Yehudis' Blog

Over the past few weeks, I have thought about Lois often.  In fact, since her passing it seems she is constantly on my mind.

Often times, when I think about Lois, I picture her standing in the doorway.  I can see her walking in with Joe at her side.  Of course, she is armed with her smile; her warm, loving, and comforting smile.  In fact, every memory I have of Lois is with a wide smile, or a kind word, or a shower of complements.

I have never met a woman like Lois and I doubt I will ever meet anyone like her again.  All I can hope for is that I develop into a woman like she.  Lois was a woman of true courage, deep faith, and unwavering optimism.

From the day I met her, I have always been touched by her positive spirit.  She always found something nice to say to each person she met.  It seems as if everyone who met Lois felt close to her, and loved by her.

Whenever she would see my husband and me together, she would comment on our shared smiles and loving relationship.  When she spent time with my children, she would praise their good manners and behavior.  When she walked into my kitchen, she would complement me on the cleanliness and organization.  Lois made me feel as if I was extraordinary; as if each task I completed was special.  She made me feel as if I was the most important person in her world.

I can hear Lois’ sweet chuckle and her words, “Yehudis, I don’t know how you do it.”  And each time she would say that, I would respond, “Lois, I just wish I could be like you.”  And I do.  If I can only go through life, pass through the hurdles and painful challenges, and still come out smiling and spreading good cheer, then I will know that in some way, I am like Lois.

May her memory be for a blessing.  She surely deserves it. 

Sukkot is one of my favorite holidays, for many reasons.  I remember my excitement as a child, helping with building a sukkah.  Together with my father, we would shlep the boards and bamboo sticks.  We would climb the ladder and hang the lights.

One job my brother and I loved most of all was climbing the trees and cutting down branches for the sukkah covering.  We had so much fun swinging on the branches, trying to get them to snap in half.  We would come back inside scratched and dirty, but very satisfied.  We felt we had an important role to play in our family's holiday celebration.

Now too, when Sukkot rolls around, I get excited.  I love seeing the sukkah slowly coming up.  Setting up tables and chairs outside, getting the meals ready for lots of guests.  I love seeing the joy in my chldren's eyes as they help their fatherr put up branches for the sukkah covering.  I love hearing their shrieks of excitement as they run in and out of the sukkah, enjoying the holiday spirit.

Sukkot allows us to leave behind the formalities of the house and be our true selves inside the sukkah.  Sukkot reminds us what true parenting is all about. As Jewish parents our job is to allow our children to taste the joy, excitement, and beauty of Jewish life.  Let them see how much fun it could be.  And let them see how much we enjoy it.  Tell them how excited you are to eat in the sukkah.  Show them how happy you are to have guests, to celebrate the Joy in Jewish life.

Friday was the first day in the month of Elul.  This is the preparatory month before the High Holy Days.  There are special customs added for this month, to get us in the frame of mind.  We blow the shofar each day, as a wake up call, to remind us to get back on track, headed towards Rosh Hashana.

Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, the first Chabad Rebbe, gave an inspiring parable to explain the nature of the month of Elul.  He described a King who generally resides in his palace.  To meet with the king, one must be an influential and important person.  Even so, one must schedule an appointment in advance.  

At the time of the appointment, he is required to pass many guards and checkpoints.  When he finally meets with the king, the king is on his throne, in his royal clothing.  It is a very intimidating, awe inspiring moment.

Once a year, the king leaves his palace and heads towards the fields outside the city.  He is available for all his subjects to meet with him, without appointment, in an informal way.  The king greets all his people with a smiling face.  He is open, warm and friendly.

All year round we feel as though G-d is in a high place, and only through meditation and powerful prayers do we feel we can truly access Him.  In the month of Elul, Hashem is in the field, He is waiting for us to come to Him, to call to Him.  When we do, He will turn to us with His smiling face, and write us down in the Book of Life.

Yet, we must still take the first step.  Hashem is not knocking at our doors, He is waiting in the field.  Will you go out to the field to meet Him?

Many of my blogs discuss my time on the treadmill.  I guess you can say I get some of my best thinking done there.  Don't ask me why.  Usually I'm huffing and puffing as my little ones ask me to intervene in a fight, help them with their socks, or answer a deep mystical question about life.  Yet, in between those encounters I think.  (That may actually be dangerous...)

So, lately I've been pushing myself to increase my speed on the treadmill.  I began at a measly 2.5 miles per hour.  I know it's pretty slow, but that was what I felt I could do.  I've slowly worked my way up to 4 miles per hour.  I still can't do it for the full 20 minutes but I'm definitely getting there.  Yes, my brother-in-lay wasn't too impressed with 4 miles per hour (he runs at 6 - and I say , "good for him"), but for me it's huge.  I never thought I could reach that pace.

How did I do it?  Each day I noticed what speed I felt was comfortable, and pushed myself to go up just a little more.  I never went too much higher, just a little more.  When I got used to the new speed, I sped up a notch. 

I believe that the same is true about every aspect of our lives.  We need to gauge where our comfort level is, and then push it up a notch.  We can't become complacent in our level of achievements of yesterday, we need to do more today. 

One doesn't grow by making huge jumps or setting unreasonable goals.  When we do that we set ourselves up for failure and disappointment.  By taking baby steps we keep moving higher without the despair or hopelessness of an unreachable goal.

So, choose a goal, and take baby steps until you get there.  When you look back to your starting point you'll be amazed.  (And don't let your brother in law tell you it's no big deal - it is.)

I recently discovered an interesting story in the Talmud.  During the Greek rule over Israel, a woman named Miriam married a Greek officer.  This was considered a betrayal of the Jewish nation to the highest degree.  After all, this was the regime oppressing the Jews terribly.

The Talmud relates that when the Greek army stormed the Holy Temple, Miriam joined the mission of destruction.  She  struck the altar with her sandal and cried, "Wolf, Wolf, you consume the Jewish people's wealth and yet you don't answer them in their time of need."     

This outburst seems to be a minor offense, compared to her apostasy and intermarriage.  Yet the Talmud focuses on Miriam's disrespect as a portrayal of her sinnning heart.  Why?

To understand this, one must comprehend the nature of the Jewish soul.  Our soul is G-dly, attached to Hashem with a deep and everlasting bond.  Although at times one may appear to be distanced or perhaps cut off from G-dliness, there is nothing that can erase the bonds between G-d and His people.  Any disconnection is superficial and does not represent the true relationship.

A parent will ignore disrespect or misbehaviour in another child, yet would not overlook this behaviour in their own child.  Why is this?  A parent cares deeply for his child, he wants the child to grow up to be an upstanding individual.  The parent knows that it is in the child's best interest to repremand him.  To discipline or be angered by bad behaviour is a sign of real love and connection.  The other child's behaviour is not his concern.

No matter how far a Jew may seem, to Hashem it is His one and only beloved child.  No matter how he has sinned, Hashem loves and cares for him.  To Hashem, it is hurtful that His daughter acting this way in His presence.  He loves her and is troubled by this disrespect.

The love and concern that Hashem shows for Miriam bat Bilga, is the love and concern Hashem feels for each of us.  It is also the love we must feel towards each other.  We must always remember, no matter how far and cut off a Jew seems to be from Jewish life, he has a Jewish soul.  He has an innate and irreversable connection to Hashem. 

Yesterday was the 9th of Av when we commemorate the destruction of the first and second Temple in Jerusalem.  The 9th of Av is a memorable day for my family for another reason as well.  The 9th of Av is the Yartzheit of my grandfather, Reb Nachum Zalman Gurewicz. 

My grandfather was a lively, happy, and inspired person always on the go.  He did not wait for opportunities to reach him, rather he reached out and created them.  His life was not an easy one, yet he took each situation and turned it to his advantage, to fulfill his goal of helping others.

Reb Nachum was born and raised in Communist Russia.  At a time when practicing Judaism was forbidden, he was a proud observant Jew.  He attended an underground Yeshiva as a teenager, striving to learn Torah at all costs.  Families were not eager to host Yeshiva students, as it would jeapardize their own safety.  There were times when Reb Nachum would sleep on a park bench, in the cold Russian night.  At the age of 16, my grandfather was one of a few Yeshiva students arrested for his counter-revolutionary activities, namely studying Torah.  After his release he continued this way of life, undetered.

After marrying my grandmother, they lived in Moscow.  He ran various succesful businesses that would allow him freedom to take off for Shabbos.  One of his more successful ventures was a knitting factory.  He became very wealthy at one point in his career.  The Previous Chabad Rebbe had fundraisers who would travel the country, collecting money for the various yeshivas and other causes.  One fundraiser approached my grandfather and asked for a donation.  He offered a large sum of money, yet the fundraiser was not impressed.  "I would like one third of your wealth," he demanded.  Reb Nachum did not hesitate and handed over the money with joy.

At the outbreak of World War II, families living in the larger cities were evacuated to the countryside.  My grandmother went with her children, and my grandfather was drafted into the Russian army.  Even with the strict army discipline, he found a way to adhere to Torah life.  He had a pair of tefillin which he hid in the commanders desk, and would sneak away to pray with them each day.  One Chanukah, he quietly hid and lit a makeshift menorah.  He was caught and accused of treason, lighting a fire during the blackout hours of the night, giving away their positions.  Reb Nachum explained that we was testing the various blackout clothes as part of his job of supplies manager.

Jewish life in Communist Russia became even more oppressive after the war.  The Russian government was allowing Polish patriots to leave Russian.  Many Chabad families escaped by forging Polish passports.  My grandfather was very involved in the illegal passport ring, risking his safety to help many others escape.

My grandparents headed to France where they planned on weighing their options of where to settle.  The Previous Chabad Rebbe advised them and a few other families to move to Melbourne, Australia.  This seemed at that time like the other end of the world.  Yet, they picked up their family of small children and boarded a ship to Melbourne.

The Jewish community in Melbourne was quite small and had very little to offer in Jewish schooling.  The new emigrees began the slow process of building a strong and vibrant community.  My grandfather eventually became the primary fundraiser for the Chabad school system, educating hundreds of children. Many of his "clients" fondly remember him, the twinkle in his eye, and his chutzpa.  He was not ashamed to ask for money, rather felt it was a privelage he was offering his "clients."

Reb Nachum was known for saying the entire book of Tehillim, psalms, each day.  He was always found holding the book of Tehillim (even when driving!), repeating words several times, until he felt he gave each word the proper attention and pronunciation.

He would visit the schools and peek in on the classes.  Kids would scatter in all directions, fearing his famous pinch, hence he was named by the kids, The Pinching Man.

I remember when he would stay in our home, or we would visit Melbourne, waking up on Shabbat morning to the sounds of my Zaide's tehillim.  When he would notice us he would make us cups of chocolate milk (with way too much chocolate powder - but who complained?). We had to scout out the room before entering, because if we didn't notice his quiet presence, our rear ends would get a strong pinch as we passed by.

I was lucky to spend my seminary year (post high school studies) in Melbourne, Australia.  This was the last year of my grandfather's life.  He took me with him to the nursing homes to visit the elderly.  At the age of 86, my grandfather was older than many of the residents, yet he had a bounce in his step as he went from room to room.  I remember him telling me that he is a soldier of the Rebbe's army and will follow any order from headquarters.

During the final weeks of my grandfather's life he stayed in my aunt's house.  Rabbi Groner, the head rabbi and director of the Chabad community, would visit and conduct business.  He went through the list of various donors, asking about each one.  My grandfather, sharp as ever, remembered each pledge and appointment, urging Rabbi Groner to follow up and obtain the funds.

My grandfather passed away on Friday night with my aunt at his side.  He was buried on Sunday, when we observed the fast of the 9th of Av (which had been pushed off from Shabbat).  The funeral hall was overflowing with people, all there to wish farewell to a very special man. 

We all miss his smile, his love, and burning enthusiasm.

Last week I attended a lecture by Yehuda Avner.  He has served as ambassador for Israel in the United States for many years.  He had the privelage of escorting various Prime Ministers of Israel to the Rebbe.

He highlighted one of his own private audiences with the Rebbe.  It was late at night and the meeting had been going on for quite some time.  Mr. Avner was discussing technichal issues of Israel security and politics with the Rebbe at the behest of the Prime Minister.

The Rebbe noticed that Yehuda was growing tired.  He changed the subject and began discussing the concept of Chassidic life and the role of a Rebbe.

The Rebbe used the example of a candle.  What is a candle?  A lump of clay with a thread running through it.  How does this serve it's purpose as candle?  When one lights a flame to the wick, the wax and the wick become a candle.

"My job is to encourage each and every Jew to fulfill the purpose for which he or she was created."

"The wax is the body, and the wick is the soul," the Rebbe recited in the tune of Talmudic study.  "Bring the flame of Torah to the soul, and then the body fulfills the purpose for which it was created.  My purpose is to bring the flame of Torah to each Jew."

The Rebbe then brought the discussion back to the original topics of Israeli interests.  At the end of the meeting, Yehuda Avner asked the Rebbe,
"Has the Rebbe lit my candle?"

The Rebbe replied, "No, I have given you the match - only you can light your own candle."

Tonight before bedtime, we watched a video of the Rebbe.  Usually the kids watch for a couple of minutes and then find a quiet game to play while my husband and I finish the selection.  Mendel loves to clap and dancing when there is singing, and the girls enjoy calling out familiar Yiddish phrases they here the Rebbe saying.

At the end of the selection, there was a brief interview of Rabbi Wineberg's experiences with the Rebbe.  Rabbi Wineberg is an elderly chassid of the Rebbe who was entrusted with important community affairs.

Rabbi Wineberg related how he was asked by a prominent businessman to approach the Rebbe and relay his question.  The rabbi quickly headed to the Rebbe's office to meet up with the Rebbe's secretary, Rabbi Hodakov.  The secretary would enter the Rebbe's office each evening with various letters and urgent questions.

When Rabbi Wineberg arrived at the office, he noticed, to his dismay that Rabbi Hodakov was already in the Rebbe's office and he had missed his chance to pass on the urgent question.  He wrote the information in a brief note and slipped it into the crack between the door and its frame, hoping that Rabbi Hodakov would notice it on his way out.

When Rabbi Hodakov exited the office, Rabbi Wineberg noticed that the note fell to the floor inside the office.  Fifteen minutes later he received a phone call with the Rebbe's instructions for the businessman.

The next morning Rabbi Wineberg sent a note to the Rebbe apologizing for leaving the note in the door, forcing the Rebbe to leave his desk and bend down to pick it up.  

The Rebbe's reply was clear, concise, and powerful.

"This is my entire being - to uplift - especially that which others overlook."

This was and still is the Rebbe's entire being and life mission.  The Rebbe always uplifted us and sought out those which others overlooked.  And now, the Rebbe has empowered each of us in this mission - to uplift others and seek out those that are overlooked.

I wrote this post last year in honor of the Rebbe's Yartzheit.  After reading through it, I decided to repost it.  This Thursday, June 25, is the 15th anniversary of the Rebbe's passing.

This Sunday, the third of Tammuz, marks the 14th anniversary of the Rebbe's passing.  There are so many feelings and thoughts that pass through my mind as I think about that Saturday night in June when I was awoken to be told the news that our beloved Rebbe had passed away. 

It is a day I will never forget.  I will never forget the feelings of loss, bewilderment and pain.  Never in my life have I ever felt so united with a community.  I remember standing at the funeral with friends, cousins, neighbors, community members, all of us in the same position, all of us sharing the same sorrow.

I will never forget how my parents used the opportunity, the moments when they were suffering so much, to teach and inspire us, their children.  As we drove home from the cemetary they explained to us that in our lives, in our activities, in our life's mission, nothing had changed.  That we would continue to share the Rebbe's vision, that we would continue to light up the darkness of the world, one mitzva at a time.

Many wondered and what would happen to the Chabad Chasidim, would the whole organization fall apart without a leader?  We too wondered, how can we carry on without the Rebbe's presence, advice, and teachings.  

Yet, we have carried on, and we have grown.  We see that we still have the Rebbe's presence, advice, and teachings. 

The Rebbe had a vision of a world where every Jew would do one more Mitzvah, where every one would have the opportunity to connect to G-d.  The Rebbe was determined to make it happen.  The Rebbe’s ultimate goal was to hasten the coming of the Moshiach, an era where there would finally be true peace and Godliness everywhere.  We work every day to make that happen.  

But I miss him; I miss his guidance and wisdom, and the clarity he provided.  I miss hearing him speak and I miss waiting in line for him to hand me a dollar for charity on a Sunday morning in honor of a special occasion.  And I am speechless when my girls complain that they wish they could have received a dollar and a blessing from the Rebbe.

That is why on Sunday we will go the Ohel- his gravesite, in Queens, NY. I will stand on line- probably for a couple of hours with my troop- and tens of thousands of other people.  I will explain to my children, as we do all the time, the Rebbe's gift to us and Jews all over the world. 

They are young but already feel a love and connection to the Rebbe. I hope they will be impressed and inspired as I am by the multitudes of people who will be there, to thank the Rebbe and ask him for blessings. 

Wishing you a wonderful weekend, and if the opportunity arises, do an extra good deed in honor of the Rebbe.

This past Sunday, The Woman's Touch hosted a Creative Writing Workshop.  It was lots of fun to get together with friends and share our writing.

One of the activities we did was picture a place we've been to (real or in our minds) in the past week.  And so this was my piece...

My thoughts spinning round and round in my mind.  Emothions swirling, tugging at me from all sides.  Lists and obligations, phone calls and meetings, so much noise, pulling at me, begging for my attention.

I pull myself away, and search for an escape, a quiet, a sense of peace.  A place for me to be me, a place breathe and relax.

Where can I go?  Where will I find this quiet and peace?  I close my eyes and imagine.

I picture lush green grass, a bubbling brook, birds chirping softly, the scents of flowers intoxicating. 

I sit under a tree, with my favorite book, a firm sweet peach, and I am content.

Following up on the last blog, a wise woman reminded me of the difference between pain and sadness. 

"Pain can dwell  together with joy, but sadness i.e. depression focuses only on the negative.   We can and must feel the pain of others, but at the same time we try to hold on to hope and faith that eventually the good will be revealed.   Before we can offer any comfort, we must first share the pain. But if we lose our hope, what comfort can we offer?   If we get depressed, how can we help others?"

I've been thinking about this question for a while and would like to hear your thoughts about this.

When we look around us, there is an incredible amount of pain and suffering.  In our local communities, and the world around us.  So many people are going through such difficult struggles.  On one hand, it is our obligation to see and feel the pain.  We can't ignore it or be apathetic.  Yet, for someone who really cares, it is too much too absorb, too much to contain.

When it is our own struggles, we can rise to the occasion, force ourselves to be happy, and grow from the experience.  In a way it feels selfish to be happy when others are so sad.  It's easy to be happy, as long as I keep my eyes focused in my little bubble of my own life.  When it's someone else's pain, how do we balance the caring and love, and not let it affect our joy?

Well, I've figured out the solution to the treadmill boredom issue.  I shlepped the treadmill in front of an old VCR and now watch videos as I walk.  This week I watched a talk of the Rebbe about Shavuot.

The thought that was presented was simple and so profound.  The Rebbe noted that historically wisdom and any sort of studying was left to an elite crowd.  Regular people had no access to this knowledge.  It was something that did not belong to them, they had no right to this understanding.

And then, for the first time in history, this barrier was broken.  On the 6th day of Sivan, two thousand, four hundred and forty eight years after the creation of the world, G-d announced to all, "Wisdom belongs to all people, men, women, and the smallest of children."

At the Revelation of Sinai, every single Jew was present.  This wasn't for the wise elders, prophets, or adults.  Everyone, every age, every level of intellect was included.

When parents teach their children Torah, they understand that the Torah belongs to them and their children equally, it is a gift they share.  One of the first teachings a parent passes on to their children is the well known phrase, "Torah Tziva Lanu Moshe Morasha Kehilat Yaakov - The Torah which Moses commanded us is the heritage of the congregation of Jacob."  We point out that this is the Torah commanded to us, it is for all of us.

And this, in my opinion, is the secret of the Jews.  It is this understanding that learning, studying, and the pursuit of wisdom is something for each and every one of us.  It is our responsiblity to keep digging for the eternal wisdom.

When I studied in Australia for a year after high school, I learned a little Shavuot song that went like this:

Shavuot is coming nearer and nearer 
That's why we count the sefira!

Of course, in the Australian accent the song actually rhymes. 

But yes, Shavuot is nearing and there are so many elements to this great day.  Shavuot celebrates the revelation of G-d at Mount Sinai.  The tablets were not actually given to the Jewish nation until weeks later.

So what are we celebrating?  We celebrate the marriage of the Jews to Hashem, the beginning of a formalized relationship.  We celebrate our acceptance of the Torah.

We celebrate the marriage between the material and spiritual.  It was only at the revelation at Sinai that we were given the ability to infuse a material object with G-dliness.  When we do a mitzva with a physical object we elevate it.

Holidays are not celebrations of past events.  Each holiday celebrates an event that takes place each year.  Each year, actually each day, there are spiritual energies that relate to that day.  On a holiday there are potent spiritual forces and events transpiring.

On Shavuot we reexperience the giving of the Torah.  Although we are not standing at Mount Sinai, although we may not hear G-d's voice echoing through the world, the Torah is given anew.  And we must reaccept the Torah anew.  We must accept the Torah with a new energy, a new life, and fresh eyes. 

It is important to be in the synagogue as they read the Ten Commandments.  And when the commandments are read, we must focus on the moment, grab ahold of the spirit and tell G-d - we are here, we are yours!

Last night, as I counted the Omer, I felt a little sad and wistful as I realized that we only had one more night left to count.  I felt as if there would be a certain emptiness when I would no longer have anything to count down to.

Then I began to think about the fact that in reality we are always counting down to something.  We always need something to look forward to.  Each week I count until Shabbos.  During the school year we count until vacation.  In the winter we wait for spring.  In the spring we look forward to summer. 

Thank G-d I feel as if there is always something special to anticipate.  With such a large family, with many siblings, cousins, and lots of friends, we jump from simcha to simcha.

May we always have happy occasions to look forward to.