A Wake-Up Call from Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis

(by Sara Yoheved Rigler)

Esther Jungreis was eight years old when, as an inmate of the Bergen Belsen concentration camp, starved and humiliated, she would hear the daily shouts of the Nazi officers: "Line up, you Yudishe shwinehunt [pig-dogs]!"
And, as she obeyed their commands, little Esther would think: "I'm glad I'm a daughter of the people who stood at Sinai and sealed a covenant with God to be his eternal people and live by his Torah. I'm glad I'm not a daughter of this nation of brutes."

"The atmosphere in Europe today is just like it was in 1938. In every country I went to, Jews told me that they are afraid."

This summer, Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis, one of the most charismatic speakers in the Jewish world, did a speaking tour of Europe. "I'm sorry to tell you," she declared last week in a Jerusalem interview, "that the atmosphere in Europe today is just like it was in 1938. In every country I went to, Jews told me that they are afraid, that they are experiencing virulent anti-Semitism."

Her words are underscored by last week's judicial verdicts in France of the Muslim thugs who tortured Ilan Halimi to death because, in the words of the gang leader, "he was Jewish." Most of the co-defendants got off with such light sentences that France's Minister of Justice was embarrassed into calling a retrial. But perhaps even more ominous was the audacious statement of the French prosecutor, who accused the defendants of turning "normal anti-Semitism into hateful anti-Semitism." What, indeed, defines the line between "normal" (therefore ostensibly acceptable) anti-Semitism and the "hateful" variety? Had his Muslim attackers killed Ilan without torturing him for 24 days, would that have been acceptable in 21st century France?
"Europe is becoming Eurabia," Rebbetzin Jungreis avows. "The continent is being dominated by radical Muslims who are vehemently anti-Israel. And," she cautions, "anti-Israel means anti-Jewish. It's politically correct today to be anti-Israel or anti-Zionist, rather than anti-Semitic. But if anyone has any doubts about the intentions of radical Islamists, just remember Daniel Pearl. He was not a settler, nor an Israeli, nor even actively involved in Judaism. In fact, he was married to a non-Jew. What was his crime? What his murderers made him say before they decapitated him: ‘I am a Jew.'"

The word "afraid" cannot be applied to this petite powerhouse of a woman, who at age 73 can speak on four different continents in a week and whose teaching, writing, and counseling schedule, on less than three hours of sleep a night, would wear out a person half her age. Yet, as a Holocaust survivor, Rebbetzin Jungreis is clearly troubled by a sense of déjà-vu as she regards a world silent in the face of rising anti-Semitism.

"Before and during the Holocaust, there was not one nation who spoke up for us. And today there is not one nation speaking up for us. The whole world is negotiating with despicable dictators. The more vicious the Muslim nations become, the more olive branches are thrown at their feet, and the more pressure is placed upon Israel, the only democracy in the Middle East. This pressure emanates not only from traditional anti-Semitic sources, but from our American government as well. The concessions that Washington demands of Israel are nothing short of suicidal. And yet, very few seem to care. Additionally, the administration has given the green light to Iran's nuclear power program, provided, of course, it is used only for peaceful purposes! If it weren't so tragic, it would be laughable. Don't they realize that we....nay, the entire world, heard Ahmadinejad openly proclaim his intention to wipe Israel off the map?"

The Iranian dictator's canards differed from Hitler's similar diatribes only by replacing the title "Juden" with "Zionists."

Rebbetzin Jungreis cites Ahmadinejad's September, 2008, speech to the United Nations General Assembly, in which he proclaimed: "The dignity, integrity and rights of the American and European people are being played with by a small but deceitful number of people called Zionists. Although they are a miniscule minority, they have been dominating an important portion of the financial and monetary centers as well as the political decision-making centers of some European countries and the US in a deceitful, complex and furtive manner... This means that the great people of America and various nations of Europe need to obey the demands and wishes of a small number of acquisitive and invasive people. These nations are spending their dignity and resources on the crimes and occupations and the threats of the Zionist network against their will."

Although the Iranian dictator's canards differed from Hitler's similar diatribes only by replacing the title "Juden" with "Zionists," not one member nation of the United Nations (except Israel) walked out of Ahmadinejad's speech. In fact, points out Rebbetzin Jungreis, Columbia University invited Ahmadinejad to speak. "Can you imagine inviting Hitler to speak at Columbia University?" she asks ruefully.
The very night following his U.N. invective, Ahmadinejad appeared on Larry King Live. Rather than challenging Ahmadinejad's accusations, Larry King (himself a Jew) amiably asked his guest, "How old are you? You look so young, but you already have married children." Rebbetzin Jungreis, her voice soft but her eyes flashing fire, declares: "I would have asked him some very different questions."

WHAT CAN YOU DO?
If you were a Jew in Europe in March, 1939, and somehow, magically, you knew all the horrors that were about to be perpetrated against Europe's Jews—the ghettoes, the starvation, the cattle cars, the concentration camps, the gas chambers, the death marches--, what would you do to stop it?
This was the question I recently asked a group of American college students being primed for leadership in the Jewish community. One woman raised her hand and answered, "I would alert world leaders."
I replied: "The world leader who was most sympathetic to the Jews was FDR, but as late as 1944, when he knew the worst, even FDR, as we now know, refused to bomb the train tracks to Auschwitz, an act that would have saved hundreds of thousands of Hungarian Jews." I turned to the group and asked: "How many of you think that the Jews could have been saved by alerting world leaders?" Not a single hand went up.
I invited other suggestions, and a young man offered: "There were mercenary armies in those days. I would have used Jewish money to hire a mercenary army to defend us."
"A mercenary army? Not a single standing army in Europe could defeat Hitler's juggernaut. How many of you think that the Jews could have been saved by a mercenary army?" Not a single hand went up.
"I would have warned the Jews of Europe to flee," a young woman suggested.
"To where?" I asked. "We all know that not a single country in the world, including the United States, was willing to take Jews who could still get out of Germany in 1938. Besides, numerous accounts attest that the Jews who were warned by those who escaped from cattle cars and death camps simply refused to believe that it was possible, in the 20th century, in enlightened Europe, for Jewish men, women, and children to be murdered in factories of death. As we continue to see today, the Jewish capacity for self-deception as to the intentions of our enemies is limitless."
The college students sat there silently, looking grim.
We had just viewed a clip from "The Third Jihad," a documentary about the dangers of militant Islam. "I wasn't really asking you how you could have prevented the Holocaust," I explained. "Really, I was asking you how you'll prevent the next holocaust. Is there anyone here who thinks that diplomatic or military solutions can save the six million Jews of Israel who will imminently face an Iranian nuclear bomb?"
The group was silent.

REBBETZIN JUNGREIS'S SOLUTION
The approaching fast day of Tisha B'Av commemorates the core tragedy of Jewish history: the destruction of the First and Second Holy Temples in Jerusalem. Not only was Tisha B'Av a spiritual tragedy, for the Divine Presence retreated into the inaccessibility we all experience, but also all of the physical tragedies of the 2,000-year exile, all of the Inquisitions, Crusades, pogroms, and holocausts issue from the calamity of Tisha B'Av.
The sages of the Talmud posed a curious question: What caused the Temple's destruction? These sages were chronologically as close to the destruction of the Temple as we are to the Holocaust -- a single generation. They all knew that the Romans had set fire to the Temple. Yet, they understood that whatever befalls the Jewish People is determined by God in response to our own actions. Thus the sages famously concluded that the Temple was destroyed because of our spiritual failure, because of sinat chinam, baseless hatred among Jews.

A loving father will discipline his child when he has to -- not out of anger, but out of genuine care for what's best for the child."

Likewise, Rebbetzin Jungreis points to a spiritual solution for our dire predicament. When asked how Jews today can use the rising anti-Semitism to embrace their Judaism instead of running away from it, Rebbetzin Jungreis replies: "If a Jew tries to escape his covenant with God, then God takes out wanted ads in all the newspapers: ‘WANTED: ANTI-SEMITES TO REMIND MY PEOPLE WHO THEY ARE.' And unfortunately there are always millions of volunteers. In every country, wherever you go, you will find anti-Semitism. No matter what a Jew does, his obligation to the Covenant will pursue him. Many Jews in Hungary before World War II had converted to Christianity. When we were being shoved in the cattle cars a woman was screaming to the Nazi guard, 'I'm not a Jew!' He just pushed her with his rifle butt into the cattle car."
"God is not punitive; He's corrective," Rebbetzin Jungreis explains. "A loving father will discipline his child when he has to -- not out of anger, but out of genuine care for what's best for the child. God is our loving Father. We are experiencing the tragedy of a nation that has forgotten who they are, so God uses anti-Semitism to remind us."
She illustrates with a searing example: According to the Talmud, one of the reasons God saved us from bondage in ancient Egypt was that we didn't change our Hebrew names. "Fast forward," Rebbetzin Jungreis declares, pointing out that in Germany before the War assimilation and intermarriage were rampant. Most Jews forgot about Hebrew names. They became Otto and Eva. Then, in 1938, Hitler passed the Nuremberg Laws. One of those laws demanded that all Jews must assume a Jewish name, that every Jewish man must add the name "Israel" and every Jewish woman must add the name "Sarah." Thus, if a Jew's name was Otto Schwartzbaum, he had to become Otto Israel Schwartzbaum. Jews had forgotten who they were, but Hitler reminded them.

"Jews had forgotten who they were, but Hitler reminded them."

"Fast forward to 2009," Rebbetzin Jungreis says. "When I speak on college campuses, I give out my books gratis, and I inscribe each book to the recipient. I ask each student, ‘What is your Jewish name?' Most of them reply, "I don't know.' I tell them, ‘You have to find out your Jewish name.' If they don't have a Jewish name, I tell them to go to their rabbi and ask for a Jewish name, or I give them a Jewish name. Because your Jewish name is not simply a name. Your Jewish name is your roots, your heritage, your identity. Through your Jewish name you are linked to your life's mission."
A few years ago, she was invited to meet with ministers of the Hungarian parliament. One of the ministers asked her: "Are you angry?"
Rebbetzin Jungreis inquired, "What do you mean?"
The minister explained: "During the Holocaust, this same Hungarian parliament passed all those anti-Semitic laws."
The Rebbetzin replied: "We are not a nation that indulges in anger. But let me tell you a story. My ancestors in ancient Egypt suffered slavery and degradation. If you had asked who has the greater chance of surviving the millennia, the Israelite slaves or the Egyptian empire, everyone would have laughed at you. But all that is left of the Egyptian empire is relics in the British Museum, and we, the Jewish People, are still here. And this holds true for all the mighty empires of the world, from the Babylonians to the Romans. The great Roman Empire killed hundreds of thousands of Jews. The Emperor Titus built a victory arch in Rome to commemorate the conquest of the Jews. I moved through the Arch of Titus going from Hitler's concentration camps on our way to freedom. Hitler claimed to give the world ‘the final solution.' He even built a museum in Prague to exhibit the artifacts of the extinct Jewish people. But his ‘thousand-year Reich' survived 12 years, and we Jews are still here."
Jewish survival, explains Rebbetzin Jungreis, is God's part of the Covenant. Our part is to keep the Torah's commandments.
"If we would only allow a moment of truth to illuminate our hearts," grieves Rebbetzin Jungreis, "we would readily concede our pitiful state. Just consider that we, the nation that taught a pagan world about God, we, the nation that introduced the language of prayer to humanity, we, the nation that has lent meaning to the concept of faith and trust, has forgotten how to turn to God, how to trust Him, how to have faith in Him."
With obvious pain, she quotes a recent article in the New York Times. The article maintained that in these depressed economic times people cannot afford to go to psychotherapists, so instead they go to their religious counselors. A Muslim businesswoman interviewed by the journalist complained that it's difficult to find a good place to pray five times a day when she's in the business world. A Catholic woman complained that the sexual mores of the Church are very restrictive. What was the complaint of the Jewish woman? She finds it very stressful to have a Jewish last name and to be identified with Israel. So she assures her date that she eats pork and that Israel has nothing to do with her. "What has become of us?" laments Rebbetzin Jungreis. "God looks upon His children and weeps."
Rebbetzin Jungreis ends on a powerful note:
"Hitler needed ghettos. I know. I was in one.
"Hitler needed cattle cars. I know. I was in one.
"Hitler needed concentration camps. I know. I was in one.
"Hitler needed gas chambers. I know. I was in one, although that time it sprayed water instead of gas.
"Ahmadinejad doesn't need ghettos, nor cattle cars, nor concentration camps, nor gas chambers. He can accomplish the same thing just by pressing a button. Heaven forbid!"
What will you do to stop him?

Miracles on the Mountain

The following is an article I wrote about the miracles which occurred during the course of the war three years ago in the north of Israel. As you may know, I was there during the outbreak of it, and this article is some of my outlook, and some of the things I heard and experienced. My article was published in the N'shei Chabad Newsletter, in time for Tishrei, along with a photo, but when I was writing it, I distinctly remember doubting whether or not it would actually be published- I was sure Moshiach would be here before Tishrei... Perhaps we could have done more. My intent is not to document every experience, nor is it to explain the reasons and the causes for what happened in Eretz Yisroel those five weeks. As it is taught in Chassidus, sometimes our perceptions of things in this world as limited and finite beings are quite jaded and we can not comprehend the impressions and vastness of the situation. We can only trust in the Creator and Sustainer Who Sees All that this seeming bad really has a higher source in the ultimate of goodness. He runs the show, He knows how it is suppposed to run, and runs it in the best way possible.

Miracles on the Mountain- my story of the Second Lebanese War, Summer 5766 by Esther Yetta (Grayson) Zylbernagel
Everyone agrees the seventeenth of Tamuz carries a peculiar energy, and on that Thursday in Tzfat, I felt it: It was a strange feeling, nothing I have ever experienced before. I woke up, davened (prayed), and ran to the Machon Alte (seminary) campus, only to find that I was late and the teacher I'd expected was not teaching. Quite unusual. After class ended, the "English speakers" were going down together to the Kever (gravesite) of the AriZal (R' Issac Luria, the great Kabbalist)- what a good idea! Before I went down the mountain to the old graveyard, I went out of my way and stopped at my friend's house and picked up my Chitas (prayerbook containing the 5 books of the Torah, Psalms, and Tanya), which I had left there a couple days before. I didn't know why, but I suddenly felt an urge to hold it with me. I met my friend Miriam lower down in the old city, and we went down the dirt path over the wooden planks to the blue painted tombs of the AriZal, R' Shlomo Alkabetz, and R' Moshe Cordovero, our local Tzfat tzaddikim (Holy Sages). It was the first time I remember no one was there. 'Strange,' I thought, as I went down right next to their tombs, 'why is no one here- surely people want to daven here and ask for Moshiach (Messiah) at the start of the 3 Weeks (this fast day begins the period of the destruction of the Temples, culminating 3 weeks later).' We davened extra hard that day, and although we could see across the valley to Mt. Meron, smoke billowing out from its side where a bomb had hit the previous day, I didn't pay it too much attention. I called my mom to wish her a good day and ask for my grandfather's name so I could daven for him, and continued my requests, utilizing the special time. After snapping some photos, Miriam and I decided to go back up the hill towards the main street. Although I wanted to split up and meet later at our apartment, we decided to go to the Machon to return her Siddur (prayerbook) together, and then each go separate ways. Before reaching the main street, as we passed by our friend's house near the main Kikar (square), I remembered my Machzorim (holiday prayerbooks) which Miriam had brought me from America and left at her house. We stopped in and picked them up, but odly, it took longer than usual. It was strange that our friend's door wasn't open- she had to get the key... Miriam and I peeked into the health food store in the Kikar, but left quickly as they were closing for the midday 'rest period.' Just as we were turning towards the Machon, we heard a very loud noise: It sounded like a high- pitched scream was whizzing over our heads, and then, a second later we heard an even louder BOOM very close by. Never in my life have I heard such a sound, but I instantly knew what it was and what it meant. I think my brain stopped working for a couple seconds, and I froze. Miriam pulled me to the Sofer (scribe) next door, and we just stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do. The elderly Sofer started explaining about how he lived through this war and that war, and this was nothing new... but I didn't hear it. The only thing which started working my brain was looking at the mezuzah scroll, the words of the Shema, and a picture of the Rebbe, Menachem Mendel Schneerson. Suddenly, I recalled my teacher's wife and good friend Roni telling me about a Miklat (bomb shelter) in the Kikar (In what context and for what reason she shared this information, I still do not know). I started looking around, and asked out loud where it was. Just then a group of people ran past us through the square and went down some steps nearby. I realized they knew where the shelter was located, and we followed them... but the door was locked. 'How could the door be locked,' I thought, and as we waited for someone to find the key, I started saying Tehillim (Psalms) from my Chitas. As I said Perek Chof (chapter 20, said in times of distress) over and over, I realized my entire body was shaking. 'Why are you shaking?' I thought to myself, 'everything is going to be okay.' I think I said that Perek ten times until I was sufficiently calm enough to wonder where was the key and what about my other friends still at the AriZal and other places in the city. While the key was being retrieved from the nearby yeshiva, Miriam and I started calling people- teachers, students, principals but no one answered. As they attempted to unlock the door, we determined it was smart to make a run to the Machon, only a short block away, since things were quiet. When we arrived, we were greeted by an interesting sight: The vast majority of the girls were in the kitchen, accompanied by a large stack of Sidurim, Chumashim (Bibles), and Tanyas, fervently saying Tehillim. One of the old- timers of Machon Alte, an Israeli named Yaffa, was splitting up the Sefer (book) numerous times, so I took a portion and sat down. Some of the girls were crying. Our history teacher Rabbi Mordechai was attempting to calm them, explaining that the Machon was also a shelter, a Ma'mad, and had been designated by the government as a citywide safe place during the war in ' 73. I felt so unsure of myself, not really knowing what to do or where to go, and so I began the journey of the words of Tehillim. In his great work, King David expands on the comfort he finds in G-d in the trying times, and reciting these sacred words over and over calmed my racing nerves. A count of the Americans (English speakers) was made, and we attempted to contact the other girls who were elsewhere. We went through another round of booms, all of us saying Tehillim together out loud. I really felt the power of a community at that time. As the time passed and things calmed down some, Rabbi Rosenfeld, sh'liach (emissary) of the Rebbe and dean of the Machon, appeared and completely calmed us down. We were informed of the details of what happened- the hotel near our apartment was hit, as well the college nearby. Apparently some other places in the area were damaged, as well. The rabbi advised us to stay at the Machon overnight as an extra safety measure. As he went outside, I followed him and asked if it was safe enough to go up to our apartment to get some clothes and supplies, since there seemed a relative break, or end of the commotion. With a big smile and certain voice, he said, "Sure, you can go! But not officially." I later learned that the government would come around with a megaphone and tell the citizens when they could come out. This announcement only occurred about five weeks later. Some of the girls came with me to our apartment, but we ended up in the Ma'amad (secured room) in our neighbor's house, joining the girls who were in the apartment at the time of the attack. There we had the opportunity to share stories and reflect. As my friends related their experiences, I realized that each one was another miracle story- this one went to walk her friend with a baby home and the missile hit her house where she outght to have been; that one decided to take the time to give tzedakah (charity) before coming up from the AriZal, and made it just in time. Wow, I thought, Hashem directs the steps of man-- literally-- and each mitzvah steered each one to exactly the right place. After getting some overnight necessities, we descended the 80 steps to the Machon (very quickly, next to the wall), and finally broke our fast. The girls were singing songs of encouragement and triumph (Napoleon's victory march, sung by his army before battle), and we turned on the radio for the news. Unfortunately for me (or maybe fortunately), no one translated into English. During dinner, another round of missiles fell, and everyone in the room panicked. I found myself being pushed under the table- like in a mob- and surrounded by hysterical girls. Some of my friends were reciting the Shema. I just wanted to get away from the large glass windows. Eventually, the missiles stopped falling, and our principal visited us and discussed the sleeping arrangements. Once it was decided the English speakers would sleep in the kitchen, we went on a mattress- hunt. We brought the mattresses down from the upper floors and moved them into our new Ma'amad, brought down bedding and linen, and 'made home' there. Some of the girls insisted in removing the utensils hanging from hooks on the walls and moving them to a safer place, and we cleaned the countertops off on anything which might fall down, G-d forbid. We settled down, everyone very close to each other, and one girl even slept under the heavy kitchen table for an extra-safe feeling. We awoke too early Friday morning rubbing our eyes, necks and backs, removed the mattresses, cleaned up, and then moved on to our service of Hashem. The beautiful thing about Chabad Chassidim is that no matter how many obstacles are in the way, regardless of the amount of time in a given place, we "set up our Mishkan," erect our Tabernacle, and make the place into a G-dly space, a home where G-d would be comfortable dwelling. This perseverance and dedication is something which was very much revealed throughout the coming days, especially when each person chose whether or not to stay. Groups of twos and threes began leaving before Shabbos, and it came down to five of us left. That was to be my family for the next four days. We ate together, slept next to each other, and each of us kept our eyes out for one another. This harmony meant so much to me- as an only child, these truly are my sisters. It is explained in Chassidus that what is the highest in the begining ends up falling the farthest. When we see things in life which appear terrible, we must look upon it with positive eyes, knowing its' source is higher than what we percieve as good. They say a Chossid internalizes, therefore this concept should be applied to the days of pain and suffering. The main thing to remember is that although we do not always see the Hand of Hashem, nor do we see the outward expression of goodness, we know that there will come a time when the world will see the bad was really good. Over the course of those five weeks, I certainly experienced moments of intense good, and still laugh about the 'good times' during the war. Us five "sisters" went to the Chabad area of town for Shabbos, and stayed at a teacher's home in the Kiryat Chabad, a huge thirteen-floor apartment building. On Friday night, I chose to go to the big shul nearby and daven with the congregation, along with two of the others. Soon we started davening, and we lost ourselves in the chapters of Tehillim praising Hashem and speaking of the future redemption and His strength. All of a sudden, in the middle of davening, we heard a very loud BOOM. A bomb just landed closeby. My initial instinct drove me on the floor next to one of the ceiling beams nearby, and I just continued my davening by rote for a few seconds, until my Chassidishe mind (or Neshama, soul) piped up: " Why are you sitting on the floor? You're in the middle of praising the Creator of the world, the One who controls these booms! Of course He's not going to direct a bomb into this beautiful shul, a place which is referred to as a Mikdash Mi'at, a microcosm of the Beis HaMikdash! So there's no point in worrying- get up and daven like you mean it!" So I did. And as I was saying Lecha Dodi (the prayer welcoming the Shabbos), hearing the booms outside, I knew I was in the safest place in the world- G-d's Hands. In His Temple. As we sang Shlomo Alkabetz's strong words (who I had visited two days prior) greeting Shabbos, I concentrated on the meaning and the striking significance- 'Get up from your downtrodden state,' 'put on your fancy clothes,' 'do not worry or fear,' 'the city will be rebuilt on the ruins.' As the tune changed to be quicker and more upbeat, and the men downstairs encircled the Bimah singing, I thought about the astounding beauty of the Jewish people and our determination, fortitude, and trust. Someone once remarked, "I don't know what other peoples do- I would go crazy if I didn't trust in Hashem." I realized it was true, that although the wind blows, the rain comes down in torrents and every nation in the world tries to blow it out, the candle of a Jew's soul will never be extinguished; On the contrary- all the opposition only brings out our innner strength and pushes the flame to burn stronger. The next day, we went to the Rosenfeld's house, and the minute we entered their home, I again felt like we wlaked into the safest place in the world. The house shone with the light of Shabbos, and a mouthwatering aroma filled the tiny apartment. As usual, many guests bustled around, and even after we started the meal, the door kept opening, bringing new arrivals. Their daughters pointed out the smoke accross the hill, which was probably the result of a loud thud we heard again in shul. But it didn't move me too much- I was inside, in the warm arms of the Rosenfelds and the holy Shabbos. Most of the bombs which fell on Tzfat were aimed at the main northern army base near the tomb of Yonatan ben Uziel closeby, but every bomb which fell was miraculously diverted a bit to the right or the left, and did minimal damage.The amount of bombs which actually hit something (not just trees and grass) was probably about one out of every 500 or so! One astounding story which occurred that Shabbos was told over and over: There is a family living in the nereby area of Giv'at Shoshana, and the wife is very involved in the community. She organizes woman's learning groups and gatherings, and her family lives in a two story apartment. They had agreed upon a room in the house which they felt was safest, something most families had done, and the children had slept in that room on Friday night. On Shabbos day, while the boys were in shul, the missiles started raining down. One missile fell, but not down in the normal way like rain falls from the sky. The missile appeared to have come down, curved around like an "L," went through the wall on the lower level into their safe room, and did not explode. The police who came to investigate and extract the bomb said they had never seen anything like this. What's more although the glass everywhere shattered, the picture of the Rebbe Rashab (the fifth Chabad Rebbe) under the bed was perfectly intact. Another miracle: A boy in the middle of Shacharis (morning prayers), still in his Tefillin, went outside to talk on his phone, and after debating whether or not to take them off, kept his Tefillin on. A natural wanderer, he paced up and down the cobblestone street of the Old City, when suddenly three big rockets whizzed by and exploded just thirty feet in front of him. He returned home shaking, but completely unharmed. He said if he had taken off the Tefillin, he doubted he would be alive to tell the story. Hashem watches over His loved ones in an incomparable manner. Throughout our history we have read of the defeats of the few against the many, and of the unbelievable nature of the Jewish people, but to experience it firsthand is mind blowing. I have learned that life is full of miracles, and we only have to open our eyes and tune into them. Even though the Hizbollah may deal with Israel in manner according to nature, G-d does not deal with His chosen people and their promised land in a way of nature: Every bomb which falls is another miracle, and the perseverance and determination of the Jewish people is astounding. We stayed at our teacher's house on Sunday and Monday, as well, and the teachers came up to give us classes. I had spoken several times to my parents, and they advised me to stay with the girls. Rabbi Rosenfeld came and discussed the situation with us, and we came to a conclusion that we should relocate for the advantage of the others not in Tzfat. We knew that many would leave the country if we did not have classes, and that for the meantime, they were scattered in various places, not really learning Torah. Plans were made, and the others agreed to join us in our new location. Fortunately it was the summer time and schools were closed, because we were able to stay in a different seminary's dorm and utilize their campus. There is also a special summer program in the Machon, with Rabbi Rosenfeld's son-in-law and daughter who come in from America as the teachers. Luckily for us, they agreed to come with us on our journey and teach us. It was a very long five weeks, and I would not say I would have chosen it, but G-d knows me better than I know myself. Those five weeks were a growing process which opened my eyes to appreciate small pleasures in life, such as having hot water and more than two skirts. I laugh as I look back, and I am thankful for the gifts I am blessed with. I will always treasure the time I was in exile from my city, although it was painful, for it was during that time that I truly saw G-d's Hand and saw real miracles.

Making decisions- Fiction

She entered the flower shop, uneasy. In all of Malia's twenty-nine years, she had never attempted something so daring or stupid. Secure and confident at her position in the office of Dr. Bernard E. Hayes, psychotherapist, where she coordinated, kept records for, and assisted in psychoanalyzing the patients from the mental hospital, Malia needed a change of pace. She passed by the flower shop daily on her way to work, and the bright colors and peaceful atmosphere teased her and made her fantasize about a bright future, away from the gray carpeting and mustard- yellow walls of her dimly- lit office. Finally, and opportunity arose: a sign posted in the window sparked her curiosity and made her think twice before trudging on to work: Help wanted. Full- time position available. And so, the process began- analyzation, yeses, nos, are-you-crazys, and then the realization that what she had just wasn't making it. It was time to actualize her childhood dreams and open the door to a new future. "I'm here to apply for the job," she told the woman behind the counter.

Response to Mumbai

Processing...
How to think, how to feel.
What can I do, how will we carry the torch?
Upholding legacies, uplifting sparks.
Refining, purifying.
Surviving. Somehow.

How to live, how to love.
How to continue, how to proceed.
Retain the fire, let it blaze through thte darkness.
Light up the night!!

Raise the torch, burn the flame.
Illuminate the frigid darkness
With the flame of love.
Seek out every last flame, clean the wick.
Let not the flames dwindle.
Seek out the remnant,
Hear the lone soul cry.

Band together- brethren, sisters.
Bond together, add your light.
Let it burn bright in the night.
Watch the darkness slip away.
No one can extinguish the flame-
The bonfire rages, it overtakes the world,
Showering the longawaited sparks of redemption.

Next Time You Pass a Trash Can...

Throw your cigarette butt on the ground, and come back six months later. It will still be there, exactly as you left it, littering the street or yard. Even if you returned to the exact spot two years later, chances are your cigarette butt would still be there, as would a tin can hastily tossed 80 years previously. So much litter is incorrectly disposed of, remaining in the same spot before decomposing. A cigarette butt may take anywhere from one to twelve years to break down and return to the earth, whereas a tin can takes 90 years to biodegrade, and a styrafoam container is estimated to decompose in more than one million years (“Litter Reduction Program”). Every year in the state of Washington alone, over 16 million pounds of “stuff” are tossed and blown onto interstate, state, and county roads. Another 6 million pounds are tossed in parks and recreation areas, and although over four million dollars are spent each year to combat the eyesore litter creates, staff estimates that only 25-35% gets picked up (“Litter Campaign”). Even in outer space, more than 4 million pounds of debris float above Earth, providing a dangerous game of dodge ball for billion-dollar spacecraft (Sparks). In order put a stop to littering, a person need only look at the disastrous effects on the environment that carelessness causes, and consider reforming his thought process slightly to improve the surrounding world.

True, it is difficult to stop littering, especially since proper distribution of garbage cans is regrettably not up to par. Cigarette ashtrays are missing from the ordinary litterbin, providing a tough decision for the environmental-conscious smoker. Trash receptacles are rarely available at construction sites, where workers are forced to drop their lunch waste atop the pile of building waste and hope it all is cleaned up when the job terminates. The convenience of simply dropping an empty container on the ground vastly outweighs the effort involved in finding a trash receptacle, or the annoyance of pocketing it and remembering to dispose of the trash at a later time. Especially in the rush of the city, running after an escaped napkin is hard to fathom when one is pressed for time. In the suburbs, who can avoid crows and animals opening up bags of trash lunch, later abandoned hastily on the curb? Squirrels inevitably chew through even the toughest of garbage cans, and one obliged to purchase another trash can, since new lids are not available individually in stores. As to the dumping of nuts, bolts, and other satellite pieces into the growing orbital junkyard, it is hard to imagine a better place which can hold unlimited amounts of broken machinery at such a minimal cost. To be sure, orbiting debris has damaged some spacecraft; however, the cost of cleaning out the existing junk is prohibitively expensive and very difficult.

Our world is being diminished by litter. What most litterers overlook is the harmful and dangerous effects to society the split-second carelessness causes and has caused to everyone on earth. Litter discarded in streets and recreational areas can travel through the storm water system to bays and oceans, where it causes harm to wildlife. Ducks in Maryland’s Chesapeake Bay area were recently discovered dead, their stomachs full with plastic bags. Closer investigation and tracking found a collection of discarded plastic bags underwater, which the mother ducks, mistaking them for food, delivered to their chicks, causing their death. Even organic matter, such as dog droppings, leaves, and grass clippings, pollutes waterways and degrades to form a rich source for algae in the wrong places (“Littering”). According to the U.S. Water News Online, “runoff from farmland laden with chicken manure has been linked to high concentration of phosphorous in waterways” in Georgia, and the Canoochee River, which runs through southeastern Georgia, is now “algae-choked” and unattractive to citizens. Linda Burkhalter remembers playing in the Canoochee with her sisters 50 years ago, when the water was cleaner. Litter can also be a fire hazard. Accumulated litter and hastily discarded cigarette butts are potential fire hazards, and countless fires caused by lit cigarette butts have been started all across the world. Innocent birds may, from time to time, pick up a lighted cigarette and drop it in their nest, a result of smokers’ inattention and carelessness (“Cigarette Butt Litter—In The News”). According to the National Fire Protection Association, cigarette-caused fires result in more than 1,000 civilian deaths, 3,000 critical injuries (many among firefighters), and $400 million in direct property damage each year. Litter is a threat to public health, attracting rats, mosquitoes, flies, and other insects, and providing a breeding ground for bacteria (“Littering”). Once mice and rats are underfoot, feeding off trash and subway litter, diseases spread quickly, as evidenced by the deathly European Black Plague. Broken glass and other discarded sharp objects may injure people and may lead to disease such as tetanus or hepatitis (“Littering”). Additionally, littering also extends to the outer space, an open area for dumping. Modern space stations that are set into orbit are now covered by a bulletproof material called Kelvar for protection against particles smaller than one centimeter, and radar is put to use in detecting larger flying objects. But the pieces larger than one centimeter and smaller than ten centimeters in length are too small to be spotted by the radar, and too large to be stopped by the Kelvar. "If the ISS gets hit at a critical spot with one of those, it's going to be a bad day," stated Nicholas Johnson, chief scientist and program manager for orbital debris studies at NASA Johnson Space Center. "A 5-centimeter object coming toward the space station is going to put a hole in it." A centimeter-long piece of metal off an old Delta launch vehicle orbits the Earth at 6.2 miles per second, and packs the same punch as a small bus traveling 62 mph on Earth. A tethered rocket was lost in 1994 when a miniscule bit of space debris effectively sliced through the tether, and the Hubble Space Telescope had a three-quarter-inch hole shot clear through its high-gain antenna by a small object (Sparks).

Litter looks bad and negatively affects the image of places, especially tourist locations. In California, a person convicted of littering can be charged up to $1,000 because of littering, and sentenced up to 16 hours cleaning up graffiti or litter(“Littering”). It’s just not worth it. As an individual, the most powerful factor in effecting a change may be to remember that refraining from littering may be one small action, but small actions do add up, and it’s doable. Other preventative measures include checking the litter conditions near a person’s home, including securely closed trashcans, covering loose items in boats, and ensuring a litterbag is in the car. Sharing information about the harmful effects of littering with friends and family also spreads awareness, and will open the eyes of the unaware. Missouri elementary school teachers can receive individual awards signed by the governor for completing a litter-free syllabus. Washington State has created programs to promote awareness that include roadway signage, special events, and reminders on state agency materials . The law enforcers have even begun asking people if they have a litterbag, and reminding citizens it’s the law. Businesses should promote litter awareness and recycling and encourage litter-free living for employees. The UN has added guidelines recommending that all new spacecraft be fitted with propulsion valves that will propel objects toward Earth's atmosphere within 25 years after they expire, harmlessly burning up in the upper layers of the atmosphere.

As world population grows and the quest for environmental-friendly living conditions continues, each person can contribute his share by being conscious of his trash. Ascertaining that litter is placed in appropriate trash receptacles and biodegradable material is properly disposed of ensures a healthy environment for all, and keeps wildlife in its natural cycle. Littering is an area that can be reformed ‘one small deed at a time,’ leading to the healthy Earth everyone desires.

Riding...

Come on and ride the train

step on board, take your ticket

no two are the same

you'll soon be going for a ride

there's nowhere to run no place to hide

you're riding riding riding on the train-

But you try to check your ticket

and you don't know what it means

will you get to sit on velvet

and dine on fine cuisine?

Or is your place to be up on

a worn out wooden seat

with a slice of old and crusty bread

your only food to eat_

Come on and ride the train

the doors are closing, the whistle's blowing

now you must remain

the locomotive's on a roll

just some things you can't control

you're riding riding riding on the train-

So you ask an older passenger

how long will this ride be?

he says "sorry son I can't say

there is no guarantee

it might be the next station,

we'll be there in no time

but maybe if you're lucky

you can stay till the end of the line"

music

Then you take a walk up through the train

each boxcar one by one

most are filled by people saying

this ride's just for fun

why think about tomorrow

when you've got today instead

sit back enjoy the view

there's miles and miles of rail ahead

Ride the train.....come on everybody ride the train

ride the train.......come on everybody, ride the train

But one car seems so different

inhabited by few

who say there is no time to waste

we're only passing through

the choices that you make today

are all that's gonna last

this train is moving down the track

and it's moving awful fast

Come on and ride the train

step on board take your ticket

no two are the same

you'll soon be going for a ride

there's nowhere to run

no place to hide

you're riding riding riding on the train.......

(Journeys II)

Nineteen

n 1798, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, the author of the Tanya and the Shulchan Aruch, was imprisoned on the false charges that his teachings undermined the authority of the czar of Russia (in truth, he was spreading Torah). For 52 days he was held in the Peter-Paul
Fortress in Petersburg. He was miraculously released on the 19th of Kislev.

Among the Rebbe's interrogators was a government minister who possessed broad knowledge of the Bible and Jewish studies. On one occasion, he asked the Rebbe to explain the verse in Beraishis (3:9): "And Hashem called out to Adam and said to him: 'Where are you?'" Did
Hashem not know where Adam was?

Rabbi Schneur Zalman presented the explanation offered by several of the commentaries: the question "Where are you?" was merely a "conversation opener" on the part of Hashem, who did not wish to unnerve Adam by immediately confronting him with his wrongdoing.

"What Rashi says, I know," said the minister. "I wish to hear how the Rebbe understands the verse."
"Do you believe that the Torah is eternal?" asked the Rebbe. "Do you believe that its every word applies to every individual, under all conditions, at all times?"
"Yes," replied the minister. Rabbi Schneur Zalman was extremely gratified to hear this. The czar's minister had affirmed a principle which lies at the basis of the teachings of Rabbi Yisroel Baal Shem Tov, the very teachings and ideology for which he was standing trial!

"'Where are you?'" explained the Rebbe, "is Hashem's perpetual call to every man. Where are you in the world? What have you accomplished? You have been allotted a certain number of days, hours, and minutes in which to fulfill your mission in life. You have lived so many years
and so many days," -- here Rabbi Schneur Zalman spelled out the exact age of the minister -- "Where are you? What have you achieved?"

Exercise for the day: Ask yourself these questions: Where am I holding b'ruchniyus?
What am I achieving? What have I achieved this past month?
If you don't like your answers for any reason- What one thing am I going to improve upon?

In response to the Candle:

What is a flame?
As the days and minutes tick past, leading up to the holiday of lights, we ask ourselves,
What is a flame?

A flame is an everlasting light, a piece of something, but really it's nothing... is it? What is light?

A flame only exists attached to a wick, a snippet of cotton, a stick of wood, meaningless, right?

What is it that draws us, warms and enlightens us- what is this conglomerate of nothing and something that entraps me, making my eyes shine?

The flame is my soul.

It's inside of me, on top of my head, outside of me, flittering here and there, it reminds me of me.
It's the part of my being stiff and hard, it's the part of me silent and yearning. It's the part of me that's bound to time, space, and my stomach's rumbling. It's the part of me that wants to transcend, to fly away, to leave the confinement behind and join the bigger flame. It's the part where I want nothing but- nothing.

Struggle.
Which will win?

Yet there descends a strange peace, a content and tranquility which never before visited the earth.
With every flame there descends ESSENCE. Mutuality. Working together. Common goal.