I work in an inner-city neighborhood as a speech pathologist. I teach three- and four-year-old toddlers how to talk. Speech therapy sessions take place in the family home, usually with the mother, child, and me. I bring the toys, and we play. Somehow, by talking about what the child is engaged in, through modeling, repetition, and using single words, a light switch turns on, and in a short time, the child begins talking. It’s amazing and gratifying.

The mothers and I often have a very good relationship. They are kind and respectful to me, often referring to me as Ma’am, as in “Yes, ma’am.” I am kind and respectful to them. When I arrive at the client’s house, I greet the child and his mother with a hearty hello. I tune in to the child with love and kindness, much the same way as I would treat my own grandchildren. I ask the parent how they are doing and really listen to what they have to say. When explaining my treatment methods to them, I am patient and understanding. In short, I am sincerely kind to them. I find being kind with sincerity, goes a long way. After a few sessions, the family acts like they are glad to see me; they smile and treat me with like a friend, and their children run to the door to greet me.

One of the highlights of writing this monthly article is that I get to connect with wonderful parents, grandparents, and teachers in our community who come over to discuss some of the ideas I have shared. I recently wrote an article about the importance of teaching vocabulary in Limudei Kodesh and had some fascinating conversations on the topic of Hebrew language learning. I’d like to share some of my thoughts to include all of you in the ongoing discussion.

Many of us have had the same question: How come students who have spent 12 years in a yeshiva cannot speak Hebrew fluently? While I cannot impart any scientific research on this question, I can share some experiences that have helped me understand the issue.

As a writer, one of the perks of being on numerous WhatsApp and email groups is the opportunity to poll fellow members, as I did recently when I requested menorah stories and photos of “creatively made, makeshift, and otherwise unique and special Chanukah menorahs.” It turned into a trip down Menorah memory lane for many. Others shared amazing stories of keeping the flickering flame of Chanukah alive during oppressive times. Some noted interesting menorahs they have seen – constructed of everything from surf boards to skis to Legos to candy, pipes, bottle caps, shot-glasses, baby food jars, sculpted ice, Smores, and donuts.

In keeping with WWW’s Chanukah theme, it was a true miracle that I was able to gather so much interesting material in so short a time!

Have you heard that dogs are man’s best friend? While exploring the origins of this expression, I came across a Yiddish expression about dogs, which states that it’s a huntisher velt, a dog’s world. The huntisher expression has various meanings, depending on how it is said. On the one hand, it can mean that things are average; on the other hand, it can mean that things are teef ihn drerd, not so great.

Dogs are very popular pets and have been credited with saving human lives – no small accomplishment! At the same time, they have maimed and even killed human beings. So what does our expression mean? Nu, you may respond, voss hakst do ah chinik (why are you prattling)? Let’s explore a little and find out about dogs.

We who live in the United States can’t help but associate the month of December with gift giving. From brochures that come in the mail to internet ads, billboards, and radio jingles – we are constantly reminded to buy gifts.

We Jews also give gifts on Chanukah. Is this a reflection of what we see around us? Are we caught up in the “spirit of the season” and just copying the goyim?

No. Giving Chanuaka gelt (money) and, by extension, gifts is a very old tradition, not related to the month of December.

Editor’s note: We received this letter and submitted it to Mesila of Baltimore’s Josh Hurewitz for a reply.

Dear Editors,

I’m not sure which of your columns would handle a situation like this. It’s about both money and shidduchim. I’ve always considered myself an average kind of guy. I’ve worked hard for most of my life. My parents, a”h, were not wealthy. I went to yeshivas but couldn’t afford to stay long in kollel after I got married since my wife’s family wasn’t wealthy either. I got a college degree through student loans, and my salaried jobs have, b”H, allowed me to pay tuitions, marry off some of my children in a modest, balabatish way, and help out the ones who are in kollel as much as I could. My wife has no degree, but she also works hard to help pay the bills.

This past Sukkos, our family had a rare opportunity to spend Sukkos together in Yerushalayim. Our sons Akiva and Meir are learning there in beis medrash, and our son Dovid and his wife Arielle, in their shana rishona, are part of the Toras Moshe kollel. I looked around and found inexpensive tickets on Aeroflot for ourselves and our two girls, Tamar and Shalva. We would be staying in Yerushalayim, where one of the many wonderful women I have met over my years with the Jewish Women’s Renaissance Project, now called Momentum, invited us to use her beautiful home in Yemin Moshe.

These past few months, I have been writing a series of articles about substance abuse as a part of Chayeinu organization’s efforts to provide education and guidance to our community regarding substance use disorder. While we might wish it were otherwise, substance abuse is not a stranger to our community. The unfortunate fact is that there is a strong probability that our children will drink or use drugs before graduating high school. The numbers in the United States are persuasive and alarming. Before completing high school, 60 percent of teenagers report drinking alcohol, 40 percent report vaping nicotine, 40 percent report smoking marijuana, and 20 percent report smoking traditional cigarettes. About 15 percent report using illicit drugs other than marijuana. And these are only the kids who choose to talk about their substance use!

I couldn’t help but wonder, as I turned into the Seven Mile Market parking lot, how a semi-retired Hopkins nephrologist morphed into an environmental ecologist. Dr. Devorah Rivka Gelfand is not only passionate about her newest life calling; she has inspired others to jump on the bandwagon. The goal of “Cherish the Earth-Bal Tashchis” (www.cherishtheearth-baltashchis), the non-profit organization she founded, is education about and promotion of Torah-based environmental conservation to the Baltimore Jewish community.

When I arrived at the “Cherish the Earth” Environmental Expo booth outside Seven Mile Market on November 3, I was greeted by Jonathan Libber and Dr. Gelfand’s husband Shlomo. It was one of three such booths around town. The others were in front of Market Maven and Shoppers.

“Let’s go to Grandma’s house!” Although it sounds like a quote from “Little Red Riding Hood,” it’s a call voiced by kids everywhere yearning for the tenderness of a doting bubby who is always ready to stuff you with her homemade goodies. Oh, how my mouth still waters for some of Grandma’s marvelous apple pie with just the right amount of jelly oozing out at the edge of the crust. And what a treat it was to be there when her yummy honey cookies came out of the oven. Who didn’t have a grandmother who made the best gefilte fish, not to mention challah every Friday. My late mother followed Grandma’s challah recipe, and said, each time, “It’s not like Grandma’s.”

But her loving kindness and palatable delights were only a few of the reasons I loved visiting my grandmother Eva Friedman, a”h.