On Our Own/Cheryl Kupfer

Two weeks ago I wrote about a culture of self-indulgence and instant gratification that seems to have permeated Western society.

In my previous column, I noted that the typical response to a tragedy in the heimishe community is a call forteshuvah. Almost always, the two "culprits" singled out for the cause of our misfortunes and in most need of repair are shmiras halashon and a lack of tznuit. I stated my belief that these are just two of the many components of a more insidious behavior that is pandemic in our community - that being the wanton, often deliberate action of misleading and fooling people into doing things that ultimately are detrimental and even ruinous to them.

They are all heroes, I thought to myself, those who go – and those who let go.

We assure ourselves that we will take the high road and refrain from lashon hara or spreading gossip – even if the information is true.

This column is being written on my secular birthday, February 14 (my real birthday is 11 Adar), a birthday - not surprisingly - that I share with my twin brother.

I'd like to point out certain lifesaving classes that I think would be in the best interest of all students to be taught, and should be part of the curriculum.

"In every generation they try to kill us, and the Holy One, Blessed Be He, rescues us from their hands." Every year, for centuries, Jews the world over say these words at the Seder. I paid particular attention this year as this phrase was sung by the golden-voiced Dudu Fisher, a chazzan and Broadway star, who led sedarim at Kutcher's Hotel in the Catskill Mountains.

From time to time, I am asked where I get ideas for my articles. The answer is simple. Just from getting up in the morning and experiencing life.

Whereas good-hearted Leah went the proverbial “extra mile,” her siblings couldn't be bothered giving her an extra inch.

It's erev Pesach, the house is sparkling, the chicken soup is cooking, the potatoes have been peeled (20 pounds worth) and the guests are on their way.

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.

Dear Readers: The following short story is fictional. However, many of you will surely nod your heads in agreement as you recognize people you know - perhaps yourself - in the characters I have described. I hope in future articles, to touch on what I believe are the various psychological factors that contribute to the shidduch crisis.

With the Sefiras HaOmer period behind us, the wedding season is in full swing.

People have been bitterly complaining about the rising price of gas.

"And Avraham expired and died at a good age, mature and content and he was gathered to his people." (English translation of verse 8, chapter 25, Parshat Chayai Sarah in the Book of Genesis.)

During Yom Tov, the great majority of Jews are surrounded by family, friends and neighbors. Whether in shul or at the table, we share the holiness and festivities that define our holidays with the ones we love and are connected to. The hours fly as we daven, and later feast on a succulent variety of fish and meat dishes, kugels, salads and desserts. The day is full of warmth, color and noise as adult banter mingles with children's chatter.

There are fathers who bravely step up to the plate and fill in the maternal vacuum with their love and devotion.

I was deeply saddened by the petira of Mrs. Irene Klass, a"h, wife and daughter of Rabbi Sholom Klass, z"l and Mr. Raphael Schreiber, a"h, founders of The Jewish Press. Although our paths only crossed once - and just for a minute - that one very brief encounter had a lasting, positive impact on the quality of my life. The handful of words that Mrs. Klass, a complete stranger, said to me ignited a flicker of light on the gloomy road I was on, a light that was to grow stronger and brighter with the passing of time. Almost comically, this encounter took place over 25 years ago in a swimming pool at the Homowack Hotel in the Catskill Mountains of New York.

Make sure when walking alone on Shabbat and Yom Tov, that you have your name and/or address in a pocket (if there is a eruv) since you won’t have your purse or phone with you.

When it appeared that I was going to be okay and the teachers could start breathing again, they asked what in the world made me do such a dangerous thing, jumping off the swing in midair.

I know Purim is over, but Megillat Esther is so rich with lessons on how people should live their lives - along with the consequences of not doing so - that I wish to share one of the many wisdoms that I have gleaned from reading it. I believe that the world wouldn't be in the mess it is in - economically, socially and spiritually - if people would only open their eyes to the megillah's masterful insights on how to behave.

A friend of mine, a young mother, related that her oldest child, now three, was starting pre-school in a few weeks. Her voice, full of pride, quickly took on a tone of annoyance as she described the “welcome package” she had received as a new parent. Amid the rules and regulations concerning drop off and pick up was a dress code for mothers/female caregivers who brought and took home the children. One of the “requirements” was wearing closed–toed shoes. Sandals were not allowed.

Chanukah is just about upon us and Jews across the planet are looking forward to family gatherings, delicious food (you can’t feel too guilty eating oily latkes and high carb donuts on the chag – hey, it’s practically a mitzvah to do so); giving and receiving gifts and in general celebrating our survival – our spiritual continuance as God-fearing Jews. (Our physical survival is an event we acknowledge on Purim.)

I recently became a bubbe again with the birth of a granddaughter, Kayla Elisheva.

If certain elements of the charedi community have issues with the way women dress, let them figure out a way to alleviate their obvious spiritual and mental distress in a way that does not encroach on other people’s rights. It's their problem - they need to resolve it, instead of demanding that a huge segment of society change their lives and the way they do things just to accommodate them.

But even though their medical situations were similar, how they mentally dealt with their new status quo was often as different as night and day.

Dear Readers: The following short story is fictitious, but the situation of Jewish children during the Holocaust being raised by gentile families or in Catholic convents and orphanages is not. While some were re-united with family members who survived the death camps – many were not, and remain lost both physically and religiously. This story is in memory of all the lost children. May they be reunited with their families with the coming of Moshiach.

Last time I wrote about the misguided attitude toward sports and exercise that seemingly permeates many frum circles. Some askanim view physical activity as unnecessary, needlessly diverting precious time from Torah study.

Unpleasant happenings are quickly discarded if they do not affect us directly.

How efficient to kill two birds with one stone – or booking. Actually three birds, since I invited a man I had commiserated with while waiting my turn to join me.