Chol Hamoed Pesach. My wife and I joined Shmuel Chaim Naiman for a foraging walk in the hills outside of Ramat Beit Shemesh. He is the son of Rabbi Abba Zvi and Mrs. Rochel Naiman of Baltimore. Rabbi Abba Zvi was my classmate in TA since second grade.

Walking the paths through the fields, we learned about wild oats, carrots, figs, and other plants. We learned about spiritually connecting to the physicality of Eretz Yisrael. Around our group of Anglos, we saw Israeli families, some of them very chareidi, also trekking in the hills. Is there a better way to spend Chol Hamoed?

The finale of the tour was the story of David and Goliath, who fought it out in the Elah Valley below us. Also visible dotting the surrounding hills were rising apartment complexes. Here was Israel – history, nature, and rebirth – all in one foraging walk.

by Aryeh Berkowitz

Whether you’re planning a chasana, a bar mitzvah, or a vort, everyone knows that music makes the simcha. But what music? And which musician? One-man band or orchestra? Extra singer? Which songs? How loud?

When it comes to choosing the musical entertainment, I have found that people have many questions. Here are answers to some of the common ones as well as some you may never have thought of.

 It never occurred to Dov Pear that he would one day have a stand at a local farmer’s market selling homegrown “specialty” mushrooms to a regular returning clientele. And yet week after week, he is doing what he loves: growing and selling gourmet mushrooms at local farmer’s markets.

How did this come about? Dov explains that he has always had a fascination with mushrooms whenever the family took hikes in the woods. “If you’re not looking for them, they can really go unnoticed. But like anything, once you start looking, they seem to be everywhere.” Fascinating by the myriad varieties they found, the next question was, “Can I eat these, and can I grow them?”

Eating wild mushrooms is HIGHLY DISCOURAGED unless you are an expert in mushroom identification and have been trained in the field by other experts. The simple reason is that a mistake can be deadly; some poisonous mushrooms look similar to edible mushrooms. A family friend who is an expert in mushroom identification took the family on a foraging hike and showed them a couple types of mushrooms that they could safely pick as they had no look-alike competitors. “I would never rely on a field guide or mushroom app and go ahead and eat a wild mushroom, unless I had an experienced forager with me,” says Dov.

Dov wondered if there was a safe way to grow mushrooms. It was at this time that Covid kept everyone at home, so Dov signed up for an online course and began his journey into mushroom cultivation. “It’s ironic that, as a kid, I thought that mushrooms were the embodiment of the sitra achra. How was it possible that my family actually ate them?” He remembers one time when his mother served spaghetti sauce with tiny bits of mushroom, and he had a full-blown meltdown at the table, until his wonderful mother picked out each and every mushroom for him. (He did not share how old he was at the time!)

Everyone who has children worries about chinuch (education). From the time a baby is born – and does nothing but sleep, eat, and cry – parents worry: Will the baby become spoiled if I pick him up the minute he cries? If I let her cry, am I teaching her that I don’t care? As the child grows older, the dilemmas just multiply, and of course, when he or she goes to school, chinuch becomes the teacher’s problem, too.

Are the children of our generation different from children 50 years ago? Probably. Each generation of children is affected by the surrounding society – as are parents and teachers. While we like to imagine that they used to just “know” how raise and educate children, whereas we have lost our way, maybe we are idealizing the past, and our confusion stems from today’s different social realities. Or maybe we are merely more aware of the complexity of the task. To get some insight on this very important topic, I surveyed parents, teachers, administrators, authors, and parenting instructors.

Today’s Children

Not surprisingly, people love their pet dogs. It is estimated that about 50 percent of U.S. households own at least one dog, accounting for a pet dog in 60- to 65-million households.  During the Covid pandemic, with people spending more time at home, about 3.1 million pet dogs were added to American homes.

Walking is the most common form of physical activity among adults in the U.S., and walking a pet dog is a great way to get the recommended 30 minutes of daily exercise. But there are hazards. In just the past few months, several of my friends had falls while walking their dogs, resulting in fractures of a wrist, a finger, a hip, a humerus, and an ankle. One walker’s fall resulted in a subdural hematoma. All but one of the injuries occurred in women. This is not surprising as women are more likely than men to walk a pet dog and may be at increased fracture risk because of underlying osteoporosis.

Risk of injury while dog walking is common and on the rise. Researchers at the University of Pennsylvania analyzed statistics from the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission and found that from 2004 to 2017, the number of hospital emergency room visits involving bone fractures in older adults who had been walking leashed dogs more than doubled. The increase was attributed to two factors: a rise in pet ownership and increased emphasis on physical activity among older people.

“Stop being a yenta!” my mother would exclaim when I’d try to listen in on her phone calls. There was no social media in the 90s, so my mother’s only mode of communication was to talk on the phone for hours – to her mother, a”h, her friends, our neighbors.

It’s not that I wanted to know the gossip on the other line for any nefarious reasons – I simply craved information about other peoples’ lives. It helped orient me in a big, confusing world of social norms and expectations.

My brain has always been a little bit different. I get hyper-focused on certain special interests, remember minute details of certain events, but can’t ever remember where I left my keys. As a young person, I struggled to figure out friendships as relationships became more about common interests and less about proximity. Being a “yenta” helped me study people’s lives and get a better picture of how the world works. What my mom meant by “stop being a yenta” was stop being so nosy; no one likes a gossip. As I grew up and learned how to navigate often painful and confusing social situations through the varied relationships of adolescence, I realized that my yenta tendencies had less to do with gossip and more to do with understanding the people, their problems, and the world around me.

Retired professional basketball player Tamir Goodman hasn’t taken a break since hanging up his professional basketball uniform. We spoke with the “Jewish Jordan” during his recent visit to Baltimore about his upbringing here, making a kiddush Hashem, and how he has been helping kids affected by the Gaza war both on and off the court. Tamir is also raising a family, running a tech startup, and using his public persona to publicize the name of Hashem each day.

 Chaim Yehuda Meyer: You’ve said that in order to reach the highest level of anything you really have to love it. Did your Talmudical Academy education help engender your love of Torah and mitzvos?

 Tamir Goodman: My yeshiva education at TA was very helpful in that I had great rabbis and educators, especially Coach Harold Katz, who has coached me since the age of seven. Today, 35 years later, I still consider him a mentor, friend, and coach. Coach Katz has had a tremendously positive impact on my life as well as that of other athletes who have played under him. I am still close with some of these players today.

as told to Margie Pensak by Rachel Golfeiz

 Even though it’s been nearly two years since my beloved mother, Esther Shmueli, a”h, left this world – 28 years after my father – the pain of her absence still feels fresh. Her presence was so powerful, her heart so expansive, and her emunah so unwavering, that her memory lives on in every act of kindness she touched. There are countless stories about my mother’s chesed, her bitachon, and her uncanny ability to foresee the future. Here are just a few.

My mother was born in Iran in 1932. As was customary then, she married young – at just 13 years old – and became a mother by 14. Soon after, in 1948, my parents made aliyah to Israel. Like many immigrants, they began their new life in a tent, with barely enough food to eat. But my mother never complained; she was overjoyed to be living in Eretz Yisrael.

Last month, I presented my questions and anxiety about my pending retirement, and I introduced the idea of an interactive retirement column. I asked readers to respond with their stories, questions, and ideas, and I thank all those who submitted responses. It is heartening to know that I am not alone and that many of you have been pondering the same questions. Although the letters below do not solve all my quandaries, I know that some Where What When readers will truly benefit from these thoughtful and admirable people.

I have broken the responses into topics for easier perusing.

Request for Help

Dear Rochelle,

When I retired, I became a ride coordinator and driver for Bikur Cholim. I met a lot of people and felt like I was doing something important. After Covid, I became the person running the entire program. I enjoy helping people, but as my driver pool dwindles, I am short on drivers. Now the job is difficult because I have to tell many people who need help that I can’t help them. It would be very beneficial to recruit new drivers. New retirees are perfect for this job. It is as easy as giving one hour a week, if possible. I’d be happy to have people sign up, even if they can only do one ride a month. I have drivers who have told me they have met so many nice people. If you can help, please call me at 443-474-0093.

Bonnie Horowitz

by Rabbi Shmuel Simenowitz

The gemara in Chagiga tells the tragic tale of the four who entered the “pardes” – the mystical realm far beyond the pay grade of all but the most solid and stalwart spiritual scholars. The story I present here, by contrast, not nearly as dramatic but captivating nevertheless, is about three childhood friends. Similar themes snake through their upbringing, and despite marked differences in the forums within which they chose to leave their imprint, there are underlying commonalities in their respective callings. One became a celebrated rabbi, rarely failing to make the Newsweek top-50 most influential rabbi list. A second became the American ambassador to Israel during Donald Trump’s first term of office, and one of them tells jokes at Beth Abraham (Hertzbergs) between the lukshen and potato kugels. Please indulge me and allow me to elaborate.