Whenever I drive down Greenspring Avenue, past the Sinai ER, on the way to the zoo, I glance to the left to see the old Bais Yaakov high school building, and say to my grandchildren, “Look, that is where I went to school!” The old mansion that housed our high school, built at the time of the Civil War, is still standing, though hard to recognize because the surrounding area has changed so much. The driveway that led to the school is no longer there, and the elementary building has been knocked down to make room for a housing development.

Since my daughter is finishing Bais Yaakov this year, and we are immersed in the rituals of graduation, I started reminiscing about the school I attended more than 40 years ago. Bais Yaakov has been established in the community for so long that some of its graduates have children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren attending the same school they did. Sometimes they even have the same teachers. I spoke to women who attended Bais Yaakov High School in the ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s to hear about their memories of high school life.

When I was a yeshiva student, the attitude at one yeshiva I attended was, “Don’t read newspapers; they’re a waste of time.” At another yeshiva I attended, the attitude was, “Read newspapers; you’ll be informed.” Forty years later, I do read newspapers, but I sometimes feel like I’ve wasted my time.

Israel has just completed another democratic election, and the Right and religious parties won, 67 seats to 53 (the latter including 13 Arab mandates), even if the Left-leaning Israeli media did not want them to. Their victory is not really news, in the man-bites-dog sense. For 38 years, since Menachem Begin’s victory in 1977, the Right wing, supported by the religious, have dominated Israeli politics. Even in the Oslo “victory” of 1992, the Right and religious won in terms of the popular vote. Politically, as far as our relationship with our Arab neighbors goes, the fact is that fewer and fewer Israelis are seeking for us to commit suicide or dig our own graves, and religiously, the majority of Israelis are supportive, or at least not “anti.”

When Elena Tal was single, living in New York City, and just beginning to become frum, she auditioned for a prestigious opera company. After anxiously awaiting the results, she found out that she had been accepted to join the company and be a part of this amazing opportunity.
 

“I figured I could be one of the first Jewish professional artists in the secular world who would be able to keep Shabbos and kosher while simultaneously having a successful performing career,” reminisces Elena. “After all, how hard could that be?”

It was very hard, as Elena soon discovered. Although she had always been nervous to stand out or make waves, Elena forced herself to speak to the non-Jewish director immediately. “I explained that I was religious and observed the Sabbath, and I would not be able to rehearse or perform from Friday night to Saturday night.”

It was dinner hour that hot summer evening: my mother, father, and I gathered around the black-and-white TV – there was no color television back in 1965 – watching the city burn. The Watts Riots lasted five days, and my father would emerge from them a changed man.

Los Angeles is huge geographically – and Watts was an hour away by car – but I, an eight-year-old little girl, was terrified.

“Don’t go!” my mother cried to my father.

When people set a goal which they fail to achieve, they sometimes experience a sense of failure – unless, of course, they can see the silver lining. Perhaps it is the silver lining that was supposed to be the goal in the first place, but due to our limited understanding, we don’t realize it. About seven years ago, my husband and I put tremendous effort, energy, and resources into a community project that didn’t turn out the way we had envisioned. However, we realized there was a silver lining. Her name was Anne.

Some of you might recall Anne. She was an older woman with shockingly white, shoulder-length hair. As she carried her belongings with her, she could be found waiting at bus stops, walking on Park Heights, or in the shuls. Anne generally kept to herself, rarely speaking to others unless they spoke to her first.

Supporting Christians in the Middle East is Zionism

Significant public discussion began last week around Israel’s and the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) commitment and mobilization to assist the wounded and missing from the earthquake in Nepal.

A large IDF delegation left for the disaster area in Kathmandu and within a few days they established a field hospital as well as a system for locating missing Israelis in cooperation with the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Of course, the results were not long in coming. Nearly all the Israelis were located, many of them were evacuated to Israel, and the IDF’s Medical Corps field hospitals have provided medical services to thousands of Nepalese victims wounded during the initial earthquake and its aftershocks.

Many years ago, when I first visited Israel, I did not have any close family there, and the term mishpacha, to me, meant the Jewish people. When I visit today, it still means that, but, in addition, three of our married children made aliyah, and they and quite a number of grandchildren live in Eretz Yisrael. So, now, visiting mishpacha means so much more. That’s why, when Feigi and I heard about an incredibly inexpensive ticket to Israel –$385 roundtrip on Transaero through Moscow – we made a quick decision to go for Purim.

Who would have imagined, one generation ago, that nonstop scheduled flights would be winging between Moscow and Tel Aviv, and that you would be served kosher food under the hashgacha of the Chief Rabbi of Russia, Berel Lazar!

Are you enabling your child’s anxiety? Read these stories about Baruch and Rachel and their families’ efforts to deal with their anxiety.

Baruch, 10 years old, had recently seen a boy throw up in school. Baruch started to fear that he too might get sick during school hours and throw up. Every day, he attempted to convince his parents to allow him to stay home. His mother Rivka would get him out the door by reassuring him that she was absolutely certain that he would not throw up and that if he got nervous during the day he could call home. Invariably, Boruch would call home a couple of times during the day, because he didn’t feel confident that the food he ate during snack time and lunch would stay in his stomach. Rivka would again reassure him on the phone that she was absolutely certain that he would make it through the day without throwing up.

Year after year, I ask myself why I am doing shlissel challa. This is the custom of inserting a key into the challa dough for the Shabbos after Pesach. It wasn’t always that way.

When I attended Bais Yaakov of Baltimore, there was not much emphasis on segulos (protective rituals). Reb Yonason Eibshutz was mentioned in our Jewish history class only once as a Rav in the 1700s who had a dispute with Rav Yaakov Emden about cameas, amulets. It was explained to us that we do not use cameas nowadays. I got a similar answer about another esoteric subject. When I asked my father, Rabbi Moshe Shuvalsky, as well as Rabbi Steinberg, z”l, our principal, to explain gilgul neshamos (reincarnation), they both told me that it exists, but we do not delve into it, because we are concerned with keeping the Torah in this world.

To the Shadchan:

I am recently married and living in New York. Remembering my days as a single, I have started setting up people. I’ve noticed that many men do not want to travel to date. These are mostly working guys, aged 25 to 35, who live in New York and have never been married. I have suggested women who live out of town, and their response was, “I will only date women in New York.” Some men go as far as to tell me that they will only date women who agree to meet them in Manhattan, where they work.