The recently released, English-language sefer, Badei Hamitzvos Volume 1: Bereishis and Shemos, (Feldheim 2025), by Rabbi Yitzchok Weber, is a concise, easy-to-read, and indispensable guide to the 613 mitzvos and their halachos, enlightening readers of all ages to the taryag mitzvos and the parsha. The work is arranged according to the weekly Torah portion and follows the mitzvos as laid out by the Sefer Hachinuch. The author, Rabbi Yitzchok Weber, provides sources from the Rambam, Shulchan Aruch, and Rashi, as well as other Acharonim. Volume 1 covers Bereishis and Shemos. Readers can engage in in-depth study thanks to extensive footnotes. Badei Hamitzvos has received extensive haskamos and excellent reviews for being a comprehensive yet accessible guide to the 613 mitzvos. 

Rabbi Weber* first lists a pasuk, its mitzva, halachos, and application as well as the consequences of violating the mitzvah. The in-depth footnotes provide explanations and sources. Badei Hamitzvos can also be used as a teaching tool and for Shabbos table discussion. This sefer makes learning about the mitzvos more enjoyable and gives an enhanced appreciation of the mitzvos. Readers of any age, both men and women, can appreciate this work and will learn all about each mitzvah through text and sources, according to his or her own level.

March 11: Last Monday afternoon, as we were getting ready for supper in our Ramat Beit Shemesh home, we suddenly heard a very loud boom. The house even shook a bit. There was no warning or siren. Maybe they are finally really coming? We scurried to our safe room, in case more were on the way.

It turns out that Hezbollah had landed a missile in the Emek Ha’elah Satellite Station, an array of large satellite dishes down the valley from where David fought Goliath. Few people were hurt, many were frightened, and Hezbollah claimed they had attacked a “satellite station belonging to the communications and cyber-defense corps of the Israeli enemy army in the Elah Valley.”

Now, I’m no stranger to the Elah Valley. Besides being just over the hill, it has some of the best hiking and foraging in Israel. There are top-secret military bases in the area (sorry, not telling), but the satellite station never seemed to have anything to do with the army. It is surrounded by a simple barbed wire fence, has little visible security, and can easily be found online and on Google Maps.

Sorry, Hezbollah.

For years I’ve been frustrated by the way gas stations advertise prices. The big sign shows one number, but when you get to the pump, you find out that’s the cash price. Pay with a credit card and you’re charged more. So, the question becomes: Is it worth overpaying for gas in exchange for earning points? In the end, have you gained more than you’ve lost?

Credit Card Points

Many credit cards give you points redeemable for travel. I value my miles at about 3% – meaning that, if I spend $100, I get roughly $3 worth of travel. In the past, I felt that using my credit card for gas was basically a wash: I didn’t lose, but I didn’t gain much either.

I learned recently that the new Baltimore group, Let’s Connect, will be starting a welcome wagon for any women over age 50 who move to Baltimore. What a fabulous idea that is. As you are probably aware, women who are at or near retirement age are moving to cities where their children reside. They come from Silver Spring and Denver, Boston and Atlanta – you name it. I know plenty of women from Cleveland who have moved to Lakewood, pulling up stakes and leaving the place they called home for 30 years or more. They want to be near their children and grandchildren while they are still young enough to enjoy them.

It certainly is a great idea and one my husband and I have considered, but there’s just something about Baltimore that makes the decision to move to Lakewood a hard one. As my parents have often said since moving here from the small town where they lived for 59 years, “People here are just so nice!” Everyone has a kind word to say, from the servers at the restaurants to the cashiers at the grocery stores, even the lady at the post office. Could it be Southern hospitality, I wonder, since Baltimore is at the top of the Southern states? Maybe it’s because so many generations stayed in Baltimore and have never left. No matter where my husband (who was born and bred right here) and I go, we manage to meet many people who graduated from Pikesville High.

And look at our wonderful community that’s filled with achdus as far as the eye can see. How heartwarming it is to attend events with rabbanim of every stripe. It’s a credit to them and to the people from each shul and, of course, to Ner Yisroel, which instills the importance of middos tovos. It’s incredible how often men who are at least 30 years younger than my husband stop and take the time to say hello or good Shabbos and who offer him rides to shul, come rain or shine.

by Rivkah Goodman

 “Ruthy, did you hear the mazal tov?” Leah, from down the block, shrieked into the phone. “Simi’s engaged!”

Ruthy pulled a turtleneck out of the laundry basket and folded it with unintentional force. “Yes,” Ruthy said, trying to muster up some enthusiasm, ignoring the ball of fear growing in her stomach.

“I’m so happy for Gila,” Leah continued, oblivious to Ruthy’s bland reaction. “So, who’s the boy? Where is he learning?”

Ruthy answered all the forthcoming questions with whatever information she knew.

“Did you speak to Gila yet, is she thrilled?” Leah babbled. Ruthy pulled out a towel and folded it in perfect rectangles.

“I spoke to her briefly; she called me last night on the way to the lechaim,” Ruthy stated carefully, leaving all emotions aside.

Since I moved back to Baltimore nine years ago, I’ve met several skilled sheitel machers, and one of them gives me a great haircut. Women have no halacha to follow on how their hair should be cut, but what about boys and men? Rabbi Avrohom Kaufman, who lives in Kiryat Sefer, recently visited his parents, Evelyn and Dovid Shnier, in Baltimore and brought along a book on men’s hair cutting, Tispores K’Halacha, by the Rabbanim of the Kashrus Organization of Halachic Haircutting, which he is in the process of translating into English, under the title The Kosher Haircut.

From the time a Jewish boy gets his first haircut, whether at three years old, if that’s his family’s minhag, or before, everyone who cuts his hair knows to leave the pei’os. However, according to Rabbi Kaufman, there’s more to this mitzva, which he explained in a webinar at the Star-K on Monday, February 23. He also spoke about kosher haircuts with students at TA, and he shared the book privately with Rav Moshe Heinemann, Rabbinic Administrator of the Star-K.

After more than 20 years of living “out of town” and working closely with adolescents and their families, and after tens – if not hundreds of thousands – of conversations with teens and parents through school counseling, nationwide phone calls, and private practice, I can honestly say that I have encountered the full spectrum of mental health realities. But if I pinpoint what I have found to be the single biggest impact, the most important variable in the equation of adolescent mental health and adolescent thriving, it is the ever evolving and deeply unique parent-child relationship.

I am not trying to oversimplify complex situations. I am not trying to place a bandage on larger and broader realities. But I can say, with the full weight of my experience, that the parent-child relationship is the most impactful and meaningful relationship in a child’s life, and even in the most difficult times, it is the relationship children continue to crave.

This article is a brief summary of a few of the themes that I explore more deeply in my upcoming book, Parenting with a Plan, where I discuss the power of relationship- and respect-based parenting, and how the quality of the parent-child connection affects a wide cross section of adolescent life. I want to focus on the basics, and especially on how the parent-child relationship shapes two areas that come up again and again with teenagers: friends and peer pressure. 

If you thought our last production of Mary Poppins was magical, just wait until you see what’s coming next. This November, Baltimore audiences are in for an unforgettable theatrical experience as My Fair Lady takes the stage for three exciting performances on November 14, 15, and 16 at the beautiful Panther Theater.

My Fair Lady is one of Broadway’s most beloved musicals, filled with unforgettable songs, dazzling dance numbers, and a story that audiences have adored for generations. With classics like “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly,” “The Rain in Spain,” and “I Could Have Danced All Night,” the show is packed with music that will have you smiling, tapping your feet, and maybe even humming all the way home.

When I was in Moshav Matityahu last month, former Baltimorean Lisza Beltz Jessel took me on a tour of a couple of miklatim (bomb shelters) that were used during the Gaza War and Operation Rising Lion (the 12-day war with Iran last June). Although Operation Roaring Lion was looming, we weren’t certain just how imminent it was. This is Lisza’s experience of the two previous wars.

“The real fear was in the very beginning, after October 7^th, because Moshav Matityahu is close to an Arab village that is very much a hotbed. Every Friday, this village would have protests to attract the press, so on erev Shabbos, the wind would often bring tear gas used at the protests to elevated neighborhoods, including parts of Kiryat Sefer, which is next to our moshav. The possibility and fear of a foot attack by intruders was hard to live with – you couldn’t sleep at night. Many of us had been very laissez-faire; no missiles have ever fallen here. Since we, like nearby Kiryat Sefer, are a makom comprised of learning people, it is considered that we are also under the bracha of the Chazon Ish, who said a missile will never fall in Bnei Brak.

When my daughter was in first grade, she still couldn’t say the /r/ sound. As both a parent and a speech-language pathologist, I knew that /r/ is one of the later-developing sounds, so I wasn’t concerned. Sure enough, within a year, the sound appeared naturally. By second grade, she was producing it clearly.

My own childhood story was very different. I also struggled with the /r/ sound, but in my case, it did not develop on its own. My mother picked me up early from school once a week to bring me to speech therapy. This was before therapy services were commonly available in schools. With explicit teaching and structured practice, I eventually learned the sound.

These two experiences illustrate an important point: Sometimes speech therapy is truly needed, and sometimes a child is simply still developing. The challenge for parents is knowing the difference.

As a speech-language pathologist, I hear questions like this all the time: “My child can’t say certain sounds. Should I be concerned?” Other parents ask, “My child is dropping the end sounds of words. Is that normal?” Sometimes the question is: “I can’t understand what my three-year-old is saying. Should she get speech therapy?” At the heart of all these questions is the same uncertainty: Is this part of normal development, or does my child need help?

I can’t talk about it.

Not because I don’t want to but because I’m not allowed to. Not in an if-I-told-you-I’d-have-to-kill-you sort of way – I’m not privy to classified secrets. But I do live here, and when things go boom around us, unless they’re on the news (which means they were cleared by military censors), even ordinary citizens are forbidden to talk about – pardon the pun – the “where, what, and when” of what just happened.

As the old saying goes: “Loose lips sink ships.” It’s a legitimate concern. The fear is that enemies could learn where rockets landed and adjust their aim. The last thing we want is better aim next time.

It’s no secret that a direct missile strike hit Beit Shemesh and killed nine people, in what we hope will have been the deadliest incident of the war with Iran. My cousins, who live nearby, felt their house shake. My wife’s coworker, who lives even closer, heard windows shattering in the homes around her.

Other incidents have happened far too close to home, whether it be from shrapnel damage from intercepted missiles or outright hits that got through the formidable defenses that help protect us from the daily barrage hurled by our enemies.

*  *  *

Dear Rabbi Beren,

I’m an elementary school teacher, and a child in my class is having behavioral challenges: acting out in class, calling out, etc. He is starting to be excluded and even bullied by the other kids in class due to his behavior. I can tell that he has low self-esteem and a weak self-concept, which I feel is at the root of some of his issues, but I feel an urgency to focus on just fixing his negative behavior. What do you recommend?

Rivka S.

With Chol Hamoed comes the perennial question: Where shall we go today? Opinions are strong and expectations high. Yet by the time everyone finishes their morning routine and the family “conference,” with its requisite squabbles, the day is three-quarters gone. Here are a few ideas that are close by, not overly expensive, and fun for most members of the family.            

One obvious choice: the great outdoors. The beginning of spring brings warmer weather and longer days, which makes spending time outside a pleasure! There are many outdoor activities in our area. To please a crowd, check out some of the amazing playgrounds located within an hour of Baltimore.

Blandair Park (North area) continues to be a very popular spot for Baltimore families. There are many tables for you to spread out the never-ending Pesach snacks as well as different areas to satisfy all age groups. Be sure to bring bikes and scooters to make use of the great paths for riding!

Meadowood Regional Park is located nearby, just off of Falls Road. The recently redone playground boasts lots of new climbing areas as well as swings and slides. There are also fields for ball playing and paths for walking and riding.

All of us listen to the news and hear the facts about the war in Eretz Yisrael. But nothing compares to hearing from people who are living through it. I spoke with a few of my relatives to find out what it is like.

I spoke first to my sister, Chaya, who lives in Bnei Brak. I asked her why she sounds so calm. Wasn’t she worried that a missile might fall on her head during our conversation? She explained that it is a defense mechanism. “You can’t live in constant fear and remain sane,” she said. “Life goes on as normal most of the time.”

While we were taking at about 10 p.m., Israeli time, one of Chaya’s daughters was outside going for a walk with her friend. I found that hard to believe. Chaya explained, “The children are prepared. They understand that if an alert comes, they should go into a shelter room in a nearby building. Other adults on the street help the children. If a siren goes off while people are on a bus, the bus stops and people go into nearby buildings.

While we were talking, there was an automated call from her children’s teachers explaining that, although there would be no school tomorrow, the children would learn over the phone.

by Avigayil Berkowitz

It’s 8:00 a.m., Shabbos morning, and we hear a knocking on our bedroom door. It’s Uncle Steve. “Don’t worry, we’re up for Parshas Zachor!” we say.

“No, no! I just got an alert of a siren!” he says.

Fine. He packed in with Aunt Lieba following close behind. Miriam and I are staying with my great aunt and uncle for Shabbos in Ramat Beit Shemesh. Since we would be sleeping in the mamad (safe room), they had warned us about the possibility of a siren. “They’ve been talking about an attack for weeks – slim chance that this will be the week. But don’t worry,” they said.

On the way to shul, I asked Miriam if we should find out from someone if there actually was a siren, but we decided it is too embarrassing We joked that it was Hashem’s way of waking us up in time for Parshas Zachor because sem girls don’t have a great track record for waking up on time! But we soon found out that it was legit. We heard the sirens this time with our own ears.