Are you looking for emotional first aid for your marriage? If you are, you’re not alone. Today, engaged couples, newlyweds and couples who have been married for years are feeling insecure about their relationships and looking for advice on how to make their marriages work better or simply to heal their relationship wounds.

It’s no surprise that people are feeling unsure about the state of marriage in America. Take the latest studies on divorce. A 1999 study called The Effects of Divorce In America showed a significant increase in divorce over the last seven decades. The report found that:

“In 1935, there were 16 divorces for each 100 marriages. By 1998, the number had risen to 51 divorces per 100 marriages.” In addition, “over a twenty year period the number of divorced Americans rose from 4.3 million in 1970 to 18.3 million in 1996.”

The statistics speak for themselves: relationships in America are in trouble and, as a society we are experiencing more divorce and dysfunction than ever before.

The good news is that I believe that most marriages can work. Often, all they need is a little guidance and direction, and when necessary, a bit of first aid.

It is true that the Torah community does not share these same statistics; our marriages tend to last longer and the viability of Jewish marriage is one of the great examples of the power and the wisdom of the Torah. However, over the last few years, we are beginning to see a new trend. Not a month will pass by when we don’t hear about a young couple getting divorced. The fact is, thirty years ago, “divorce” was an almost unspoken word in the Torah community. Today, divorce is becoming more common and we may be viewing the beginning of a new and dangerous trend. As a case in point, a colleague of mine recently mentioned to me that he stopped giving engagement gifts and preferred to wait until the couple took the final steps to the chuppah! These are signs that relationships are becoming harder to solidify and more difficult to maintain.

In today’s turbulent times, the entire notion of relationships is at risk, and the current tidal wave of divorce is causing a significant amount of anxiety. Worse, as skepticism about relationships grows, couples are becoming wary of promises that, “things will just work out” and “love will conquer all.” Many are willing to try just about anything to know for certain whether their marriage will succeed. In fact, some are so desperate for iron-clad assurances about their relationships, that they are willing to spend hours searching online for articles on marriage, participating in forums, and even taking illusive five minutes quizzes that promise to see if they have found their “true love.”

Here’s an ad I saw for one such dubious website: “Doubting if the person you are with is a right one for you? These tests and quizzes will help you to disclose his or her true essence.”

And that was just one site. There are so many others online that promise answers about romantic compatibility, how to know if you have found your soul mates, how much you have in common, and whether your love will last forever. It’s easy to get sucked into the appealing veneer of these quick and easy answers that aren’t based on fact or sound judgment.

Take Yossi, 25, and Deborah, 22, a young couple that came to talk with me about their fears of marriage and their inability to build a meaningful relationship. When they first walked into my office I was struck by how well they appeared – at least on the outside. They were in the prime of their lives, well dressed, soft spoken and well educated. Yossi was a systems analyst for a software company, and Deborah was a graduate student who had just started her first year in a master’s degree program in psychology.

Yossi, it turned out, was having difficulty deciding to get married. Deborah was scared that Yossi couldn’t make up his mind and that he was unable to commit to a stable relationship.

Yossi had other concerns about marrying Deborah. He was uneasy about the negative vibes he was receiving from what he described as Deborah’s “well-to-do” family. He was sensing that they would be unwilling to support them while Deborah was still in graduate school, and he was worried that he couldn’t carry the financial burden alone.

It was impossible to tell which thought gave Tevye more happiness. The thought of stepping foot in Jerusalem, or the thought of seeing his Hodel again. True, Hodel was his own flesh and blood. She was like a little piece of his Golda. Hadn’t he listened to his wife’s painful groans through eight excruciating hours of childbirth? Hadn’t he cradled the girl in his arms when nightmares disturbed her sleep? With pride and with great fatherly joy, he had watched her grow from a tot into a woman. And how empty and heartbroken he had felt when she rode off on a train to follow her Perchik into exile. But Jerusalem – Jerusalem was more than a child. Jerusalem was more than a man’s family. Jerusalem was a dream. It was more than a dream. Who ever thought that the dream of Jerusalem could ever come true?

How could it be, you ask? How could it be that a city which Tevye had never seen could occupy such a powerful place in his heart? For a Jew, the answer was simple. For two-thousand years, three times a day, Jews prayed to return to their city. After every meal, after every piece of bread, and every piece of cake, they prayed for Jerusalem’s welfare. No matter where a Jew lived, the city of Jerusalem was to be the center of his life. It was the place where the Pascal lamb was to be eaten on the Passover holiday, and where first fruits were brought on Shavuos. There, by the pool of Shiloach, joyous water celebrations were held on Sukkos. It was the site of the ancient Temple, the Beis HaMikdash, may it soon be rebuilt. It was the place where the Sanhedrin declared the new months, and where the High Priest atoned for the nation on Yom Kippur. There, the miracle of Hanukah had occurred when the Maccabees had won their great victory over the Greeks. For Jews all over the world, each day started with the hope – perhaps this was the day that God would rescue them from their exile in foreign lands and bring them back to Jerusalem.

But the dream of his father, and his grandfather, and his great-grandfather before them, and all of his grandfathers all the way back to Abraham wasn’t to come true for the moment. They only had use of the JCA wagon for a week, so the ascent up the mountains leading to Jerusalem would have to be postponed so that they could make the three-day journey up north to the kibbutz where Hodel was living.

With tears in her eyes, Ruchel kissed her sister Tzeitl goodbye. Tzeitl seemed so frail and so thin, Ruchel feared that she might never see her big sister again, God forbid. For weeks now, Tzeitl hardly touched any food, and the weight she lost had hollowed her cheeks. Her cough clung to her like a menacing shadow, and her always hopeful smile seemed more to comfort others, so as not to cause her family anguish. The sisters hugged without looking too deeply into each other’s eyes. Ruchel kissed Hava, Bat Sheva, and gave the children big squeezes. Then she turned toward her father. The time had come to return to Rishon so that Nachman could assume his new position as melamed, teaching in the Talmud Torah. Tevye wore a big happy grin. If he had done one good thing in his life, it was bringing Ruchel to the chuppah to marry Nachman. Not that the match had been so much his doing, but it showed that he had succeeded in educating his daughter along the right path. Married to Nachman, she would always live a life of tradition. So even if they were setting off on their own for Rishon LeZion, away from the rest of the family, Tevye felt happy and confident that he was entrusting his girl to a God-fearing man who loved her with all of his heart.

“Remember, Abba,” she called from the wagon, using the Hebrew expression for father. “Tell Hodel and Perchik that we are expecting them to come visit us soon.”

Though Shmuelik and Hillel wanted to accompany their childhood friend, Nachman, he advised them to wait until he could arrange permission for them to join the already established yishuv. Though he was skeptical about his chances of persuading Dupont, he felt the resourceful Aharon might be able to help. In the meantime, they agreed to travel with Tevye. The decision required no forceful persuasion – both of them nurtured a secret attraction for Bat Sheva, Tevye’s fiery, plum-cheeked daughter. Though she hardly glanced at them, each had high hopes.

Dear Readers

The grass is always greener on the other side. Or is it?

Below is a fictional illustration of this human foible – focusing on the perceived benefits in another person’s life while failing to appreciate your own.

A Tale Of Two Friends

Suri looked at the full-length, wall-to-wall mirror that some thoughtful contractor -who must have had daughters – had installed in the ladies’ room of the wedding hall. It was quite insightful of him to have done that, as if he knew all too well that the friends and close relatives of the chossan and kallah who were marching down to the chuppah needed a full head to toe view of them-self before they were put on public display.

Especially the single girls – who needed to make the best possible impressions on the ladies among the assembled guests who dabbled in shidduchum, or who had eligible sons in the parsha. And if you were an “older” single of 25 like she was – and your 20-year-old sister was the kallah, – it was extremely crucial that you look your best.

Most importantly, the smile you affixed on your face had to look genuine, not plastered on, and had to radiate confidence and joy.

In other words, Suri had to make sure that the sadness and sense of failure that permeated her inner core did not show. She had to look cheerful and gracious when the inevitable onslaught of “im yirtzeh Hashem by you” and “maybe you are too picky” comments, would assail her. By looking proud and assured, perhaps the pitying looks would not accompany these well-meaning, but nonetheless painful remarks.

Squaring her shoulders and holding her head high, Suri walked out of the room with a smile on her face that would have have made any actress proud.

Several hours later, a very tired and emotionally drained Suri gratefully entered her room, threw off her sweat-stained gown and collapsed in her bed. She had managed to keep her composure despite the fact that she silently “heard” the word nebach attached to every mazal tov she was greeted with.

The wedding of course, had been beautiful, her sister dazzling and her mother had been radiant with relief – one less single daughter to worry about.

Some of the guests, her mother had confided on the way home, had approached her with suggestions, and hopefully, a few would actually follow through on them. Suri had told her not to get too excited; that they were probably men whom people expected her to be grateful for the opportunity to date.

After hitting 24, well-meaning but clueless people, had tried to set her up with men who were totally inappropriate for her – the widely held belief in the community being that anything was better than nothing. Divorced men with kids who were in high school when she was born, and men with obvious physical and emotional challenges were being redt to her. And she was chastised as being “picky”!

Too wound up to sleep, Suri let her mind wander. She enviously thought of her best friend Miriam. Everything seemed to have fallen in her lap. She had been introduced to her future husband during her seminary year when both were Shabbat guests of the rav and rebbetzin who were their respective teachers.

Without out the slightest effort, Miriam had found her zivug and shortly after returning home, had gotten engaged. She was barely 19 when she married and 20 when she gave birth to her bochur Avi, who was joined in quick succession by a sister and brother. Suri loved her best friend and was truly happy that marriage and motherhood had come to her so effortlessly. Go figure, she had even had mazal with the genders of her kids – a boy and a girl back to back – and she was expecting again. Suri thought of her father’s cousin who had just had her fourth girl and the sliver of disappointment that her husband must have felt – as much as he embraced this new bracha in his family.

Miriam had never had to experience the horrible pressure and relentless stress that she herself was under. From being tastefully dressed, made up and coiffed every time she stepped out of the house – even just to mail a letter, “in case someone sees you,” her mother would admonish. Then there were the hours in front of the mirror spent getting ready for a date, knowing that all that effort would be a waste of time, trapped into making and listening to small talk ad nauseum because, though from the start she knew the guy wasn’t shaich, “you never know – sometimes when you meet it just clicks.”

צאנז 111 from bhol on Vimeo.

Not being a Chasid of his (or Chasid of any kind) I don’t really know much about the Munkatcher Rebbe. But if he is like most other Chasidic Rebbes, he will have a huge blowout of a wedding next Monday for his grandson – similar to the one in the above video for the Sanzer Rebbe. The size of those crowds are comparable to those of Presidential inaugurations. Crowds numbering 10,000 people are not uncommon. An article in Matzav.com adds:

The chuppah will take place on the promenade in front of the shul on an especially erected elevated chuppah to ensure that all participants can see and hear all that transpires.

Following the chuppah, special buses will ferry the throngs of chasidim to the cavernous Palace Ballrooms on McDonald Avenue where the celebration will continue. During the meal, thousands of chasidim and well-wishers will have the opportunity to personally wish mazal tov to the Rebbe and mechutanim.

Whenever I see one of these events, I am reminded on the so called “Wedding Takanos”. These were guidelines established by members of the Agudah Moetzes (but not officially by the Moetzes themselves if I understand correctly) in order to combat a phenomenon where tons of money and resources are spent on lavish affairs.  They include*:

The Wedding:Typical families may only seat up to 400 invited guests at the seudah. The kabbolat panim smorgasbord should be limited to basic cakes, fruit platters, a modest buggest (sic), and the caterer’s standard chicken or meat hot dishes. The seuda menu is limited to three coures (sic) plus a regular dessert.

No Viennese table. No bar.

The Music:A band should consist of a maximum of 5 musicians or four plus vocalist. Recommended: a one man band.

Flowers and Chupa Decor: Total cost should not exceed $1,800. It is one thing when wealthy people have a lavish wedding. But the “Keeping up with the Cohens and Katzes” factor has caused some people who cannot afford it to do the same thing. They borrow money –sometimes putting second mortgages on their homes just to have that lavish wedding for their own children. And ‘prove to the world’ how successful they are. All that debt for keeping up an image – and one day of fun!

Contrast this with the tuition crisis. The parents who go into huge debt to make lavish weddings for their children are the same parents who ask for – and receive scholarships based on their actual income.

I need not go into the details of how unfair that is to schools whose huge budgets go mostly to pay teachers. Teachers that deserve to be paid a lot more than they actually are paid. These budgets require huge tuition bills which are more or less based on a cost per child basis to the school. A typical Orthodox family with four children will generate a tuition bill of at least $40,000 per year and a lot more in many schools.

Most people do not earn enough to pay that kind of after-tax money and require scholarship assistance. Thus placing a burden on the school to raise enough the difference between what parents pay and what they should pay. In many cases fundraising goals are not, putting schools in to debt. Year after year of accumulating debt in order to just meet the payroll obligations to their underpaid teachers.

One can easily see the absurdity and gross unfairness of parents borrowing money way over their heads to pay for a lavish wedding (just to keep up with the Katzes) who have in the past asked for and gotten scholarship assistance.

Although these wedding Takanos are well intentioned, I’m not sure they have been all that effective. Which means that there are still people borrowing money for weddings they can’t really afford.

As an aside I have never been a fan of these Takanos because I believe that wealthy people have a right to spend their money as they choose provided they meet all their financial obligations. And the wealthy people I know do meet their obligations and a lot more. The problem is with those who are not wealthy but for some reason feel the need to project that image. If a Takana could be made so that the wealthy would not be affected, I might support it. But Takanos don’t work that way.

For my upcoming birthday, instead of waiting for my friends or my husband to make me a “surprise” party, I decided to throw one myself. I settled on a cozy and intimate evening, celebrating my birthday with professional cake decorating and fruity cocktails with my nearest and dearest. But as with every gathering I plan, things started to get out of control. At first, I just planned on inviting my sisters, my sister-in-law and a couple of friends. But how could I leave out friends I haven’t seen for a while, neighbors whom I chat with daily, and co-workers whom I spend more time with then my own husband and children? The guest list was trembling at over forty invites and my expense budget was beyond what I normally spend on a three-day yom tov. It was time for some quality-control.

First, I narrowed in on what I really wanted for my birthday, which was to celebrate the day in a meaningful fashion. I had recently finished reading the beautiful biography of Rebbetzin Kanievsky. Hafrashat challah was very important to Rebbetzin Kanievsky and she was particular to do the mitzvah not just every week, but even every day, when she would go down to a nearby bakery and take challah from there. On Thursday, she would host groups of women who would answer amein to her brocha. I was inspired to follow her example, but the few times I made challah, no one would eat it.

Thankfully, a good friend of mine, Soshie, is a culinary graduate of the Arts Institute of New York, and breads have always been her thing. Although she now works as a physician’s assistant, she was willing to give a demonstration on the proper way to make challah and how to flavor the dough with herbs, cinnamon and sugar, onions, roasted tomatoes or garlic, etc. Afterwards, we could all make the brocha together.

The decision to do specialty challot cut out the need to hire a professional cake decorator, and eliminated the need to provide a spread of food and buy chic paper goods. After all, if everyone’s hands are busy kneading dough, they can’t quite sit down and sample different salads and hoers devours. Instead, I served iced decaf coffee and tea, and just a few platters of candies and cookies.

There was this great idea in Real Simple magazine by Michelle Slatalla to reduce an overloaded guest list. You take the list of people and divide them into categories, i.e. neighbors, co-workers, friends, children’s friends, etc. If you want to invite one person from a category, everyone gets invited. To minimize hurt feelings, consider where the categories overlap, like in a Venn diagram. The concept was brilliant, but unfortunately for me, all my categories overlapped. I couldn’t figure out how to cut any group out, so instead I set the party at a time that would be most convenient for me and Soshie, but not necessarily for others. This way, I figured girls would come only if they really wanted too.

One week before the party, I made the cookies and froze them. Three days before, I went shopping. Two days before, I made sure there were sufficient clean chairs and tables in the house and confirmed the RSVPs. The day before, I cleaned the house. That afternoon, knowing my kids will never stay upstairs in their beds while there’s a party going on, I had them bathed and dressed them in their cutest pajamas and then I let them help me prepare the drinks and platters and set the table.

The party was called for seven and my guests began to arrive at 7:30. Being that it was quite a diverse group of women the challah demonstration was a great icebreaker. The demonstration was superbly done and sorely needed. Apparently, I’m not the only woman who wasn’t endowed with the gift of baking underneath the chuppah. Who knew that the need to proof yeast is only for dry yeast that may have expired and by using fresh yeast, you can save yourself ten minutes or so. It was fascinating to watch Soshie swirl the mixture with one hand as she added the wet ingredients followed by the dry. She poured, without measuring, about two thirds of the recommended amount of flour, and then let the dough rest and form together. I used those ten minutes to speak about the spiritual and unifying factors of making dough and then gave the stage back to Soshie. She continued to add flour until the dough was solid, but still slightly wet and sticky. “Know your dough,” Soshie admonished us, and indeed we were becoming quite familiar with it.

With the Three Weeks and its social restrictions as they pertain to simchas behind us, heimishe Yidden everywhere are “dusting off” their party clothes, taking their jewelry out of the safe and getting ready to attend a multitude of weddings – with some people invited out on an almost daily basis.

While all weddings are beautiful – some are more “beautiful” than others, with no expense spared by the chosson and kallah’s proud parents, to provide a magnificent send off for their children as they begin their new life together.

Which is a great thing – may we all know from simchas – but a reality that can also be problematic. For after attending lovely, opulent weddings over the years, I have come to the conclusion that for both host and guest, extravagant weddings, like cigarettes, are quite enjoyable (so they insist) but are bad for you – physically and financially.

Many of the young men getting married intend to spend several years learning, or are in college/graduate school. This means that someone will have to provide the funds to pay the bills. Since the couple will likely have a family sooner than later, and the wife will work part time – or full time and have a chunk of her salary go to pay for childcare -the burden of support often falls on one or both sets of in-laws.

Supporting the young couple, often in the style they are accustomed to, means that their parents, even if they are relatively “comfortable,” have an additional financial obligation that is not fiscally or physically healthy. Don’t forget, these middle-aged mothers and fathers (aging baby-boomers) are likely paying several yeshiva/seminary tuitions, as well as dealing with the extra daily expenses of living an Orthodox lifestyle.

Therefore the question begs to be asked – wouldn’t it be more sensible to make a less lavish, less expensive simcha, and use the money saved to pay a year’s rent for the new couple? Since there are so many expenditures in setting up the young couple’s household, why not minimize the pressure on the ones paying the bills?

For those who are very wealthy and “money is no object” and can afford to make a big splash for their kids, wouldn’t it be a mitzvah (in the merit of a happy life for their children) if the parents made a less lavish simcha and instead donate the money to a hachnasat kallah organization, so that those in real need can have a wedding they can remember with pride?

So, how does one cut down on one’s wedding expense, yet make a simcha the guests will still thoroughly enjoy?

Since food is arguably the biggest expense, (kosher food seems to be getting more and more costly, especially when the simcha is out of the New York metropolitan area), why not just serve less food? So much of it is wasted anyhow.

I suggest the baal simcha provide either a smorgasboard before the chuppah, with several hot and cold choices, or a dinner after the chuppah – but not both. Most guests eat to their fill at the smorg, which often contains fish, chicken and beef dishes, as well as pasta, vegetable and fruit salads. There is no need, a mere hour or so later, to provide a multi-course dinner, followed by a mouth-watering, calorie-laden Viennese table, resplendent with cakes, pastries, nuts, candy etc.

Instead, after the chuppah, a small dessert table should suffice, perhaps with some light salads, allowing the guests to wander around and socialize (as opposed to being seated and meeting only the guests at the table). That would allow for more dancing, which could last an hour or two after the young couple makes their appearance. No doubt the emotionally exhausted chassan and kallah would appreciate being left alone a bit sooner than later, especially with a full week of sheva brachot ahead of them.

At any rate, since most of the guests have gorged themselves at the smorgasboard, much of the food offered at the dinner is barely eaten. Just how much can a person consume? While some leftover food can be given to food pantries, much is thrown out. A piece of beef that obviously was partially eaten by a guest who wanted to taste the lovely piece of meat on his plate but was too full – from fressing at the smorg – to actually eat it, ends up in the garbage. A sad, unnecessary waste of food and money.

Parents know each child is different. Similarly, each month is different; each has a different “personality” and a different function.

What is the nature of the month of Elul?

According to one system of counting, it is the last month of the year. If our fate during the coming year is decided between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, then Elul must be very important.

How do we try to ensure that the coming year will be good?

This is our job during Elul.

Elul has been described by the acronym Ani l’dodi v’dodi li – I am my Beloved’s and my Beloved is mine” (Shir HaShirim 6:3).

Isn’t it strange to think of Elul in this way? We are coming before our Father and King for judgment. We crown Hashem “Melech” on Rosh Hashanah. How, then, can we describe our relationship with the Supreme Judge, who holds our fate in His hands, in such romantic terms? Does this make sense?

Imagine you are on trial for your life. You are trembling in the courtroom. Armed guards are watching you. The prosecutor is about to list your crimes. At that moment, would you tell the judge how much you love him? You would be crazy!

Or maybe not.

The way we put on tefillin offers a parable for life. First we put on the shel yad, which is tied around the upper arm opposite the heart. Then we place the shel rosh upon our head and, lastly, we wrap the retzuah (leather strap) around our hand. What does this teach us? That the heart is primary.

We begin the day by adjusting our emotional orientation. When we place the shel yad upon our arm, our heart is bombarded with holy “radiation” from the tefillin. If our heart is good, we will be good. So we send healing into the heart in order to bring it under the influence of Torah. Following the heart, we place the tefillin upon our head, and then we wrap the retzuah around the hand.

But the heart is primary. As the Gemara says, “Hashem wants the heart” (Sanhedrin 106b). If a person is “happy with his lot” and full of chesed, all else will follow. The heart must be good; then comes the brain. We take our good, generous emotions and the brain conceives of ways to implement them. The last step is action itself, symbolized by the retzuah.

We have to work on our heart. The cause of our Exile was sinas chinam, unwarranted hatred between Jew and Jew. The cure is ahavas chinam, “unwarranted” love. “Sinah” and “ahavah” are emotions, which emanate from the heart. The heart must be cured and trained.

The way we prepare for life by regulating our emotions, so we prepare for our encounter with God. Elul thus becomes the month in which “ani l’dodi v’dodi li.”

We also need an ayin tovah – a good eye.

The Mishnah (Avos 5:22) teaches: “Those who have a good eye, a humble spirit and a meek soul are among the disciples of our Father Avraham. Those who have an evil eye, an arrogant spirit and a greedy soul are among the disciples of the wicked Bilaam.” Rabbi Yissocher Frand asks, “What does ‘ayin tovah’ really mean? It means a generosity of spirit and a generosity of dealing with people.”

* * * * *

On Yom Kippur the kohen gadol enters the Kodesh HaKadoshim. What does he find? Atop the Aron HaKodesh are the kruvim, facing each other. These two figures, male and female, represent a loving couple. When Hashem created the world, he populated Gan Eden with Adam and Chava, who represent the culmination of creation. That they rebelled against Him represents their own weakness, but quite clearly they were created with the ability to live in perfect harmony in the presence of Hashem. If a man and woman live together the way Hashem commands, their relationship is the building block of His world.

But there is more.

The Gemara tells us that the kruvim represent the relationship between Am Yisrael and God. “Rabbi Katina said: When the Jewish people made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem on the festivals, the priests would roll up the partition of the Holy of Holies and show them the kruvim in amorous embrace. ‘Look,’ they would say to the people, ‘God’s love for you is like the love between a man and woman’ ” (Yoma 54b).

“Didn’t I tell you that everything God does works out for the best?” Tevye said to Nachman as everyone gathered excitedly around the coffin on the beach. “If the Turks had let us disembark in Jaffa, I would never have seen my Golda wash up on shore.”

It didn’t matter that, in fact, Nachman had been the one who had reminded a crestfallen Tevye that God’s loving, invisible hand never stops guiding life’s twists and turns. If Tevye, in a moment of despair, had forgotten this teaching of the Talmud, God would certainly forgive him. Now, with Golda once again at his side, Tevye’s faith was stronger than ever.

But Tevye’s reunion with Golda was not the only miracle which had transpired. Since stepping foot in the Land of Israel, Tevye had imperceptibly changed. He couldn’t say why. He couldn’t explain the sensation, but somehow, his mind, his soul, and his heart underwent a rejuvenation, as if the clock of his life had turned backwards, making him feel twenty years younger. Yes, he felt more confident now that his beloved Golda was back at his side. Yes, he felt comforted that the Almighty had returned her to him. But even more than these blessings, the realization that he had reached the Land of Israel overwhelmed all of his thoughts. The prayers, the prophecies, the dreams, the yearnings of two-thousand years, all had come true. Wasn’t it written in the Book of Psalms, “When God will return the exiles of Zion, we will be like those who dream. Then our mouth will be filled with laughter and our tongue with glad song?”

Tevye the milkman, the son of Reb Schneur Zalman, was in Israel! He was in the Land which God had promised to give to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob. It was the Land of Joshua and the prophet Samuel. The Land of King David and his son, Solomon, the wisest of men. It was the home of the Jerusalem Temple, of the Maccabees, and Rabbi Akiva. While Tevye’s faith in the Biblical stories which his father had taught him had always been steadfast, now he was standing on the very soil where Jewish history had unfolded in all of its glory and pain. Suddenly, the ancient stories had a down-to-earth setting. Suddenly, the Land of Israel was real, not just a faraway dream. It was like hearing about a famous person, and then suddenly meeting him, like when Tevye had met the great writer, Sholom Aleichem. What a thrill!

Nachman experienced the same indescribable sensation. Feeling the secret power of the Land surge into his body, he burst into song. Everyone had the same feeling. Everyone sang. They were in the Land of Israel! They were home!

Their singing gave way to exhaustion. It was time to learn their next lesson. Life in the Land of Israel, like its sand dunes, had its ups and its downs. Everyone was astounded at the landscape as they started the trek north back toward Jaffa. Dunes and desert stretched around them as far as the eye could see. Occasionally, they had to make a long detour around a foul-smelling swamp. The land was barren and desolate, as if still suffering from the Divine curse which had fallen upon the soil since the Jews had been exiled from their home. Gone were the lush gardens, the fruit trees, the fertile green valleys, and overflowing rivers of Biblical days. If there had once been milk and honey in the Land, the ferocious sun had long ago turned them to sand. Miles passed without the sight of a single tree or bush. Beside their motley-looking caravan, there was no sign of human life. Eyes searched the horizon for Jaffa, but all they could see was an ocean of heat waves rising off a desert wilderness.

Before long, their enthusiasm started to wane. It was as if they had returned three-thousand years through history to their ancestors’ wanderings through Sinai. Their footsteps became heavier. The fierce sun beat down on their heads. More and more frequently, the men had to set down Golda’s coffin and rest. Tzeitl fainted. Once again, Tevye had to carry her in his arms. Within an hour, their supply of fresh water was finished. Children cried. Grown-ups collapsed in the sand. Complaints could be heard in every corner of the camp.