“I like davening the best,” says Mordechai Cohen, a familiar figure at Seven Mile Market’s bagging stations.

I was in a TAG classroom at Gesher LaTorah one Sunday morning about a month ago, watching Mrs. Shoshana Pepper conduct a lively class with the help of two sign language interpreters and a one-on-one aide. The nine students introduced themselves to me, and we chatted about their favorite part of the program. Mordechai’s classmate, May Steinberg, a Levindale Household volunteer, said that she enjoys “learning different things and getting things out of it.” And Rivka Abrams’ favorite activity is drawing.

We all know that lending fellow Jews money is a great mitzva, and the Jews of Baltimore are indeed generous when approached for a loan. Moreover, it is not only the rich who are fulfilling this mitzva; those of limited means often lend to friends and family as well. Unfortunately, fewer people know of the other aspect of this mitzva: You do not have to lend to someone who does not have a credible way to repay the loan. In fact, such a person is not allowed to borrow the money.

I have recently become aware of the extent of borrowing and lending going on in our community, because many of the lenders have been unable to collect. This sad fact leads me to the purpose of this article and some advice: If someone requests that you lend them money, use extreme caution!

I was a kid who dreaded doctor appointments, who would go into the exam room literally shaking, the last kid anyone would have expected to grow up and become a bone marrow or stem cell donor. Whenever I needed blood work or an injection, they would have to enlist extra nurses to hold down my arms, because I couldn’t be trusted not to fight back. My mom used to joke with the doctor that I really made her earn her salary. Worse, Mom used to tease me that if she ever got remarried, she was going to marry a phlebotomist.

Fast forward to 2009. I had just started college, and there was a blood drive on campus. It seemed like all my friends were participating, but I was still terrified of needles and couldn’t see myself volunteering to get stuck with one. Flyers for the blood drive were all over campus, though, and I started to feel guilty. I knew that there was a worldwide shortage of blood and that, because I was young and healthy, I was an ideal donor. I decided it was time to get over this “baby stuff.” As it turned out, that was easier said than done.

The news this past year has been daunting – that is as calm a word as I can come up with for what Israel has endured. From the brutal murder of three innocent Israeli teenagers, to the constant barrage of rockets coming at Israelis from all corners, to the land invasion that cost so many young Israeli soldiers their lives, to the new terrorist group with its far-reaching arm that has no moral values whatsoever.

Not only that, but the media reports just seem to keep coming at breakneck speed. Every minute an article is posted about a new anti-Semitic incident somewhere in the world – be it in France, South Africa, or a college campus in America. I am constantly checking my email for updates of unfolding situations.

Seventy years ago, on April 29, 1945, Dachau concentration camp was liberated. My father, may he be well, now 90 years old, was there. The death camp was filled with Jews who had survived the sadistic circumstances under the gun sights of Nazi guards. My father’s presence there was not as an inmate but on the right side of a rifle: a young American soldier whose regiment entered the camp in pursuit of the fleeing Nazis. His war experience was from the unique perspective of a soldier, a liberator, and an American but, most poignantly, as a Jewish boy from Philadelphia.

Dear Mr. Weisbord,

When my husband and I were dating, we spoke about the future. We both hoped to have an open house with many guest for Shabbos, and in the beginning, we did. Then as children starting arriving, that slowly changed to one meal per Shabbos. We have a beautiful family, but one of our children is very, very hard. He is 10 years old, bright, and very cute (while sleeping), but he doesn’t listen to a word I say – not to me and not to my husband. He is very obnoxious, only cares about himself, and is mean and selfish towards his siblings. I believe Hashem gave us our other children, who are extra-special, because of this child. I do not understand how this son can be so different from everyone else, as they are all brought up under one roof.

When we bench Rosh Chodesh each month, we ask G-d to grant us a long healthy life, peace, wealth, honor, and fear of G-d. Wealth and income are included among the most important things for which we all pray, and Judaism does not consider it beneath us to petition Him for something so mundane. I thought it would be interesting to explore how families deal with their money situation on both ends of the wealth spectrum – because both groups have their challenges. On the one hand, how do you teach your children to be thrifty if you have plenty of money? On the other hand, how do you teach your children to be happy with what they have if you don’t have very much? Is your family proud of managing on a tight budget, or is it proud of spending liberally on houses, vacations, and cars?

(The authors are president and chairman, respectively, of the Religious Zionists of Philadelphia, and candidates on the Religious Zionist Slate ( www.VoteTorah.org) in the World Zionist Congress elections.)

To read the New York Times, one would think that the situation in the Judea-Samaria (West Bank) region in 2015 is the same as it was in 1985 or 1975. Israel is "occupying the West Bank," Palestinians are denied the right to vote, and Palestinian violence is inevitable because Israeli control makes them feel hopeless. That was more or less the theme of the Times' March 31 feature story on the situation in the territories today.
 

ISRAEL QUIETLY FIGHTS TERROR, AS PA STANDS IDLY BY
But the PA has made a mockery of its anti-terror obligations.

Even the New York Times, not exactly known for scrutinizing the PA's behavior, acknowledged in a March 23, 2014 news article that Israeli troops had recently been forced to enter the Jenin refugee camp in pursuit of terrorists because although Jenin is under the "full control" of the Palestinian Authority, "the Palestinian [security forces] did not generally operate in refugee camps."
 

“You’re beautiful, but you’re empty...One couldn’t die for you. Of course, an ordinary passerby would think my rose looked just like you. But my rose, all on her own, is more important than you hundreds of other roses; because it is she that I have watered… she that I have sheltered behind the screen…Because she is my rose.” (The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery)

I couldn’t help thinking of this passage from the beautiful classic, The Little Prince, as I stood in my kitchen a week before Pesach, a toothpick in my hand and a bucket of one-third bleach and two-thirds cleanser at my feet.

Life is so interesting, so full of adventures waiting to happen, and here I am, aching and tired, racing towards the deadline of bedikas chametz night. Hashem, is this really what You want me to be doing? Is my destiny really meant to be about obsessing over a breadcrumb that has escaped under the vegetable bin?