Sunday, December 14, 2008

Something I Want to Remember

I love the feeling I get after a Yachad shabbaton: the high from the singing and dancing, the inspiration.  Before this weekend, I was always involved in Yachad, because I enjoyed it.  Being involved in Yachad never seemed like chesed to me, but rather it was just a fun way to spend my time.

But this Friday, I wasn't feeling well and didn't want to come on this week's shabbaton.  I guess that's why I realized, for the first time, that helping Yachad members is chesed.  I was soon reminded, though, that doing chesed is not a one-way relationship.

Late Friday afternoon before going to shul, as I bundled my Yachad member into her winter coat, she put two challah rolls in her pockets.  As far as I was told, she didn't have any allergies, so I couldn't understand why she was bringing with her own food; since she isn't verbal, she couldn't explain it to me either.  At shul, another Yachad member filled me in: they bake their own challah every week at day hab.  After washing for bread and making hamotzi on the shul's challah rolls, I was surprised when my Yachad member put a piece of her challah roll in my hand and then cut pieces of her special challah for everyone at the table.  

It's simple, profound moments like this one that remind me that I'm really not the one who is doing chesed, who is helping the other.  I learn and gain so much from the "beneficiaries" of my chesed.

Monday, December 8, 2008

Engaged? Popping the Question?

If so, you've got to check out this new blog: www.peacediamonds.blogspot.com
Before you purchase diamond jewelry, find out if you may be supporting civil war in Africa.  Check out this blog to learn how to buy conflict-free diamonds. 

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Letting your Fingers Roam the Keyboard

One thing I've noticed recently is that there are two main themes that I like to write about: Diet Dr. Pepper and personal change. Putting aside my favorite caffeinated beverage for the time being, I'm realizing that personal change is a big issue in my life now. Considering that I'm in college, it's probably a good thing that I'm experiencing change. I don't want to be my 16 year-old self when I'm middle-aged. For that matter, I don't want to be my 16 year-old self now, either. My friends and I talk a good deal about how we've changed over the past couple of years, and I have to say that, thank G-d, I'm mostly very happy with how I've grown.

Part of what is prompting this post is a discussion that I had earlier this evening with a friend about the merits of raising your kids in a Bais Yaakov or Modern Orthodox environment. (What can I say, we think long-term.) I realized afterwards that there are advantages and disadvantages to each system and that the two worlds are not mutually exclusive of each other. Another thing that I realized (and that I've realized before, but I need to continue working on) is that although I consider myself pretty liberal and accepting of other people's choices and ideologies, I'm actually more accepting of people who are less "frum" (hashkafically) than I am than I am accepting of those who seem more "frum" than me. I need to work on this!

Another thing that I realize is that this post has turned out to be me very different than what I expected. I thought I would be writing about shidduchim. I guess not.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

I'm Back

Long story short, I'm running out of ways to procrastinate, so I'm blogging. Oy.

My crazy friend, let's call her "Deenie," wants me to mention her. I guess that she doesn't realize that my blog isn't famous. In any case, here's a shout-out to "Deenie."

Although I have been quite inconsistent about posting, I'm glad that I started this blog. I'm a notoriously lousy journal-keeper, and this blog was a pretty good substitute journal while in Israel. A year later, I'm enjoying reading my thoughts from seminary. It's like reconnecting with an old friend.

In the interest of pleasing my future self, I'm going to try blogging this year.

So here goes: I'm officially no longer a freshman in college. My college experience is very different now that I have a group of friends from seminary, a job, a sense of belonging. Two years ago, I thought that I liked my school (and I did), but comparing it with my present experience, I realize how stressed out I was. That's not to say that I'm not stressed out now, trying to figure out what I'm doing with my life, but, b"H, I feel a lot more relaxed. I realize that my frame of mind is so important. Some things are nominally in my control, but really Hashem controls everything, and I just need Hashem to grant me the clarity to be positive.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

A Year of Lists

O'Hare
JFK
Ben Gurion
Heathrow
LaGuardia
Reagan

Me Talk Pretty One Day
Davita's Harp
The Kite Runner
I Am Charlotte Simmons
A Thousand Splendid Suns
Big Boned
The Guy Not Taken
The Count of Monte Cristo
Reviving Ophelia
Anna Karenina
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
The Robber Bride
Jewels
Peaches
The Writing Class

Bayit Vegan
Ramat Beit Shemesh
Beitar
Bayit Vegan
Efrat
Ra'anana
Tzfat
Kfar Etzion
Tel Aviv
Bayit Vegan
Telshe-Stone
Ramat Beit Shemesh
Neve Yaakov
Har Nof
Bayit Vegan
Bayit Vegan
Bayit Vegan
Ramat Beit Shemesh
Beit El
Moshav Matisyahu
Rechavia
Ramat Beit Shemesh
Cholon
Kibbutz Lavi
Ramot
Rechavia
Neve Aliza
Bayit Vegan
Bayit Vegan
Neve Yaakov
Moshav Matisyahu
Modi'in
Warsaw
USA
USA
Bayit Vegan
Bnei Brak
Ramat Beit Shemesh
Neve Yaakov
Beitar
Nof Ayalon
Bayit Vegan
Efrat

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Sunday, March 9, 2008

Bubbles and Roller Coasters

Warning: get ready for some clichés.

I recently read The Kite Runner. The author, Khaled Hosseini, remarks quite correctly, I think, that sometimes clichés are the most appropriate choice of words. Now, late Sunday night, looking back over the past couple of days, I realize that a bunch of clichés—maybe they’re idioms—best describe what I feel.

I feel like I’m in a bubble, like I’ve taken a ride on an emotional roller coaster over the past couple of days.

Wednesday was nuts. I studied for a big Hishtalshilut (Jewish history) test on the time periods of the Tannaim and Amoraim, which left me really wanting to learn some Gemara. (FYI: I’m really enjoying my learning here in Israel, but I realize that I miss learning Gemara.) I went to class in the morning and again straight through from three in the afternoon until 9:20 P.M. I ate dinner, had a job interview over the phone, and caught up with a bunch of people who I hadn’t spoken to in a while. By one in the morning, I was exhausted, but it had been a great day.

Thursday was exhausting, physically and emotionally. I had a huge Navi bekius test on fifteen perakim of Shmuel I-II. I hadn’t had much time to study for it on Wednesday, so I had to fit in time to study throughout Thursday. It was also the first day of the 70-80 degree weather we’ve been having here lately in Yerushalayim, so studying outside was actually really nice. Later, my dira ate Dira Dinner together (lasagna from Village Green), and I kept studying. At 8:30, when my bekius test was done, I thought my crazy week would be over.

About 20 minutes later, I was sitting outside checking my email. It was a beautiful night, and I wasn’t in a rush. All that I had to do that night was make chocolate-covered pretzels for my dira’s long-awaited Shabbaton and sleep until very late the next morning. Enjoying the leisure of a free night, I was pretty much unaware of the sirens I kept hearing. After having lived in Manhattan for a year, I’ve become pretty immune to the sound of ambulances and police cars. But moments later when I got a text from my school, reporting that there had been a terrorist attack, all of the calm I felt disappeared.

When I found out that Mercaz HaRav had been attacked, I immediately thought of my chesed family. I tutor a 17-year-old Israeli girl in English, and her family lives a couple of houses down from the yeshiva.

Until then, I had never actually felt the terror of a terrorist attack, and I mean terror.

Thank G-d, I felt safe in my school, but knowing that minutes from where I live, a bunch of students my own age were gunned down at their school was absolutely horrifying.

It felt like Tisha B’Av.

The night was taken up with contacting family in the United States, saying Tehillim, and comforting friends.

The next morning, I woke up at 6:30 to the surreal sound of girls singing. Despite the terror, it was somehow still Rosh Chodesh Adar Bet, the happiest month of the year. Outside my window, I could hear beautiful voices, singing Hallel.

An hour or two later, I received a text from school, saying that the funerals for the eight victims killed in Mercaz HaRav would be in a couple of hours and that we should know that the streets would be closed off.

Friday was spent busily preparing Shabbos meals for seventeen teenagers. By Friday morning, our small Shabbaton for the eight members of our dira had more than doubled in size as friends’ Shabbos plans quickly fell through. (Almost needless to say, we pulled it off, and our Shabbaton was a success.)

Motzei Shabbos, a friend of mine and I walked to the Kotel. When we got there, it was packed with people. We spent a good 45 minutes davening. It was good to stop and reflect after rushing non-stop from Thursday night and on. On our way back through the Old City, we heard singing and stopped to see what was happening. A group of 50 or so Bnei Akiva and seminary girls were gathered in the Cardo, the ancient shopping thoroughfare. They were sitting in a big circle singing together. One girl played the guitar. In the center, eight yahrtzeit candles were lit.

***

Actually being here in Israel has made this experience so much more real for me. Every one you speak to knows someone who is related to one of the victims; two of the murdered boys’ mothers work at my school. The boys’ hometowns aren’t just random locations listed in The Jerusalem Post—they’re places I’ve spent Shabbos. The 21 bus, the line that runs to my school, passes Mercaz HaRav. How many times have I walked past the yeshiva on my way to tutor?

Before he began teaching l’iluy nishmatam, the dean of my school told us that Mercaz HaRav has a mesiba every Rosh Chodesh and that boys had been setting up for the celebration, since Thursday night was the beginning of Rosh Chodesh. A number of boys chose to go back to learning rather than set up for the celebration. It was there in the library where they sat learning that they were killed.

Hashem yinkom damam.