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September 21, 2014 / 26 Elul, 5774
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Posts Tagged ‘Hakadosh Baruch Hu’

Thoughts On Hurricane Sandy

Friday, November 23rd, 2012

The following is a revised version of the speech Rabbi Rackovsky gave in his shul on November 10, Shabbos Parshas Chayei Sarah

Usually, when I begin a speech, I start with something interesting, lighthearted or funny – to get your attention and lead into the speech itself. Permit me to deviate from that this week, because there is nothing funny, lighthearted or interesting about what so many of us are experiencing, and if not us, than our friends, loved ones and neighbors, and if not them, than people a few miles away from us in Long Beach or Far Rockaway who have lost everything to 14 foot waves, or a little farther away where helpless Senior Citizens are living without water or power in high rises on the Lower East Side. The scope of the utter devastation, the loss of so much – property, money and memories – is too much to comprehend. So what is there to say when perhaps it is more appropriate to say nothing? I’ve been struggling with this for the past few days, so permit me to share some of what I’ve been thinking of that may give us a framework. I hope my words will be accepted, and apologize in advance if they are somehow simplistic, insensitive or inappropriate.

This morning, we read the incident of the Shunamite woman’s encounter with the remarkable prophet Elisha. On his way back from saving the family of the wife of one of the prophets, who was in danger of having her children taken into slavery by creditors, Elisha stopped in Shunam at the home of a self effacing woman who was so desirous of such an illustrious guest that she built an addition onto her home so he could rest there on a regular basis, and that is what he did.

On this particular trip, Elisha asked his assistant, Geichazi, to find out what this woman wanted. Geichazi perceived that she had no children so Elisha promised her that within a year, she would be hugging a child of her own. That is what happened. Then the Navi tells us that some time later, that child began to feel sick, and in his mother’s lap, he passed away. She lay him down and then sent for a young man and a donkey so that she could go to Elisha.

Her husband was surprised – after all, it was not a time that one would normally go to visit a prophet, but she said, “Good bye, I’m going.” The Haftorah ends with the child being resurrected by Elisha, but that is only in one tradition. If you look in your Chumash, there is another custom, that of Sephardim, Yekkies (German communities) and Chabad Chassidim. In their mesorah, they end the Haftorah reading when the Shunamite woman leaves to see Elisha.

I can understand the former custom, the one we adhere to here and in many other congregations. It brings the narrative to a satisfying resolution; a woman faced with the tragic loss of her only child is given that child back. But what is the meaning of the second custom? Why end there, right in the middle of the story?

My friend and colleague Rabbi Daniel Yolkut of Pittsburgh suggested that that is precisely the point of the pause. When we read biblical narratives, we know how they end. We know that Yitzchak, in the end is saved from the Akeidah, we know that Korach and his followers were all swallowed up by the earth, and we know that the Jewish people are saved from Haman. But we only know that because we have the benefit of hindsight, where we are privy to the entire narrative. But to really understand what the protagonists are feeling, we need to put ourselves in their place, and understand that to them, the narrative was far from over. The Shunamite woman was grasping at straws, and she had no idea how the story would end, whether Elisha would be able to help her at all during her darkest moments, but she turned to something and someone greater than her for help. It is in this unfinished ending, and where it leaves off, that we can learn some powerful lessons.

Parshat Toldot: The Power Of A Text

Thursday, November 15th, 2012

The theme of my column is leadership. As a general rule I avoid extrapolating leadership lessons from current events. The following is my reasoning. First, the information available from current events is often incomplete and inaccurate. Even when the information is relatively complete and accurate it is unanalyzed. Therefore the basis for lessons learned may prove to be faulty. Second, current events are often too current. To attempt to draw practical lessons in a dispassionate way would be insensitive. At least a minimal amount of time is needed to create the space necessary to allow for such an article. I have relied on the publication of books and scholarly articles on a particular recent event as an indicator that an appropriate amount of time has passed, thus allowing me to write a leadership article about it.

Like any good rule, however, there need to be exceptions. The all too recent hurricane that shattered an untold number of lives is such an exception. I thank Hakadosh Baruch Hu that my family was spared during this storm, but many of my colleagues, students, and friends suffered from its power and continue to suffer in its aftermath. From them I heard stories of hope and chesed that are unbelievable. I also learned from them a more nuanced definition of leadership.

We read in this week’s Parsha how important a bracha is. Even Esav, the rough and tough warrior and hunter, cries uncontrollably because he missed getting blessed by his father Yitzchak. It makes us stop and wonder what it was that made Esav so upset. It certainly was not his losing out on the spiritual aspect of the blessing. One also wonders if he was upset at losing out at the material aspect – after all, he received a material blessing from Yitzchak and it is clear that his descendants have done materialistically well for themselves.

So what was Esav upset about? That he lost out on the encouraging good words from his father. He missed out on the emotional laden blessing that could have served as Esav’s lodestar throughout his life. It could have served as a source of strength and hope when things were not so good, and a moral compass for when things were going well. Fortunately for us, the children of Yisrael, our forefather Yaakov received this blessing and we benefit from what the descendants of Esav missed out on.

Members of Lev Leytzan’s ElderHearts visited with residents of the Atria Riverdale Senior Community during Hurricane Sandy.

We see from here how important a simple string of words can be.

Leaders often focus on the big vision and the mega-decisions, but the primary role of leadership is to give hope and guidance to one’s followers and organizations. In this regard everyone who helps another person get through a day is a leader.

One of my friends who has suffered tremendously from the storm told me the following story.

On the Sunday following the storm, she was surveying the extensive damage to her house. She had just thrown out all her ruined sefarim, books, and furniture. Looking at her damaged home, wondering how long she and her family would remain nomads, how she was going to rebuild, and where she would find the moral energy to move forward, she became totally overwhelmed. Although she had been strong during and after the storm, she had finally reached her breaking point. Then suddenly out of the blue, at 1:20 p.m., she received a random text from a friend saying how inspired she was by her, because despite everything she was experiencing, her thoughts and prayers were about other people! This text, my friend told me, gave her and her husband the boost they needed. Her message to me was simple: while victims of the hurricane need lots of help in so many ways, people should not underestimate the power of a thoughtful word and a sympathetic ear, in addition to an outstretched helping hand.

‘I Want to Get Married Too!’

Monday, September 3rd, 2012

“Is it possible for my disabled child to get married?” This is a question that parents often ask. Their son or daughter may often convey the sentiment, “I also want to get married, just like my sister or my brother or my friend.”

It is painful for persons of disabilities to see others get married while they are left behind. At the same time, there are naturally, additional challenges in marriage amongst those with disabilities.

How can we navigate the best path?

Everyone needs hope. People with disabilities need to feel that it is possible for them to achieve and accomplish their life goals, up to and including enjoying the companionship of a relationship and marriage.

Considering how to help a child with disabilities prepare for marriage, there are many challenges that parents and adults face. Sometimes parents have difficulty learning to let go and allow their child to make their own decisions. Since they have been managing their child’s life for so long it is hard for parents to envision their child functioning without their assistance. Dealing with one crisis after another for many years, has accustomed them to constantly being on alert. It is understandable that it can be very difficult to view such a “child” differently. Often, someone from outside the family, such as a mentor or coach can see things more objectively. A dating mentor can make an assessment as to whether the child is capable of learning the socialization skills necessary to have a relationship and get married. A dating mentor can coach the individual in skills that are basic to having a strong foundation in a relationship, such as how to communicate, solve problems, compromise, show and give respect and how to have empathy.

Of course, there are serious concerns and obstacles. Many such couples will require ongoing supervision and support in order to maintain a stable relationship. Furthermore, while most marriages include an expectation of establishing a family, these couples in consultation with a posek and mental health professional may need to think along different lines. In the short and long term, there are no “one-size fits all” solutions.

Recently, David Mandel, CEO of OHEL Children’s Home and Family Services invited some of OHEL’s married couples for dinner to talk about how to help more individuals inside OHEL and in the larger community improve their chances for having meaningful relationships, and possibly getting married.

The couples had the opportunity to share what helped them get married and what helps them successfully remain married. Their case managers and resident managers were also present at the dinner.

Many shared how the support of their case managers has been helpful to them in addressing problems before they escalate, as well as their assistance with being connected to appropriate resources, such as marital counseling in order to deal with the typical and not so typical stresses of married life.

Some participants shared their joys and struggles, making the listeners laugh and cry with them. One couple invites friends every Shabbos in order to increase their chances for finding someone to befriend. Stigma is still an issue many struggle with, especially when trying to find a shadchan to set them up. Their experiences have been that many shadchanim are unfortunately very dismissive of individuals who seek to marry and who are effectively managing their mental illness – an understandable disposition that requires much more community education. One person offered to be a shadchan in order to fill that void. Another suggested joining online websites and having a special section for individuals with psychiatric diagnoses. Such discussions are important to break down the barriers that prevent individuals from pursuing their goals for establishing meaningful relationships and getting married.

Chesed is a cornerstone of the Torah, and the chesed of helping Adam find his mate was the first recorded chesed in the Torah – performed by none other than Hakadosh Baruch Hu. Persons with disabilities have the right to enjoy as much of life as typically developing people do, and it is great chesed to help those who need the extra support and guidance to achieve their goals. We are embarking on a new frontier to give individuals with disabilities some of the same opportunities the mainstream population appreciates. There are no easy answers and the road can be long and bumpy; however, we need to join together and ask, “what are the obstacles that we need to overcome” until we reach our goal.

One Is Hashem: Imbuing Your Child With Emunah And Bitachon

Friday, August 31st, 2012

There’s an old song in which a child asks, “Father, please tell me, what should I believe?” If all you had to do to instill emunah in your children was just tell them what to believe, the task would not be nearly so daunting. “It’s very easy to train little kids–they’ll believe whatever you tell them,” says Rabbi Yaakov Horowitz, founder and dean of Yeshiva Darchei Noam in Monsey and director of Project Y.E.S. “The challenge is to convey messages in a way that allows [children] to grow into it, so that it’s not a superficial bitachon but one that will really last.”

We asked several experienced mechanchim for their insights on how to shepherd children from their first “Modeh Ani” to the understanding that Hashem alone holds the key to every aspect of their existence. Here are the key principles they shared.

Keep Hashem Front And Center

The first imperative is to make Hashem part of your daily vocabulary. “Let them hear Hashem on your lips,” says Goldie Golding, early childhood director at Yeshiva Shaare Torah in Flatbush and author of several Artscroll children’s titles. “If you can’t find your car keys, say ‘Hashem, please help me find them!’” If you find a parking spot, thank Hashem out loud. And if you miss the bus, acknowledge that Hashem didn’t want you to be on that bus. “Gam zu l’tovah” (this too is for the best) is a great catchphrase, but you need to put Hashem into the equation: Why is it for the best? Because Hashem sent it. “What at first might seem like [they are] just repeating what the parent says, with time, with daily occurrences, over and over and over again, becomes true bitachon,” Golding says.

On an intellectual level, emunah and bitachon begin with the knowledge that Hashem is the Creator, says Malkie Machlis, principal of C32rown Heights Yeshiva Day School of Mill Basin. Many years ago, when she was a teacher introducing first graders to Parshas Beraishis, she would ask them: “If I give you crayons and paper, could you make me a picture?” “Of course,” they would answer. “What if I gave you nothing? Nothing at all? Then could you make me something?” “No,” they had to concede. “Hashem can!” she would explain. “Once they understand that Hashem can do that, then they can have emunah and bitachon,” she says.

Most young children will struggle with the concept of Hashem at one point or another–what is He? What does He look like? However, no one can really explain what Hashem is, says Rabbi Chaim Finkelstein, a second-grade rebbe at Mesivta Tifereth Jerusalem on the Lower East Side, storyteller, and author of the Burksfield Bike Clubseries (Judaica Press). Trying to do so by comparing Him to any other being can lead children down the wrong path. The better approach, says Rabbi Finkelstein, is to stress Hashem’s omnipotence, His love for them, and His ever-presence in their lives.

Lead By Example

On one hand, we want to get our kids used to doing mitzvosdavening, making brachos, wearing tzitzis–in such a way that observance becomes ingrained as a habit, says Rabbi Peretz Hochbaum, director of Ohel’s Camp Kaylie and a longtime educator. In that sense, doing mitzvos by rote is a positive thing. On the other hand, there is so much more–understanding the words of tefillah, performing mitzvos with kavanah, feeling close to Hashem–that we want to cultivate in our children.

We want them to appreciate that each of us has a personal relationship with Hashem which continues even when things get tough, says Rabbi Hochbaum, whether it’s Cheerios spilled on the floor, the car breaking down or the loss of a job. By remaining steadfast in your observance, and handling life’s ups and downs with bitachon, you model for your children how to do the same.

Showing enthusiasm for mitzvos is another important way to model closeness with Hashem. “We need to imbue our children with how wonderful it is to be Hashem’s chosen nation, how lucky are we that Hashem gave us the Torah, how it elevates us,” says Machlis. When you do mitzvos, show your kids, she says. “Don’t bake that cake for a neighbor while the kids are sleeping.” Golding agrees. “They have to see the love that you have for Hashem. Every mitzvah you do, say ‘Hashem gave us this mitzvah, He gave us such a gift.’” And don’t be heard complaining what a long Shabbos it is!

Let The Questions Flow

“Today for sure kids are going to ask you questions,” says Rabbi Horowitz. “Assume that everything you say is going to be challenged later in life.” Before you worry about having answers, make sure your home is a totally safe environment for your children to ask questions, even those that go to the core of yahadus. Suppressing your child’s questions, says Rabbi Horowitz, is a lot more dangerous than giving imperfect answers.

Who Do You Think You Are?

Thursday, November 24th, 2011

From 1986 through 2004 Regesh Family and Child Services ran a renowned residential treatment program for difficult and at-risk youth and children.  Over the many years of providing residential, as well as outpatient care, we realized that children and youth with symptoms of an attachment disorder acted out the most and were difficult children to make immediate progress with.  These children always required more long-term care and much caring and patience.  These children display defiance, opposition or, maybe worst of all, indifference.  A child with insecure attachment or an attachment disorder doesn’t have the skills necessary to bond with caregivers or build meaningful relationships.  The behaviors of these children leave adults exhausted, angry and often feeling helpless and hopeless.

Attachment problems fall on a spectrum, from mild problems that are easily addressed to the most serious form, known as reactive attachment disorder.  It is beyond the scope of this article to discuss the various types or their treatments.  However, in brief, attachment disorders are the result of negative experiences in a child’s earliest developmental stage and early relationships.  If a young child feels repeatedly abandoned, isolated, powerless, or uncared for—for whatever reason—he or she will learn that other people can’t be depended on and that the world is a dangerous and frightening place.  Consequently, their behavior reflects these feelings.  Some causes of this phenomenon include, but are not limited to: infants with teenage mothers, infants with extended hospital stays, parents who do not give the required attention to the child or parents whose attention and caring are inconsistent (that is, sometimes they are there for the child while other times they cannot be relied on).  Other conditions leading to possible attachment problems include the young child who gets attention only by acting out or displaying other extreme behaviors; a young child or baby who is mistreated or abused, or a baby or young child who is moved from one caregiver to another (this can be the result of adoption, foster care or the loss of a parent).

Healthy attachment, like trust, begins in infancy.  The infant quickly learns that when he/she feels discomfort, i.e. from being wet, hungry or in pain, there will be someone, a caregiver, usually a mother, there to relieve the discomfort.  This first stage of developing trust leads to the development of an attachment between the infant and the caregiver.  The infant develops a clear preference for being with, and interacting with, those specific caregivers over lesser known individuals.  Thus, without proper attachment to this primary individual, the child’s emotional and nurturing needs are not met. When the normal attachment process does not occur, children develop abnormal relationships with caregivers, leading to potential serious mental health and behavioral issues.  Due to the pervasive nature of this disorder, subsequent interpersonal relationships, such as the development of normal peer and ultimately romantic relationships in later childhood are often distorted.  In addition to unconditional loving and consistent parenting, therapy is often required to work with such children and adolescents.

Why am I giving you all this background?  Lately I hear a common theme in the attitudes of at-risk youth.  Perhaps you have heard it as well.  It goes like this: “Who do you think you are?”  “You have no right to tell me what to do.”  “You can’t make me” or the challenge “Try to make me.”  The theme is the same; the parent, caregiver, teacher does not have any rights or better, any connection or relationship with the youth, in his or her mind.  There seems to be a disconnect between the child and the adult.

Why do kids do what we ask of them?  Really, think about this question.  At what age does a child make up his own mind to do as he wants, not as you want?  (This is a whole article within itself). When do we no longer have the “power” to “make” a child do what we want?

Leiby’s Legacy

Wednesday, August 10th, 2011

Note to readers: When I heard the words, “You give us seven minutes and we’ll give you the world” on the radio at 6:30 a.m. on Wednesday morning, July 13, I never thought that what I was about to hear would shake me to the core and change my world forever. I could not come to myself – and I’m sure most of klal Yisrael couldn’t either. So I sat down and the following poem spilled forth. Because it is written in a simple style, simple enough for any child to understand, I hope it does not seem to trivialize what happened; it is just my humble reaction to an earth-shattering event.

 

*  *  *

 

A tzadik was born, to perform a tafkid so rare,

To make klal Yisrael express that they care.

Barely nine short years later, his mission fulfilled,

He returned to his Maker, as was willed.

 

The decree from Above seemed a harsh fall.

Why should one family take the burden for all?

But as the details unfolded, unimaginable, unreal,

It reminded me of an earlier time, when Hashem made a deal.

 

Like to Avraham about S’dom, now Hashem made a vow.

“If the klal could show achdus, then maybe somehow

The g’zar will be lifted, and you’ll all return

To the way it was before, the decree will adjourn.”

 

If in seven short minutes, every Yid would perform

A mitzvah bein adam l’chaveiro, the decree could be torn.

If in the seven minutes Leiby waited, any Yid really looked

At the lost look on his face, he would have been hooked.

 

If an onlooker had asked, “Need help? Are you waiting for your mother?”

Leiby might’ve asked him for guidance, instead of the other

But we hurried on by, didn’t volunteer to assist,

The clock ticked on, the surveillance camera hissed.

 

And the monster paid his bill, and emerged to the boy

Did he come with a promise of a TV or a toy?

Leiby followed behind, like no father would ask,

Cause the man’s mind was focused on his dastardly task.

 

The seven minutes we wasted, not looking not seeing;

The seven minutes he waited while we were too busy “me”ing.

An opportunity lost to set Leiby on a good path,

Away from the monster, away from his wrath.

 

Now there’s no turning back, no way to undo,

Just trust in Hashem as an ehrlicha Jew.

And we must surrender and beg Hashem to forgive,

Though we’ll never understand as long as we live.

 

Don’t you all remember in yeshiva we learned

Of magefos and troubles and Jews that were burned?

And the pasuk just prior described all their bad deeds

And all of the mitzvos they neglected to heed.

We all read aloud and said to ourselves with a smirk,

Didn’t that generation realize they were acting like jerks?

Why couldn’t they see just one pasuk behind,

That their deeds and actions were causing this bind?

 

And we, our history yet unrecorded, we too don’t look within,

We point and we blame someone else for our sins.

Hashem, He asks only that we follow His Torah,

And then we will see, “LaYehudim Ha’yesa Orah.”

 

We too are blind to the warnings, we are blind to our plight,

We don’t see our own monsters hiding in the dark of night.

And so Hashem creates a tzadik to show us the way,

To really look at each other every night and every day.

 

To weed out the monsters, not hide them from view,

And help protect our children from what they could do.

Chronicles Of Crises In Our Communities – 3/04/11

Wednesday, March 2nd, 2011

Dear Rachel,

How easy it is for most people to take life for granted. I was in the city today to see my doctor. It was pouring when I went, but I wore my coat with a hood attached and so I decided that I would walk the stretch from 34th Street and 8th Avenue to W. 19th and 6th. Long avenue blocks, for those who are familiar with New York City, but no big deal, one might say. Well, that all depends…

On the way back, I took a cab. It had stopped raining by then, but I was simply too tired to walk. I had a train to catch at Penn Station and needed to transfer at Jamaica Avenue. Again, really no big deal. Plenty of commuters do this daily.

If I wasn’t tired enough, we (the passengers) were asked to move to another car when the doors wouldn’t close at first and then wouldn’t open. It was a packed train, and there I was, schlepping my oxygen wheelie (a case that houses my portable oxygen tank) which I can’t leave home without. For without the help of oxygen being continuously pumped into my lungs, my oxygen intake level would fall far short of the required level for a body’s normal function, and my life would be jeopardized.

It was really hot on the train. I finally found a seat but had to stand up to remove my coat and then sit back down with my coat hanging over the wheelie. As I balanced my pocketbook on my lap, I tried to tuck the wheelie in front of me so that no one would trip over it. The motion tugged on my nasal cannula, making me acutely self-conscious of the plastic tubing that has become a part of my facial features. At that point I honestly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. In truth, I was fighting the tears that threatened to spill.

As I was getting ready to leave the train at the Jamaica station, there was a man standing in front of me. He must have picked up on my moody blues, because he suddenly said to me, “At least you’re breathing.” So I said, “You’re right.” And he offered, “At least it’s not snowing. It’s all how you look at things.”

We got out and I wasn’t sure which track I was supposed to be at for my train that would be coming in at any moment. Before I could ask someone, the same man spoke up again, ”The next train on this track is going to Far Rockaway.” Now how did he know where I was headed? “I’ll be going…” he then said and was gone in a flash.

He comes out of nowhere, just when I’m feeling totally sorry for myself, and stands there to tell me, “At least you’re breathing.” It was like G-d sending me a message – “it’s not so bad, there’s good in everything…”

It is written that Hashem’s chessed is infinite and we cannot see what is infinite, endless. We cannot accept Hashem’s endless kindness unless it is minimized, limited to the exact amount that a person can accept. (I just read this someplace.) Therefore Hashem brings the bad, the suffering and then the good, so that we can understand His chessed and be grateful and joyful for both. If we realize that the suffering is a tikkun for our sins or to bring us to Olam Haba, we would be joyful no matter what comes our way.

For years I’ve suffered with asthma and many seasonal bouts of pneumonia. One day several months ago, I felt I couldn’t breathe. It seemed that my lungs had taken a beating from the years-long ailments and medication to treat them. When told that I’d need to be on oxygen 24/7 for possibly six months, I was incredulous. After much testing and an eventual diagnosis of COPD (chronic obstructive pulmonary disease), it was extended to a year. A year?! How would I manage, I wondered.

Then there was talk of a lung transplant, and I thought, “Couldn’t I just get on with life attached to this oxygen contraption instead?”

It’s all how you look at things, the man said. I cannot allow self-pity to rule me, because everything is for the good. And G-d willing I will experience the good.

I just wanted to say to everyone out there, don’t take breathing for granted. It’s a gift that you should be extra grateful for every single morning when you awake and find that you are breathing on your own.

Thanks for listening. Please keep me in your prayers.

Frayda bas Sara

 

Dear Frayda bas Sara,

While wallowing in self-pity is futile, a good cry can be therapeutic as well as potent when directed heavenwards to our Father who understands our pain like no one else can. “Hashem hoshia HaMelech yaaneinu b’yom kareinu – G-d save! The King will answer us on the day we call.”

The midrash on the 20th psalm of Tehillim cites a parable of a mother who was angry with her daughter. But when her daughter was about to give birth and cried out in pain, her mother was there at her side crying along with her. Though we anger Hashem, He hearkens to us when we cry out in distress. What better proof of this than the miracle of Purim!

Your message is powerful. Who doesn’t take breathing for granted, and yet, every breath we take and every move we make is indeed miraculous and should give us pause — to take time out daily to communicate to our Maker our appreciation for His benevolence.

Despite our awareness that “everything is for the good,” we are human and things will get to us at times. You seem to be doing a great job keeping yourself together under difficult circumstances.

Your name in Yiddish means “happiness” — apropos for this month of Adar when our simcha intensifies due to Hashem’s annulment of our enemy’s evil designs.  In the days of Mordechai and Esther the heavens opened up to intercept our cries and prayers, and thus the month of Adar is deemed a mazeldic time for Yidden everywhere.

May Hakadosh Baruch Hu have mercy upon all of His children who call on Him and depend on Him for their very life’s breath, and may He send you a complete refuah shelaima that will enable you to shed your excess baggage, as you continue to impart your message of strength and hope.

* * * * *

We encourage women and men of all ages to send in their personal stories via email to  rachel@jewishpress.com  or by mail to Rachel/Chronicles, c/o The Jewish Press, 4915 16th Ave., Brooklyn, N.Y. 11204. If you wish to make a contribution and help agunot, your tax-deductible donation should be sent to The Jewish Press Foundation. Please make sure to specify that it is to help agunot, as the foundation supports many worthwhile causes.

Printed from: http://www.jewishpress.com/sections/family/chronicles-of-crises/chronicles-of-crises-in-our-communities-322/2011/03/02/

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