In the previous articles of this series, I have generally taken a concept from hashkafa, how we should lead our lives, and used it to understand how to better deal with eating issues. This month, we are going to try to learn something from eating that we can apply to the rest of our lives.

In the recently published book, A Divine Madness, from a manuscript written by Rav Avigdor Miller and edited by Daniel Zaslow, my “antennae” for eating-related themes perked up at this statement: “The loyal Jewish Nation had always considered the Torah as eternal, coming from the Eternal

To the Editor,

I very much enjoyed the article by Eli W. Schlossberg about Rabbi Steinberg, z”l. As a former Bais Yaakov student, it brought back memories and highlighted aspects of his personality that were not often brought out in other articles I’ve read. One of these was his simchas hachaim (joyfulness). My husband remembers spending Shabbos in his house, and told me that he was singing the whole Shabbos.

Most of the time, Rabbi Steinberg was dignified and very proper – he always called us by our last names, Miss P or Miss G – but he knew how to let down and make things fun for us girls when appropriate, like during outings. I also remember that he sought the students’ opinions about school matters and built up our self-esteem. I was once in his office when he called the seminary to which I had applied to make sure I was accepted, and took the opportunity to praise me so I could hear it.

Way back in 1965, I was a student at Yeshiva Kerem B’Yavne and was in Yerushalayim for Simchas Torah. Since they only keep one day in Israel, they had what was called “hakafot shniyot,” hakafos on the second day of Yom Tov – with a band and with people who traveled from all over. I remember that the place was very crowded, and the speaker, whoever he was, said over the microphone, “Next year we will have more room because we will celebrate in front of the Kotel Hama’aravi.” I remember thinking that this was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard – except that he was right. Two years later, in 1967, the Jews did dance in front of the Western Wall!

Summary: With the bris over, real life with Rafael begins. Tzipora continues to grapple with her conviction to live with – and understand – emunah and bitachon. A jarring incident at a secular support group helps her realize that she should not judge the way others process grief, just as she doesn’t want others to judge her. Financial matters also come to the fore. While Rafael receives free once-a-week physical therapy from Baltimore City, the family faces mounting co-pay bills for services covered by private insurance. Maryland state law did not yet recognize the needs of families with children with disabilities, and in the Jewish community, too, there was little acknowledgment of or help for disabilities. The Fragers consider moving away from Baltimore.

Life finally settled into some semblance of normalcy. My schedule, as well as that of my toddler daughter, now revolved around Rafael’s therapy sessions. I did not go back to college to finish the BA I was working on. (I had planned to become a high school history and English teacher.) I also stopped teaching limudei kodesh at Bais Yaakov and various Hebrew schools. Instead, I attended three 90-minute physical therapy sessions per week at Mt. Washington Pediatric Hospital. That was in addition to the hour of physical therapy he received from the City once a week in our home. Each physical therapist gave me homework to do with Rafael, in hopes that he would meet the first year’s physical milestones in a timely fashion.

If you are like me, you have drawers, cabinets, and closets full of “stuff” that you no longer use but can’t bring yourself to throw out. My top excuses, in no special order, are: 1) It might come in handy one day; 2) It is still in good condition; 3) It might come back into style; and 4) It brings back memories.

What’s the answer for holding on to this stuff without looking like a packrat? With a little ingenuity, you can “repurpose” these items, making treasures out of what some people think of as trash! When our great-grandmothers unraveled sweaters for the yarn, crafted fabric scraps into a quilt, or sewed a child’s jacket out of an ancient coat, it was called frugality. Most of us would consider these activities distasteful – certainly nothing to brag about. Yet today, such frugality has returned – with a twist. It is now called “repurposing,” and it is “cool.”