For much of Jewish history children were sent away from home at very young ages, even before bar mitzvah, to learn in other cities. In Europe, before the war, traveling was difficult, and boys sometimes did not see their families for long periods of time. Today, in Baltimore, we are fortunate to have many choices of high schools, and families do not have to make that difficult choice.

One of the rebbeim I talked to for the purpose of this article explained, “There is a great advantage to having younger teenagers, during the turbulent period when they are maturing, close to their families. They can have the support and love of their mothers and the good example of their fathers. They can be raised by their parents rather than by their roommates! That way, the yeshiva is in partnership with the parents.” He continued, “Rav Shach felt it was very important that every city in Eretz Yisrael have a yeshiva for boys where they could live at home until they were at least 16.”

To help parents make the choice of where to send their eighth-grade sons next year, I contacted these schools to get some of the details.

I walked by my dining room just now and closed an open drawer. It was from a little table we bought after moving here a few years ago. I needed it for my leichter, and it was a chore finding just the right one. I learned that what I was looking for is called a console table and searched high and low but couldn’t find one that fit the very small space that I had for it. I remember feeling pleased when my search was finally over – and even happier when the table fit perfectly in the spot where it needed to go.

The console table has three drawers, which I had no intention of using when I first bought it. But wouldn’t you know: Those drawers are now stuffed to the gills. Well, I could argue that they’re filled with necessary things that I use when I light my candles every Friday night. One drawer holds boxes of wicks, another the book of brachas I say for Shabbos and Yom Tov, and the last one contains lighters, matches, and tea lights – all things needed for candle lighting. I wondered as I closed the drawer where I would have put all those things if I didn’t have that cute little console table. Frankly, I just can’t imagine.

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

 Shemiras halashon – observing the Torah laws of proper speech – is among the basic obligations of a Jew striving for care in performance of mitzvos. This has especially been so in klal Yisrael since the Chofetz Chaim published his sefer on the halachos of shemiras halashon nearly 150 years ago. While the halachos of Hashem are immutable, the methods of communication have definitely changed in significant ways in modern times. The invention of the telephone in 1876 was arguably the first invention which made shemiras halashon relevant to modern methods of communication. In today’s world, we can add email, social media, and all forms of electronic communication to the list of communication methods that are subject to the halachos of shemiras halashon.

The Chofetz Chaim dedicates the last chapter of the halachos of Lashon Hara to the halachos of toeles: conveying negative information for a constructive purpose. We have all heard about its application to shidduchim. Other examples that the Chofetz Chaim gives are taking on a business partner or making a loan. There is another area in which these halachos become quite relevant: when passing information about the services of a professional or the purchase of merchandise from a vendor. This article will examine what halacha has to say with regards to passing information about these different providers.

We will now give some case studies through which to examine these halachos:

For many years, Mr. Greenberg* wrote a Torah book every year, which he sent out to a specific mailing list. He built up a following of people who looked forward to getting the book each year and responded generously. The money was used to support a yeshiva. Mr. Greenberg was very proud of the money that he was able to raise, and said that his books brought in more money than any other donor to the yeshiva.

When I think of my father, Chonon Shugarman, a”h, an anecdote that he shared with us, his family, arises in my mind. That is of my father as a little boy, sucking on a candy ever so slowly, trying to keep the moment of pleasure for as long as possible. His love for life and enjoyment of the wonders of this world led my father to explore a question that he entertained even as a youngster – which was what happens after death? None of the adults around him were able to give my father an adequate answer to his persistent question. Born into a traditional family and attending Baltimore public schools, my father’s search for truth was aided by the Hebrew School he attended. By the time he reached bar mitzva, he was already keeping Shabbos and kashrus as best as he could. Later, Harav Moshe Heinemann, shlita, as well as the community surrounding TA, Etz Chaim Center, and his co-worker Chaim Pollock contributed to his becoming a proper Orthodox Jew.

Having a baby is always an exciting event, and while no two births are the same, after a few births, many women feel a certain level of comfort. They think that they know what to expect. Well, that changed when COVID reared its ugly head. I personally found my last birth and hospital stay to be a very different experience than the previous ones. I decided to ask some friends and neighbors for their say on the matter.

I recently ran my first marathon, and it struck me how much learning and growth goes into such an experience. Funny how I have likely planned and trained more for this than for my wedding, having kids or any other life changing event. I’ve learned so many lessons, and have journaled them on my blog. Here they are:

Run your own race: Someone from our local frum community organized a weekly group to focus on speed work. At this group, it was easy to fall into the feeling of having to “keep up” or wondering why I couldn’t go as fast as someone else. But my friend wisely counseled me, saying, “You have to run your own race.” What a life lesson. We need to stop all the comparison, being someone or doing something because others expect it, because others are doing it. In this life, it’s only our own race that matters.

I cam to learn in Eretz Yisroel after three years of beis medrash (post-high school). I grew up in Lakewood, New Jersey, and, like most