Oh, summer, you flew by, and school is starting soon. I know because I got my huge list of supplies, and I’m hoping to find all the required colored binders and composition books (and maybe some fun #2 pencils)! As the mother, though, I’d like to add to the list what to feed the kids when they come home from school “starving.” There are two “schools” of thought on that one: serve healthy snacks until a later dinner time or feed them supper the minute they walk in the door. Let’s try out both options.

Grazing Boards

Having a healthy snack ready when the kids walk in that door has been a game changer for us. Some days, I just put out hummus with carrots and peppers. Some days, I do a larger spread. I have been doing a host of “grazing” boards lately, like the charcuterie boards I described in my last column, as well as shalashudes and dessert boards. I’ve found these grazing boards perfect for after-school snacks as well. After the huge amount of energy children expend at school – including trying not to fidget during class or run in the hallways – when they come home, it’s as though their bodies and minds take a huge cleansing breath that says, “Hooray, I’m home.” And the very first thing their bodies are telling them (whether they know it or not) is that they’re hungry. A healthy, delicious snack recharges their energy before homework, playtime, or chores begin.

It was my first day in camp, and as I sat on the floor davening with my little campers, I couldn’t help but laugh along with Country Yossi’s Modeh Ani song. It’s a cheerful ditty, one that thanks Hashem for our neshamos and giving us the gift of another day. And then it continues in a humorous way, expressing gratitude for Noskes and for Paskesz and, of course, for snow storms that keep us home from school. Obviously, yummy snacks rank high on the scale of importance for kids, and students of all ages anxiously await snow days. But does that mean that kids dread the end of these last drops of summer sunshine and the imminent start of school? Does even the deluge of crisp new notebooks, spanking new school bags, and colorful new shoes not tempt them?

Personally, I always looked forward to school. As the last weeks of summer vacation faded ever so slowly into oblivion, I spent much time peering excitedly at my school supplies, dreaming of that very first day with friends and teachers and learning. Was I alone in my excitement?

South America was on my “bucket list” of places I wanted to visit. I saw a kosher tour organized by Zvi Lapian to the Amazon rainforests, Galapagos Islands, and Peru, including the legendary Machu Picchu, Lost City of the Incas. It sounded exotic and exciting, so I decided to sign up. Little did I realize how strenuous this trip would be. If you’re looking to relax, don’t look here! But if you are seeking to explore the world and learn a lot, by all means go ahead! The remote Galapagos Islands, in particular, are fascinating not only because of the unusual and abundant wildlife but also because of their connection to Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution, which has had such profound effects on Western civilization.

I flew from Tel Aviv to Madrid with Air Europa. The flight from Madrid to Ecuador was delayed by five hours, which meant that I had to spend the whole night at the Madrid airport. There were long lines waiting at all the eateries and food stands, and I had to wait a long time just to drink some cold water. (On the way back to Madrid, they had no kosher meal for me to keep me going for the 11-hour flight – even though it was confirmed weeks before by the travel agent. Traveler, beware!)

At 5:30 in the morning, a huge line of angry people was waiting to board the plane. There was a shouting match with the staff of Air Europa. I guess the Spanish, like the South American Latinos, are emotional people.

We frequently hear that America is experiencing an opioid crisis, an opioid epidemic, or even a public health emergency. These terms generally refer to the sharp increase in opioid-related overdose deaths over the past five years. As most people know, opioids are a class of analgesic drugs that provide pain relief and euphoria. These drugs include commonly prescribed painkillers (Codeine, Percocet, Vicodin), heroin, and synthetic variations (Fentanyl). Last year, about 70,000 Americans died from a drug overdose, and about two thirds of these cases involved the use of opioids (often mixed with other drugs or alcohol). The rate of opioid-related overdose deaths in 2017 was six times higher than what was observed in 1999. In Maryland, about 2,000 deaths over the past year were attributed to opioids.

Arizonan Robin Meyerson jokes that her husband Charles saves bodies while she tries to save souls. He is an electrical engineer who creates pacemakers and other lifesaving medical products. She, the mother of their five children (and a grandmother), is a former corporate marketing whiz and, most recently, a motivational speaker, teacher, and author, who has made raising awareness about Jewish burial her life’s mission. How did she make that drastic leap? Robin shared her inspirational story of Divine Providence when she came to town to be a featured speaker for Project Inspire.

Can they vacuum your carpet? Check. Can they check out your grocery items? Check. Can they collect your toll fees? Check.

Robots: They’re everywhere, threatening to overtake our lives with their calm efficiency, swallowing up thousands of manual jobs. They seem so simple yet so complicated, smoothly doing what they are preprogrammed to do.

Robots are fascinating, yet we often do not see what goes on behind the scenes: the tedious job of building and programming these metallic “creatures.” Six girls in Bais Yaakov high school, supervised by Mrs. Ora Attar and Mrs. Sarena Schwartz, set out to do just that: build and program their own robot. Practically from scratch.

Driving on Park Heights Avenue towards Seven Mile Lane, I saw a familiar figure directing traffic around a stalled car in the middle of the street. Later, I asked my son-in-law, Yair Friedman, how he came to be standing there surrounded by orange cones and looking very official in a fluorescent yellow vest. I was fascinated to hear that this is part of his role as a “unit” for Chaverim. As a member of the Baltimore community I have heard about Chaverim, of course, but I was interested to hear how this organization really works and what it does. 

Yair joined the organization in January of this year and has already taken 155 calls. He was prepared for my interview with a list of statistics. Between January and April, he did 37 jump starts, 28 flat tires, eight pop-a-locks, four gas calls, six air in tires, five pull outs, and some shiva minyanim.

If the WWW hadn’t asked me to write an article about an upcoming chamber music concert – where a Rosh Kollel, Rabbi Dovid Lipson, would be playing piano – I more than likely would never have considered attending, even if I had noticed the advertisement. Although I have enjoyed classical music occasionally in the past (Dvorak comes to mind), and I have a fairly eclectic taste in music, classical music wasn’t something on my usual “playlist.” But because music itself has been on my mind these past few months – I have been preparing various articles on the subject – I was eager to speak with yet another musician, particularly one who is a Rosh Kollel, who would surely offer unusual insights. What a privilege it was to even speak with such a person!

After two years of living in Eretz Yisrael, a man came back to his Rebbe, who asked him about his experience living there. The man started by describing how beautiful and amazing it was, and then continued by saying how there was only one thing: the Arabs and how horrible they are, how they torture the Jews. The Rebbe stopped the chasid and announced that he didn’t want to hear any more. The Rebbe described how this was the very speech of the meraglim (Spies); they also came back to Am Yisrael and reported how the land was great...but the people were terrible. “Don’t criticize Eretz Yisrael at all, ever!” said the Rebbe.

On a bright Tuesday morning, not too long ago, I heard this story repeated in a shiur in the Rova (the Jewish Quarter in the Old City of Jerusalem) from Rebbetzin Malka Twerski Friedman, the Hornisteipol Rebbetzin. A surprising story, many of us in the audience thought. Isn’t that too extreme? How can one not speak out against the Arab terrorists in Eretz Yisrael?! Rebbetzin Friedman went on to explain that if the conversation fits under constructive speech: as a warning to someone, for instance, or to relieve an emotional burden, or to update others of the news so they can daven for the safety of Jews living in Israel, then it’s permissible. However, simply to chatter negatively about any facet of Eretz Yisrael is forbidden. “Eretz Yisrael has such kedusha (holiness),” Rebbetzin Friedman explained, “it has such a direct line to Hashem. He has such a special Eye on this Land. It’s not like chutz la’aretz (outside of Israel), where there are all kinds of mediaries that come between Hashem and the shefa (bounty) of the land. This is ‘Einei Hashem Elokecha Ba,’ the Eyes of Hashem are focused on it...total concentration, on Eretz Yisrael.”

So often, we read the latest news about Eretz Yisrael – whether political, social, or religious – or perhaps we are listening to someone share about a trip in Israel, and of course there are wonderful things to say. But then the conversation begins to shift and negative episodes surface, said either jokingly or critically, even when describing the weather. We are so used to freely speaking and sharing our experiences that we have to muster the ability to pause and swing into full gear when speaking about Eretz Yisrael, and remember to mention only its beauty. And that’s what I call, the real deal about Eretz Yisrael.”

My mom, Olga Grilli, a”h, gave us 90 years, but for me it was not enough. Facing debilitating renal failure, Mom didn’t want to continue treatment. But I insisted. You see, besides being a heroine to me and my sisters, Mom was part of a little-known episode in the history of the Holocaust. At age 11, she was given the gift of life, at a time when so many other Czech Jewish children never had a chance. Didn’t she owe it to them to continue to live at all costs? Or maybe I was deluding myself – I just didn’t want to let her go.

Mom fought until the end only to have her body fail her on July 4, 2018. Less than a year later, my wife Susan and I traveled to England, to the small town of Croston. We were there to dedicate a plaque honoring a couple from that town who had taken Mom in to save her from the Nazis.

Now that you know the end of the story, let me start from the beginning. Holocaust tales are never ending, and this is ours.