It is well known that Rav Moshe Feinstein used to complain that the halachos of tzedakah were among those about which he was asked too infrequently. Yet some of the most common shailas I get have to do with tzedakah.  

The questions I will answer in this article are: 1) May a parent use maaser money to support married children in kollel? 2) May one can pay tuition out of maaser kesafim funds? and 3) May one ask Hashem to pay him back for the tzedakah money that he gave?

I haven’t had little children in my house for a long time, but one thing I remember is the big mess that toys make. In a very short period, a clean house can look like a tsunami hit it. Pieces of toys are strewn all over the floor, and the children in the house are playing with an empty cardboard box!

Whenever I think of a topic for an article, I ask my son-in-law Avi if it says anything about this topic in the gemara. I didn’t really think there would be anything about toys in the gemara, but to my surprise, there was. Avi told me that in the gemara Yuma it talks about taking care of a young child. Abayah relates that his rebbe (and adoptive father) Rabba would buy cracked dishes for a low price to give to his children so they could have the fun of breaking them. It seems that even children in the time of the gemara liked to make a mess.

When we daven U’nesana Tokef each Yom Kippur, we recite, “Mi yichyeh u’mi yamus – who will live and who will die.” We do not know what the judgment will be, and we pray for a year of life and health. But other than davening to Hashem, what else can we do?

Over the last 40 years, the Baltimore community has helped many widows and orphans after they have unfortunately lost their husband and father, with no plan to replace the lost parnassa that the deceased had been providing for the family. I have been involved, too often, in helping raise these needed funds. Many millions have been raised, and tzedakahs like Avigdor’s Helping Hand, a New York-based tzedakah organization, and our local Ahavas Yisrael Charity Fund have provided tzedakah to these mishpachos. Rabbi Boruch Brull, the executive director of Ahavas Yisrael, has been at the forefront of many of these efforts.

Tatty, z”l, was larger than life. He excelled in so many areas. Unfortunately this article only has limited space. We have therefore picked only a minimum from each area.

Oseik B’tzarchei Tzibur B’emunah

Although Tatty was the gabbai, his devotion to the shul was so much greater than that. Once Tatty saw R’ Weiss cleaning some crumbs off a table; this bothered Tatty greatly. How could we allow the Rav of the shul to be the janitor of the shul?! From then on, Tatty took over all the needs of the shul, from making sure that there were paper towels to stocking styrofoam cups for early morning coffee. I remember him taking me along to pick up milk, coffee, etc. and bring them to the shul. He never came during zmanei tefillah so that he wouldn’t receive public recognition for his dedication. The switching of the paroches for the Yamim Noraim was also done with Tatty’s own two hands. It would be a shame not to mention that Mommy had a big hand in the shul as well as she was the dedicated shul secretary at R’ Weiss’ shul for many years.

In 2005, The Shidduch Center of Baltimore, then known as Kol Simcha, was established as one of the first and earliest pioneering shidduch initiatives worldwide. B’chasdei Hashem, since that time, it continues to be a leader in the field as communities across the globe regularly reach out, seeking guidance on how best to cultivate and institute shidduch initiatives of their own. Furthermore, in doing so, we have been able to network with shidduch initiatives across North America for the collective and mutual benefit of all our communities. Over this span of time, encapsulating the better part of 20 years, The Shidduch Center has constantly questioned itself, reevaluated itself, and reconstituted itself, as we seek at all times to remain ahead of the curve in an ever-changing shidduch landscape. Thanks to tremendous siyata d’Shmaya, since our last restructure in late 2015, we have set up over 1,600 different couples from our community on dates, resulting in 156 completed shidduchim.

We drove down winding roads with sprawling farms and rolling hills in Western Maryland on our way to visit Falling Waters, the house designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. I’d never been to that part of Maryland and was in awe of the beauty as we drove to our destination.

It was a lovely couple of days out there, a much needed break from everything that had been falling down around our ears lately. They were all good things, mind you, but they took up a lot of our mental energy, which can be as difficult as expending physical strength.

Our summer project was to settle my parents into their new home. Thankfully, they are happy now, but I spent a lot of time worrying whether this would ever happen. It was an adjustment on all of our parts. My parents had to work out many details of settling into a new city. They didn’t count on the merry-go-round that customer service situations often turn into. My parents weren’t used to spending hours on the phone to get basic services like newspaper delivery or telephone connections. And I didn’t realize that every one of their worries would become one of mine, too.

 My father Rabbi Sholom Weingot, z”l, was one of Hashem’s incredible gifts to the world. In his almost 50 years of chinuch and counseling, he impacted so many people in so many ways. He knew how to connect to the young and old, all stripes of humanity and he understood what different people appreciated and what gave them strength. He brought simcha to people’s lives through songs, jokes, and stories, and gave renewed hope and confidence when life was tough. 

There are so many facets to my father’s personality. He exemplified ahavas Yisrael, ahavas Hashem, ahavas haTorah, extreme patience and sensitivity, and a unique joy of life. My mother shared many times during shiva that my father never spoke a negative word about a person because he only saw the good in people. He loved peace and chased peace wholeheartedly.

As a very American high school graduate, raised in a frum New York family, I arrived at Ner Yisrael planning to stay one year in full-time yeshiva. My life was all planned out. I already had a scholarship to a good college in New York City and was the winner of a New York State Regents Scholarship, which would provide me with extra money while attending college. I planned to combine my daily college attendance with some yeshiva education while I achieved my B.A. degree, probably with a major in psychology, and then I intended to pursue my professional career: either to attend graduate school and become a psychologist or, more likely, to attend a top law school and become an attorney.

Administrator, Baltimore Bais Din

Reviewed By Rabbi Mordechai Shuchatowitz, Head of the Baltimore Bais Din

As we approach Yom Kippur, we hope to spend our attention contemplating the theme of the day and how we can each better ourselves. One of the prominent aspects of the davening of Yom Kippur is the Viduy, when we admit to Hashem what we have done wrong throughout the year. Many of the wrongdoings mentioned in Viduy relate to different forms of improper speech.* While we often think of improper speech as being lashon hara or ona’as devarim (comments intended to hurt another), there is another, more subtle aspect to being careful with one’s speech: the obligation to keep one’s word and verbal commitment.

This subject is discussed in halacha, which gives direction as to when one must keep a verbal commitment.  Halacha views giving one’s word with seriousness. We will examine this topic through three situations that often come up in daily living.

Who goes to Iceland? Isn’t it near Greenland?

It wasn’t until recently that Iceland has become a general tourist attraction. It’s in the sub-arctic, sandwiched between England and Greenland. I had been told by people who have been there that it is a land of geysers, waterfalls, and lava fields. Although the pictures they showed me were amazing, I was still hesitant to go. I love trees, but Iceland lost its trees when Viking settlers cut down the forests that covered one-quarter of the countryside. But after being grounded by Covid for two years, and after finding that there were kosher tours of Iceland, I decided to visit two countries in one summer, first Iceland and then Switzerland. I had a vague sense that Iceland, even if it left me breathless, would leave me feeling empty.