Over 3,300 years ago, on the sixth day of Sivan, an event took place that altered the course of history. With bursts of thunder and lightning, a firestorm descended on a desert mountain, and at the epicenter was the holy Shechina. On this first Shavuos, Hashem revealed His glory to his young nation, and the Jewish people accepted the Torah and its mission to study it and cleave to Hashem.

But why am I telling you this? Everyone already knows about matan Torah. It is because I am often asked a certain question: Why are you learning in kollel? Despite the fact that a good percentage of our young men and women aspire to, and actually participate in, the kollel life – and although many in our community generously support it and believe in its importance – it remains a much misunderstood topic.

But where should understanding come from? All too often, those in kollel choose to remain quiet about their motivation. Perhaps they are too involved in their learning, or perhaps they feel unequipped to deal with this question, the answer to which is existential and very personal. I have been encouraged to speak up, and so I sat to down to try to articulate my thoughts. I will share them with you as answers to a series of questions:

Mrs. Chaya Lasson is Program Manager at Gilchrist Jewish Hospice Program. Here, she explains the concept of hospice and its benefits to families.

Emma Michelsohn:  How would you define hospice to someone unfamiliar with it?

Chaya Lasson: It’s important to know that hospice is not a place but a philosophy. It is a specialized type of personalized care that is completely centered around the needs of the patient and the patient’s family. The main idea is that care should be personal as each patient has a situation that it completely unique to him or her alone. With hospice, a collaborative and interdisciplinary team addresses the patient’s physical needs – the hospice’s medical staff are experts at pain management – and in addition, tend to the emotional and spiritual needs of the patient and the patient’s family. This kind of inclusive care is so helpful to the patient and their loved ones, and it is unique to hospice care.

“Listen, daughter, and see, and incline your ear, and forget your people and your father’s house.” (Psalms 45:11)

I first met Chana Mejia, age 54, when she came with some of her friends to a restaurant near Tel Aviv’s boardwalk and introduced herself and friends to a tour group from Baltimore led by Rabbi Dovid Katz. She “represented” the Filipino Jewish community in Israel and delivered an inspirational message of hope and faith. Many of us were quite moved by what the soft-spoken, diminutive lady had to say, and after she spoke, Mrs. Karen Katz approached me and said, “Sam, you have to write an article about this community for the Where What When!”

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Getting a hold of Chana after that evening wasn’t easy. Finally, she suggested that I come to her upcoming Chanukah party and see the community for myself. I gladly accepted the offer.

The night of the party, I lit my menorah, grabbed a bite, and hurried off to Tel Aviv, exiting from the Ayalon Freeway onto the Kibbutz Galuyot ramp, where I made a right turn onto the main thoroughfare, Lechi Street. The adjoining side streets were dimly lit. The few people I saw outside didn’t even look Jewish: an Eritrean on a bicycle and a Ukrainian dragging a pushcart. It felt like I was back in Baltimore, crossing Northern Parkway, and I was nervous. Welcome to Hatikva, a rundown, working class neighborhood in Tel Aviv. The one-story dwellings were bunched together and quite modest, but the streets and sidewalks were clean. After making a U-turn, I made a right on Hatikva Street (how apropos!) and parked down the block. Then I searched for an address – she said it was near the community center – going through a maze of dark alleyways.

Ruthie and Menachem Schwartz* have five children in day schools and yeshivas who are thriving. An additional child of theirs, Ari, age 16, has not been doing as well. He’s been suffering for the past three years from a form of skin cancer that, after a short remission, has been getting worse. The Schwartzes are beside themselves with worry but don’t know where to turn. Nothing seems to be helping on a long-term basis. They don’t know anyone in the community who has faced this difficult challenge and feel very isolated in their suffering.

Fearing the stigma associated with this serious disease, they have avoided making his condition known, trying to spare their other children the embarrassment of being known as the siblings of a child with this challenge. They are especially concerned that if word gets out, their daughter next in line to marry will be shunned for shidduchim and the younger boys will have problems getting into good yeshivas.

The time from Pesach to Shavuot, as we renew our preparation for the receiving of the Torah, is a particularly apt one to reflect on fundamental values. That becomes even more important – and difficult – in what seems to be a truly “upside-down” world, possibly the most worrisome state of affairs in quite some time.

It is consequently appropriate to dissect key ongoing trends to see whether certain patterns can be discerned, and then to see whether one can see the way ahead in some fashion.

It is not only the rapid pace of events but also their hectic tempo that are disturbing and make them hard, if not impossible, to grasp. How can one make sense of these rapid-fire events both here and abroad? Hardly a day goes by in the U.S. without some mass shooting – whether at schools, stores, or malls? Can we possibly explain those other apparent innovations of “Palestinian” terrorists – the random knifing of civilians or the use of vehicles as weapons of mass murder, in Israel, Europe, and now in Canada? Clearly, not all of these have been the work of terrorists. The latest, in Canada, so far seems not to have been. Neither was the horrendous mass shooting in Las Vegas or recent school shootings. Nevertheless, the spread and adoption of the techniques by unbalanced individuals of all stripes is new to the digital age and represents an alarming trend. The types of people who are committing these crimes were always there. They somehow did not tend to act out in this manner. It is as if some psychological barrier has been breeched, as if such behavior is now an acceptable manner to seek attention and vent feelings.

Rebbetzin Fruma Rochel Altusky has several claims to fame. Among them are her maternal grandparents, American Torah pioneers Rabbi Yaakov Yosef and Aidel Herman (of All for the Boss fame) and her illustrious parents, Harav Chaim Pinchas and Rebbetzin Basha Scheinberg. But if you ask her what she feels her biggest yichus is, she will tell you it is being the first girl to attend the very first Bais Yaakov high school in America.

Rebbetzin Altusky’s life spans three continents. She was born and spent her earliest years in Mir, Poland, where her father was learning in the yeshiva. Her parents moved to the Lower East Side of Manhattan in 1935, when she was four years old. She grew up in New York and married Rav Chaim Dov Altusky. After teach for many years in New York, the Altuskys moved to the Mattersdorf section of Yerushalayim in 1965, joining her parents after the relocation of her father’s yeshiva, Yeshivas Torah Ore.

Living with Honesty: Based on the Teachings of Harav Yisroel Belsky, zt”l, by Rabbi Moishe Dovid Lebovits and Akiva Lane (Israel Bookshop Publications 2017) is a collection of sheilas on the topic of honesty that Rabbi Yisroel Belsky, zt”l, answered during his lifetime. The approximately 500 questions and answers were compiled into book form by his talmidim. They concern everyday occurrences of modern life, such as jaywalking, aggressive driving, tipping service people, reserving domain names on the internet, and returning airport luggage carts. Just skimming through the vast variety of questions is interesting. It shows how Torah values apply to all arenas of life and are not simply relegated to theoretical learning. Another interesting point that emerges from the randomly chosen questions below is that not everything is necessarily wrong. Sometimes it is acceptable to do something that might not seem to be a hundred percent honest, because it is what is customary and expected.

It is not unusual for pulpit rabbis to run from simcha to simcha – literally! Attending a bris, engagement party, and wedding in a single day is par for the course. But on March 9, two Baltimore rabbis rose to a different kind of rabbinical running challenge.

It all began when Rabbi Moshe Hauer, Rav of Bnai Jacob Shaarei Zion, and Rabbi Binyamin Marwick, Rav of Shomrei Emunah, answered the call for “a few good clergymen.” The call was issued by Rabbi Meir Kaniel. The running-enthusiast social worker is the program coordinator of the RabbisCanRun Challenge, which was held for the second consecutive year, this time within the annual 10K Jerusalem Marathon.

A friend asked me what seemed to be a simple question: “How did you find the time to write a book?” I had a 375-page book on the topic of eishes chayil (a woman of valor) on the way to bookstores, and I had posted a snapshot of it for my friends to see.

I wanted to answer, “It was nothing; let me also show you this gorgeous chocolate dessert I whipped up while working on it. Oh, and did I show you the pictures of my boys in their matching outfits?”

Accomplishments are supposed to look easy. But the question struck me. How did I write a book? Me: mother, wife, friend. How did it get done in between Yom Tov cooking, laundry, and siddur plays? The questions sent me on a 14-year nostalgic tour.

One sunny morning I noticed a deer fressing (eating without cessation) the grass in our yard. At that time, I believed that the deer was just passing through the neighborhood, on a goodwill tour, sponsored, perhaps by the local frum deer population. However it appeared that he was looking over the area for future residence. After all, the neighborhood was filling up with shomrei Shabbos (Sabbath observers), families that fed their pets glatt kosher food. Some of the chayess (creatures) that live here were even learning Yiddish! And the deer in this neighborhood have a better chance for survival than other deer because, face it, how many Yidden are hunters? We align ourselves with Yaakov, the student, rather than with Esav, the hunter, right?

Nu, you may remark, dray nisht dehr kopp (stop confusing me). Just continue the tale! Iz azoy (so, it’s like this):