As many of you may have noticed, there has been a significant reduction in the number of people who are illegally parking their vehicles. Many people, once informed that wrong-way parking was unlawful and potentially dangerous, were thankful to have been so informed and simply modified their parking habits.

Her eyes shining, her face glowing with a pure smile, she looked at me: “Tomorrow’s erev Shabbos!” she exclaimed. 

From that very first day of camp, I realized I would learn a lot. But I never could have fathomed how much I would really learn. 

If your travels to Israel between the 1970s and the early 2000s included a visit to the Kotel, chances are you saw – or at least heard of – the legendary Rabbi Meir Schuster, z”l. He was the tall, lanky, black-hatted bearded fellow in the dark suit, who dedicated himself to frequenting the Kotel, day in and day out, no matter what. A man on a mission, he loved his fellow Jews so much that he wanted to share his enthusiasm for Judaism with them, out of pure compassion. Indeed, he received no monetary compensation for his work.

It’s a tale of twos, a story of firsts and of seconds. This Shabbos, two days ago, was the first of two Shabbosim during the Nine Days, during which we mourn the loss of the two Temples. Shabbos morning, in Daf Yomi, Temura 15, we learned about the Jews who came up to the Land of Israel with Ezra the Scribe following 70 years of exile. Some of those men were old enough to recall the idolatry the led to that exile, and the gemarIt’s a says they wept over it.

If those men could weep over the idolatry they witnessed in their childhood, idolatry that led to their 70-year exile, I can weep over the political missteps taken 27 years ago during the 1992 Israeli elections, political missteps in which I took a modest part.

About six or seven years ago, on a weekday Mincha, I noted a visitor. A man in his early 40s, he looked like he had stepped out of an Italian fashion magazine. His clothing was not loud – and very neat – but in modern styles and colors (a different combination each day). Even the shoes matched. I really liked this; it was such a refreshing statement coming from a man whose heart stayed firmly on the path. We soon became friends; I even followed suit (literally) and bumped up my own appearance.

The advent of a wedding creates a whirlwind of excitement. After months of careful planning and preparation, not to mention stress and anxiety, the wedding flies by in the blink of an eye. A flurry of friends and relatives celebrate with the happy couple for hours on end. As the final dance winds down and tables are cleared, the chassan and kallah bid their guests adieu. The young couple, flying high on the stream of good wishes, feels ready to face the world. Having already discussed their hashkofos, chosen their future home, and settled on where they will spend their first Yom Tov, they feel like they are ahead of the game. They don’t realize that their first real-life dilemma is less than 24 hours away.

The circumstances that eventually brought my Syrian grandfather to the U.S. in the 1920s go back to the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869. This great technological feat that tremendously expedited trade all over the world was the beginning of the end of Syria’s status as the trading crossroads of the world. Suddenly, commerce shifted to boats instead of passing through the famed Damascus and Aleppo trading centers. 

A bunch of children were playing tag outside on a long summer Shabbos afternoon. Suddenly, one of the boys started yelling, “No girls allowed.” Other boys joined the battle cry, and the girls stopped in their tracks, not sure whether to go on with the game. Some of them were close to tears. One boy called out loudly, “Why can’t the girls play?! He stopped the whole “revolution” in its tracks, and the game proceeded until dusk.

A high school girl made a nasty comment about her teacher’s clothing to her friend. She was trying to rile up the class to join her in making fun of the teacher. To her surprise, her friend refused to be horrified and instead said, “So what?” catching the instigator off guard. That comment stopped the joke and saved the teacher from an embarrassing situation.

Wouldn’t we all like to be able to claim these children as our own? Don’t we want to raise a child who is strong enough to do the right thing even when overruled by the majority? How can we teach ourselves and our children to be firm in their beliefs? To be kind when everyone else is being mean? This article will not answer these questions definitively but will give us food for thought.

As usual I started exploring this topic by asking friends, family, and acquaintances what they thought about peer pressure.

The summer is a very expensive time of year. Between camp, supplies for camp, and requests for special treats, I and my wallet feel drained. I was excited when a friend suggested that I write about teaching teenagers how to budget as I reasoned that would give me an impetus to get a handle on the topic (keeping in mind my husband’s reminder that I should only write about what I know!).

Fortunately, our community is blessed to have the wonderful organization Mesila, which counsels families on how to stay fiscally responsible. I will leave it to them to provide the practical tips on managing the finances in our lives. Many of our local schools also teach financial management during middle and high school, and these programs should be encouraged and expanded. What I can do is provide some additional ideas that can help frame this important topic.

Watching the sunset from a lookout near Bat Ayin, a small yishuv in Gush Etzion, I was overcome by the sheer beauty of the landscape. Below me, the red-roofed homes of the yishuv were arrayed against the colorful hues of the sky, and in the distance, other yishuvim lay scattered among the brush-covered hilltops. On the horizon, the waters of the Mediterranean Sea sparkled.

I was on an outing in Gush Etzion, sweet memories floating in my mind of when I had called this place home. What an incredible zechut (privilege) it is to live and breathe the air of our holy land. In fact, in this week’s parsha, Va’etchanan, the tremendous importance of Eretz Yisrael is conveyed by the 515 prayers of Moshe Rabbeinu as he pleaded with Hashem to enter the Land. Now, having finished the Three Weeks of mourning over the Beit Hamikdash’s destruction and our national exile, let’s take its message to heart. The initial cause that led to this catastrophic period was the negative reports of the Spies upon their return from Eretz Yisrael. Let us correct that disastrous mistake by sharing some holy highlights of real life in Israel in our times.