To the Shadchan:

I am looking for some direction. I am a 39-year-old single woman working in an office. I’m happy with my job, and I have good friends that I like to spend time with and travel with. I live with my parents. I could live on my own, but I enjoy my family’s company. We are very family-oriented and often get together with extended family, including my siblings and many nieces and nephews.

Recently, someone suggested a 40-year-old guy from Florida for me. As always, my mother started calling around to find out the basics, and when the prospect sounded interesting, she made a barrage of phone calls to his references to find out more details. The guy had said yes, but when he was told that my mother was making all these calls, he was turned off and changed his mind.

Who doesn’t tremble on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, when the chazan chants the somber and fearsome Unesanu Tokef? This year, as we recall the unprecedented number of water tragedies that have occurred this summer, we will surely shudder even more when he comes to the part, “Mi vamayim – Who shall perish by water.”

The swimming season had barely gotten underway, in June, when three children drowned in Israel, leaving them in serious and critical condition; later that month, a man in his 50s fatally drowned in a pool in Tzefas. Closer to home, we are still traumatized by the drowning of Rabbi Reuven Bauman, z”l, who heroically jumped into the ocean to save a student and whose body was found off the coast of North Carolina by a boat of Misaskim of Maryland volunteers from Baltimore.

September brings a breath of fresh air, literally, if you take into account Baltimore’s signature summer heat and humidity. The temperature has finally dropped to under “melting,” and we can breathe easy again. Unfortunately, the return to the soothing hum of routine may be an illusion that is only sustainable because our lives don’t come with background music. If they did, something ominous would certainly be playing. Something enormous is coming and will be upon us before we have a chance to turn around, something so immense it disrupts school, siphons sleep, and even has its own season: Yom Tov.

Whew, Rosh Hashanah is coming – a time for reflection, a time for excitement. The Days of Awe they are called, meaning reverential respect mixed with wonder. That’s the way I like to think about Hashem, One Who is so much more than I can imagine, Who loves me unconditionally and totally, no matter what I do, and is there for me whenever I ask. And although I do not always get exactly what I want, I do always find a listening ear.

My father (may his neshama have an aliya) was also there for me. He always had time for me. He enjoyed my company, and gave me some advice and maybe a funny story to make my life just a little bit sweeter.

Treading on ancient cobblestone roads, one enters the imposing Sha’ar Yafo, Jaffa Gate, into Jerusalem of Old. The sun shimmers off the stone walls, enveloping you in gold: the fabled Yerushalayim shel Zahav, Jerusalem of Gold. Within these magnificent walls live thousands of Jews, Muslims, and Christians. For the past few years, I have been privileged to know one special family, originally from America, who requested to remain anonymous. I will call them Family L.

Electronic cigarettes, or e-cigarettes, are battery-operated smoking devices. These devices work by applying heat to a liquid-filled cartridge. The liquid, which is converted to an aerosol by the heat, contains nicotine. Inhalation of the aerosol is often called vaping. E-liquids come in a variety of flavors that turn out to be quite appealing to teenagers, like watermelon, cappuccino, and mango. While there are many different brands of e-cigarettes, the JUUL brand is by far the most popular, and the term “juuling” is now pretty much synonymous with vaping. E-cigarettes come in many sleek and user-friendly designs, most often resembling cigarettes, pens, or USB flash drives. An important aspect of these devices is that they mask unwanted tastes and smells commonly associated with smoking.

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.