Everything in life has a mazal – even Yomim Tovim. Before Purim, Pesach, and Shavuos, our children have had plenty of time to learn all about the holiday and come home with binders full of divrei Torah, projects, and catchy songs. Compare this to the Yomim Tovim in Tishrei, when four holidays plus one minor fast are packed into one month.

Most years, school doesn’t even begin until halfway through Elul. At the beginning of the year, the children are getting settled into routines; the focus is on preparing students so they can learn all year. (Woe to the teacher who skips this important step.) This leaves the teachers only a few days to teach some of the most important concepts in Judaism.

This calendar was set by G-d, so we can’t blame teachers for poor planning. We can, however, see what we as parents and teachers can learn from situation.

To the Shadchan:

My daughter got engaged. She is very happy, and we are happy with the young man. The problem is that our family is more modern than that of her fiancé. Now that we are planning the wedding with his parents, I find that we are not on the same page about anything. The first point of contention is the date. I feel I need a year to prepare properly. The other side wants it as soon as three months from now. They also want everything very scaled down. This is our first child to get married, and we want a beautiful affair. The only simchas we have made were bar and bat mitzvas, which were very elegant. I know I can be a little over the top, but that’s who we are, and so are our neighbors and relatives. That’s what people expect in our circles.

I’m okay with paying more to bring my vision to life. But his family seems to be philosophically opposed to what they call a “fancy” wedding. We are fighting about everything: the date, the kind of hall, the invitations (and whether to ask people to “dress in accordance with Orthodox tradition”), the style of music and dancing, and the height of the mechitza.

Hooray for Sukkos! I love eating outside in the fresh air, smelling the freshly-mowed grass, and enjoying family time. Our sukkah fits on our porch and is easy to enter right through the porch door. I like to think of Sukkos as a time to remember what’s important – that we have everything we need at this very moment, and we’re together as a family. Making family time fun and meaningful is always on my to-do list. To that end, here’s an activity that you and your kids – even your neighbors and friends – can do together. 

Mini-Sukkah Centerpiece 

I love crafts that my kids can do to get ready for the holidays, especially if they can eat them! This sukkah is relatively easy to put together, and there are many options. The ingredients are limited only by your imagination. If you have the time (and patience), you can take your kids to the candy store or candy aisle and have them pick out their own decorations. If you decide to go a quicker route, with all “prefabricated” materials, your sukkah building will be done in a “Klik” – like our Klik sukkah that is put together very easily. If you choose to make your own cookies, you need a recipe that doesn’t spread (one is provided below). I find the store-bought icing to be stiff enough to hold the cookies together. Or you can make your own with the recipe below. 

What could make a group of Jewish professionals – with all the stresses and hassles their busy lives entail – go halfway across the world? If you answered a free 10-day vacation to an exotic location with gorgeous beaches, guess again! Could such a trip be a “bucket-list” item, perhaps? A once-in-a-lifetime African safari jaunt? No, that answer would be incorrect as well. This may have been a once-in-a-lifetime trip, but the payoff wasn’t sand, sun, and fun.

 We all know Jewish men and women, the world over, who will drop anything, at a moment’s notice, and travel to the farthest-flung country to help a Jew or non-Jew in distress, no matter observance level or political ideology. We have seen and continue to see all these wonderful people respond to chaos across the world, when people are at their most vulnerable after a terrible life event, even outside of Eretz Yisrael – places such as Houston, New Orleans, Long Island, New York, India, the Philippines, and many others.

Art Buchwald, the renowned writer/humorist, once remarked, “Whether it’s the best of times or the worst of times, it’s the only time we’ve got.”

How true. Time rolls over us like a runaway train, and here we are again: another Rosh Hashanah, another Yom Kippur – and (lehavdil) another end of the Major League baseball season.

While certainly not in the same category as our High Holy Days, the World Series is an event with universal implications of its own. One year, they intersected in a meaningful way. I can’t help but recall Sandy Koufax and what he meant to American Jews as the baseball player who never forgot his faith. During Game One of the classic 1965 World Series between the Yankees and the Dodgers, Sandy Koufax, one of the greatest pitchers of all time, spent his scheduled turn on the mound not on a baseball diamond but in a synagogue seat. 

Dear Dr. Weisbord,

My daughter, who lives out of town, had a baby recently, and I went to help. I watched her three little boys for many hours. It was the first time I was left alone with them. My oldest grandchild, whom I find difficult to handle, was very chutzpadik to me, fought with his siblings, and did not listen to anything I said.

It happens that the birthdays of all three children were next month. I told him that I would be giving a present to his brothers but not to him because he was misbehaving. This threat did not help, and he continued to misbehave.

I bought birthday presents for the other children and mailed them, but I did not buy one for him. Perhaps I should not have made the threat, but since I did, I felt I had to follow through. Do you think I handled this situation properly? Was I too harsh? Did I overstep my bounds as a grandmother in being the disciplinarian?

In the aftermath of this incident, I am also trying to figure out what my relationship with my grandchildren should be, especially when I am left in charge. How can I be the loving bubby in my grandchildren’s minds?

Needs Bubby Lessons

When I was single, I stayed with my brother and sister-in-law for Yom Kippur every year. They lived next door to a yeshiva, and I much preferred the yeshiva-style davening to the standard synagogue service. While I typically wasn’t the most fervent shul-goer, Yom Kippur was different. I was present when davening started and there when it ended.

I managed to tap into the intensity of the day: the dread of Kol Nidrei, the heartfelt pleas of vidui, the emotion-packed crescendo of the room exploding at the end of Neilah with “Hashem hu ha-Elokim,” and the euphoria of the declaration, “Leshana haba biYerushalayim!”

I was very comfortable in my Yom Kippur routine. Year after year, I sat in the same seat, wearing the same Steve Madden (non-leather) slides, using the same machzor, anticipating the tune that was coming next. As I traveled the familiar and yet always emotional journey that is Yom Kippur, I had the full confidence of knowing that I was exactly where I needed to be in that moment, doing what I needed to be doing. I was in shul. Because that is what you do on Yom Kippur.

Despite the plethora of day schools and yeshivos in the Baltimore-Greater Washington area, not every Jewish elementary, middle, and high school student is fortunate enough to attend a school where he or she can connect with other Jewish students and learn about our heritage. But, thanks to a handful of organizations that are successfully reaching out to these students, many Jewish children are now able to appreciate the beauty of Yiddishkeit in a fun way while forming lasting, meaningful friendships.

Hep JEP

JEP Girls of Maryland, a branch of the national Jewish Education Program, is one of these outreach organizations. Started in 2010 with just four participants, over 450 school-aged Jewish girls, as well as volunteers, have participated in JEP to date. They come from over 40 schools, mostly Baltimore County but also from all across Maryland and even Pennsylvania,

The moon is a beautiful heavenly body that is often mentioned in our prayers. And if you are a shul-goer, you know that, once a month, the gabbai of the shul announces the appearance of the levuneh, the new moon, and the congregation goes outside to welcome it. They chant prayers honoring the moon with blessings and pleading with G-d for a long life of peace, happiness, vigor, sustenance, and honor in this new month – a life dedicated to love of the Torah and the fear of sin. This is called Kiddush Levuneh.

More than a few years ago, the moon was mentioned in a song that many Yidden sang or hummed. The song was “Shayn vee dee Levuneh,” and if you remember the tune to the song, you get a free pass to a geriatric center. If not, you can listen to the Barry Sisters’ version on YouTube. Several other musical groups sang the melody as well. The writers were Joseph Rumshinsky and Chaim Tauzberg, Yiddelach, of course.

“In one era and out the other.” It’s a clever title, no? Unfortunately, I did not think it up. It was the title of a book by humorist Sam Levenson. If you never heard of him, it is a sign of your youth. He was a former school teacher who made a career out of writing funny books comparing the world of his youth to the present. He was writing around the year 1960. That date would encompass the world of my youth! I guess many of us, when we pass a certain age, recall (with varying levels of accuracy) how the world has changed.

* * *

The first president I recall as a child was Dwight David Eisenhower. He was a hero of World War II, married to quiet, dowdy Mamie. General Eisenhower was actually offered the opportunity to run as a Democrat or as a Republican. He chose the latter and brought the party to victory after five Democratic election victories from 1933 to 1952. (Franklin Delano Roosevelt was elected four times but died three months into his fourth term. Truman took over and was elected to a full term.) This was the early 1950s. The country was tired of the Depression and of war – both World War II and the Korean War – and sought a grandfatherly figure who was acceptable to all. I recall that one of the main complaints about his opponent, Adlai Stevenson, was that he was divorced. ‘If a man can’t control his wife, how can he control the country?” was something I heard as a young kid.