exceptionally hot and humid day in Toronto. I was driving the car with my bubbie sitting next to me, and baby Shmueli in the back. I suddenly remembered that I needed a small item at the local supermarket. I gently asked my bubbie if she would stay in the car with the baby while I ran into the store. My bubbie warmly replied, "Go, my shefele [sweetheart]."
Another Shabbat Nachamu has come and gone, but its message should resonate with us throughout the year. More than just an opportunity to go away for the weekend or enjoy a live concert on Saturday night, Shabbat Nachamu means that regardless of what tragedy has befallen our people, the Jewish nation will live on.
The article last week in The New York Times concerning the explosion of anorexia and eating disorders in the Orthodox community highlights a tragedy that has long been buried.
This 381-page paperback belongs in Jewish homes and libraries. It would make a nice textbook for classrooms, too. Rabbi Jonathan Shooter's skill at interpreting archaic language, then presenting it in contemporary parlance, is a gift from Heaven.
For the past 10 years, I have been privileged to be part of a women's Tehillim group in Jerusalem. Every Shabbat, we meet and divide Sefer Tehillim (the Book of Psalms). We pray for the safety of our soldiers, for Eretz Yisrael, and for those injured in terrorist attacks. We also bring our individual lists of people in need of Divine assistance. We pray for women waiting to become mothers, for singles waiting to meet their spouses, for sick people waiting for good health, and for soldiers waiting to come home.
During the 1920s, a polio epidemic swept across the United Sates. My uncle, then a baby, was one of its victims. As a child, I heard the story of his recovery many times from my mother, his sister. At the time she was about 10 years old, and witnessed the miracle firsthand.
As I was sitting at the computer writing about my dream baby, I suddenly wondered, "Where is she? She is too quiet." So I turned around to see what she was doing. I had left her sitting behind me with toys to keep her busy, and she had been playing nicely. As she was no longer there I went to look for her, and found her happily sitting on the bathroom floor, surrounded by a pile of ripped tissues. Okay, back to my story. Now you might wonder who "they" are. It's those folks who come up to me and say that my baby's feet are cold without socks; her head is baking in the sun without a hat; she's too hot with that blanket over her. Oh, the joys of living in Israel, where we are all family.
It goes without saying that the process of getting set up on marriage-oriented dates, going out several times and eventually making the decision that "this is the one" is emotionally and even physically taxing. However, as hard as getting to the chuppah may be - being happily and successfully married is even more difficult and challenging. Two diverse individuals with distinctive mindsets, shaped by their unique experiences from the minute they were born, must suddenly mesh their way of looking at things and their way of reacting to them.
My daughter, Slovie Jungreis Wolff, author of, Raising a Child With Soul, conducts our Hineni parenting classes. A very painful situation befell one of the young couples that attend her seminars. Like a bolt out of the blue, their five-year-old little girl was struck by devastating illness - a brain tumor. Lily (Leah Chana), an adorable precious child, fought bravely throughout endless tests, procedures, and treatments. My daughter visited her and was awed by her faith and courage. Her story impacted on the entire class, and everyone committed to more mitzvos, prayer and tzedakah on her behalf.
From time-to-time, I share my personal semachos with my extended family, you, my dear readers of The Jewish Press. So it is my zechus (privilege) to publish, in this column, an article that my daughter, Slovie Jungreis Wolff (Hineni lecturer and author of Raising a Child With Soul) wrote for Aish.com, on the occasion of the Bat Mitzvah of her daughter Aliza.