​Dear friends,

It’s THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN. You are probably scratching your heads trying to figure out what I can possibly mean. There is no holiday coming up until Purim. Yes, TuBShvat is around the corner, but how early to I have to begin thinking about the Rosh Hashanah of ……the trees?

The time that I am referring to is Shovavim. This word is an acronym for the series of Parshas that will be read in the next six weeks (Shmos Vaeirah Bo, Bishalach, Yisro, Mishpatim). They are the ones that narrate our emergence as a people, beginning with the story of the enslavement and the beginnings of the exodus, and ending with the laws of Hashem’s justice that set us apart as people. It’s a time in which the national journey is meant to be reflected in making a personal journey towards greater freedom.

Huh?

As of last reading you were comfortably ensconced in your chair, trying your best to balance your life and hopefully enjoying most of the process of being alive. Do you need or want greater freedom If you are living a highly structured life, does that mean quitting your job/marriage/kids/other responsibilities that you have worked hard for? I can’t imagine that your secret fantasy is to get up in the morning (or whenever) with endless time stretching out before you, with nothing to do, no one to talk to, and nothing likely to change. “Man is made to toil” if you haven’t noticed, and this verse (from Mishlei) is unquestionably true. From that perspective, who really wants more freedom? 

You may want to free yourself of….yourself!

If you are like me, there is a self you want to be, and a self you actually are. They live together in uneasy peace. What keeps them apart? Slavery to desire, habit, and fears are slave-masters. They keep you enslaved to your self. Not the self you want to be, or even the self you are, but the self that lurks under the surface and pulls you down towards the self that you never ever want to be. 

No one is more enslaved than a baby. On the surface he is free, he can do whatever he wants, and no one can tell him otherwise. He is enslaved to his limitations needs and desires. He can’t make real choices and isn’t in charge of himself. If anything, a two-year-old throwing a tantrum is even less of a free person. His temper, (and yes, again) desires are all he knows. 

Being free ultimately means being able to find the part of you that is eternal. That part of you is even free of the inevitable fate of all of us, death itself. One of the illusions that you may have is that good deeds are over when they are over. This may be true on a simple level (the wallet you returned to the stranger is now safely in his pocket. End of story), but in the more genuine schema it isn’t. The good in any deed is a spark of something eternal. When you choose good over The Other Stuff, what you are really doing is choosing eternity over transience. All the fantasy, fear, base desires, selfishness that is hidden (thankfully) below the surface is doomed to oblivion. There is nothing within them that binds them to Hashem. 
The Tzadikim are free. They are who they want to be. No matter what is happening on the outside, they have a self that is unchained. 

When I graduated high school, the school gave the girls a book called Bastion of Faith as a gift. It was a story about one of the men I consider to have achieved a great deal of personal freedom He was the person he wanted to be under all circumstances. Many of you have heard of him, and possibly also heard this story. He was one of the greatest authorities on Jewish law in his time. His name was Rav Moshe Feinstein. He knew that ignorance enslaves. This awareness drove him to do battle with ignorance by becoming the head of one of America’s first yeshivos. He knew that assimilation robs you of your identity. He did battle against the assimilationist reality of his times, a reality that chained so many of your great grandparents to the dream of being anyone except who they are. Rav Feinstein went door to door collecting money to build a mikveh for the women of his Lower East Side community who wanted to still be themselves, freely and without apology.  This commitment included building people. Once when he was driven by car, his driver opened the door to let him in and accidently closed it on his hand. He knew that the young man would be devastated, so he remained silent until he reached his destination and freed his hand from the door. No force, not social convention, status, or even his own body could force him into subservience.

Does the exodus story inspire you? Let it put you in touch with yourself. You have the Torah that you learned inside, telling you what the choices really are. You have the freedom to choose your environment. You have the freedom to make your life the kind of life you dreamed of in Yerushalaim no matter where you are today. You are strong enough to do it. 
 
I wish I was really free
Like the Rav
Like Yocheved was when she stood up to Pharaoh
Like Pharaoh’s daughter was when she stretched her hand 
To save a child of a despised people
Free. like the person I could be.
​
Love,
Tziporah 

Dear friends,

It’s mid-term break, and more and more of you are showing up back here on the Ranch (okay-Neve and Bnos Avigail) every day. It’s amazing and really inspiring to see what you are doing and what you are becoming. Yerushalaim is a magnet. You all seem completely at home here, as though you just left a week or so ago, when so many of you are gone years longer. One of the best outcomes of your trip home, is that you still realize that it is a trip home. 

Almost, but not quite.

Tomorrow’s fast reminds all of us that we are not quite home. Even those of us who live here, barely know what being home once meant.  

The fast of the tenth of Teves commemorates the estrangement that is now part of our lives. 
There are three days in Teves that actually were “contenders” for being fast days because fasting for three days is far beyond most people’s capacity. The decision was made to have the 10th act as commemoration for all of the acts of tragic betrayal that took place on the 8th and 9th, 10th as well. Ptolemy (a hereditary title like Pharaoh) ruler of the Southern Kingdom of what was once the Greek Empire, demanded that 70 sages sit in separate cubicles and translate the Torah into Greek. On the surface of things (especially for those of you who are Art scroll addicts) this doesn’t seem to be a tragedy. Quite the opposite, the Torah will reach a wider audience, and Hashem’s word will be known to inestimably more people than would be the case if it were to remain accessible only to Hebrew speakers. The tragedy is that the Torah that interested the Greeks was its outer dimension. They grasped its beauty, elegance, and poetry. They had no idea of its holiness, nor did they really grasp what holiness is. They certainly had no use for mitzvos, especially the ones that demand that you go beyond your comfort level, and walk with faith. 

The 9th of Tevet marks the day of Ezra’s death. Ezra, the spiritual leader of the Jews who had returned to Israel after the first exile. Since his time many Tzadikim have died, and many seemingly more overwhelming tragedies have taken place. These leaves you wondering why his death is singled out for being a time to fast after over 2000 years have passed. 

Finally, the 10th of Tevet is commemorated for being the beginning of the end. Yerushalaim was surrounded and besieged. No one could leave or enter, making starvation a daily companion. The walls were breached in 13 places on the 17th of Tammuz, and finally the Bais HaMikdash was burnt in the midst of an unspeakable blood bath on the 9th of Av. On the surface of things this event both overshadows the others and is totally unrelated to any of them.

Ohr Gedalyahu is a book written by Rav Gedalya Schorr, of Torah Vodaas yeshiva. His own orientation was Chassidic, and he let the underlying themes of Chassidus and Kabbalah run through his writing. His essay on the 10th of Teves shows you how all three days (8th 9th and 10th of Teves) flow into one long and tragic one.

Ptomay wasn’t the Nosson Scherman of the ancient world, whose life work was to bring Torah to the masses. He was an archetypical Greek, who wanted the Torah translated so that his people could study it and come away with regard for its awesome beauty and elegance, and the depth of its wisdom. They had no real definition of kedushah, holiness, less recognition of G-d Being with us right here, right now, and still less intent to actually observe the mitzvos. This great divide between learning Torah and keeping Torah is still here today, alive and well. This is a genuine tragedy, because it relegates Torah into being dead, a piece of ancient history, rather than something alive enough for close to 100,000 people to celebrate the cycle of studying Talmud on a daily basis.  

The fast on the 9th day would have told us what had to happen to keep the Jews from being so enamored by Everything Greek that they forget anything beyond the was Torah’s form. Ezra re-introduced Ktav Ashuri, the kind of Hebrew lettering that was engraved on the Tablets of the Law, but was deemed too sacred to be used by the ordinary people. It never really found the way to the majority of people wrote. It was a holier form of writing, one in which each letter, vowel, space between words and letters is ripe with meaning. Ezra did what no other leader or prophet did before him or after. He got the people to do tshuvah. Something even Moshe was unable to pull off. One of the ways in which this took place was by teaching the deeper meaning of each letter. Gematria etc. isn’t relevant in any other form of writing except the one that Ezra taught; a language in which the letters had “souls” not just bodies, souls that had been forgotten by the masses. His death put an end to the era of return, a place that we have as yet to re-visit, hopefully soon.
Fasting takes you out of the business of eating to survive, and living to eat. It makes you aware that there is sanctity here and now, and that each letter of the Torah is far from random.

Let the fast bring you closer to who you are, and let it inform you about who you don’t want to be, at least not any longer. You have the strength to make a clean break with Greek-Think, you can search for the Torah’s relevance, and not just its beauty. You can can be one of the most important players. You have to know how to “read” the Torah, by hearing it speak to you daily, This can get you and all the rest of us closer to the day when the destruction will be replaced by an era of renewal and redemption. 
​
Love, 
Tziporah

Dear friends,

Did you ever think that you need a vacation from a vacation? That’s how I felt when I left the Kotel the final night of Chanukah. The Kotel was as usually overwhelmingly full of its eternal beauty, from its stones to the serious daveners to the clueless tourists who are all there to find something more. It’s time to move from the stark contrast of the deep black of the Hellenistic culture of self and the flame of the way Torah burnt its emblem in the hearts of the Macabees. It’s time to just head home, make this week’s menu, put up the colored wash, and get on with the subtle joy of the ordinary.

Then I read the news. There was a sum up of the latest wave of anti-Semitism that rolled over America in the last months. Over Chanukah alone there were 13 reported incidents. It finally hit home-things are different now. Does that mean that escalating violence is the new normal? Maybe-not being a prophet- I don’t have the latest word. This is of course not the first time we were hated, nor is it the first time that this kind of thing took place in the Home of the Brave and the Land of the Free. It is, however the first time I personally realized that my tacit assumption that It Can’t Happen Here is based on nothing but optimism.  The force of this realization made it hard to retreat into the delightful monotone I had planned on enjoying, and maybe that’s how it has to be.

Historically there are three responses that work, all of which are learned from the way Yaakov responded to Eisov’s hostility when he found out that Eisov was planning an attack:

1-The first and most important one is tefillah. Our only real strength as a people are in our words. We have never been empire builders or knights in shining armor. Speech is the bridge between the soul and the body-it gives expression to the soul by using the body, the mouth teeth, tongue etc. We are good at making that kind of bridge. We are people of soul. We also know how to use he physical world to serve Hashem. Real prayer means addressing your soul and body to Hashem, and using words to express your utter dependency on Him, and your trust that the One who sustains every leaf on every tree sustains you as well. Don’t sabotage this realization by getting into “I deserve more/better because You owe me”, since we owe Him everything it’s a bad negotiation tactic. Let Tefillah do its job. It’s meant to express the hidden love and awe that can get lost in day to day life. Hashem answers sincere prayer, and that is why it is step one. 

2-Appeasment is also valid even though it has such awful connotations. If being willing to financially participate in valid neighborhood projects, walking the extra mile to be kind, being willing to let honesty and integrity mean being willing to sometimes NOT stand up for your rights in the system. There are people who look at us through Lavan’s eyes. When Yaakov left after decades of work, mistreatment, deceit, Lavan said, “The girls (Yaakov’s wives, for whom he worked 14 years!) are my daughters. The sheep (for whom he worked on Lavan’s terms) are my sheep. Everything you have is mine”. If we can be less conspicuous in our spending even though our money is earned, Sforno points out, we may be doing ourselves a favor.

3-Self- defense. Yaakov was willing to fight to save himself and his family. He would not accept passivity or defeatism to be his final farewell. This is too important to forget. We need to be conscious of security and also less passive about the double talk that comes from the higher windows. Hatred can’t be tolerated, but is it really dealt with? Are the perpetrators really imprisoned?  Being militant can mean thinking that “I can be strong enough to save myself” without Hashem’s help.  Nothing can be further from the truth. Your role would be to express the way you believe that He is here for you by making efforts that demonstrate how much you value your life.

Some people have asked me (remember, me-Tziporah the non-prophet) whether it’s time to move to Israel. You know me. From my perspective it’s ALWAYS the time to move to Israel. What could be better than the Kotel on a cold winter night? It’s good to come to Eretz Yisrael. I am certainly not about to say that I have the depth of insight to know whether or not it’s the time to move from the U.S. What I do know is that its time to be sure that you are glad that you are you and not them-the haters.

Yaakov’s formula of prayer, appeasement, and self-defense should ideally give you back the inner peace to let yourself be in two places at once; You are as secure in your place in Hashem’s Hands as a baby is in his mother’s lap. He doesn’t know or care where else he is. We have weathered a lot, but we are here living our lives with simchah, higher consciousness, and fun.

For those of you in Israel, I am enclosing an ad for a Shabbos devoted to regaining Simchas Chaim!
For those of you who are in Israel and those of you who are not, I will conclude with my wishes that 
You see Hashem in the ordinary
And in the fire and the dark
That your words touch your heart
And your love of life replace your fear 
Of death and destruction
​
Love,
Tziporah  

Dear friends,

What a wonderful day! Shabbos, Rosh Chodesh & Chanukah!

It’s so easy to focus on darkness, and so amazing to remember that light is always on the palette. I have plans for each day. Just saying Hallel- the psalms of praise, makes a day special. Going to the Kotel and seeing the Menorah it inspiring. Each day makes it easier for me to identify with the people in the Bais HaMikdash who saw light when they had every reason to expect darkness. The finale, on the eight day, is the best of all. 

Shimon HaTzadik, although he lived over a hundred years before the Chanukah story began, is very much one of its heroes. When Alexander the Great, the founder of the Grecian Empire, which in its time included the entire known world, reached Israel he encountered the Kuttim, Later known as the Samaritans, they were a people who were brought to Israel by the Assyrians in order to repopulate it after the Jews were exiled  They converted sort of, out of fear, and later created their own version of Judaism. They came to hate the Jews whose very existence created an aura of illegitimacy of their claim to be Jewish (somewhat reminiscent of the extreme theology of some groups of the Black Hebrews). They became our bitter enemies and came to Alexander to feed him the fake news that the Jews are rebelling against him. Initially he believed them and headed out to Yerushalaim. When the Kohen Gadol of the time, who as known as Shimon HaTzadik heard what was about to happen, he headed out to Alexander to plead for Yerushalaim. When Alexander saw him, he immediately went down from his chariot and bowed before Shimon HaTzadik. His entourage were dumb struck. What is the Emperor of Greece doing bowing before a Jewish dignitary? He told them the secret. “When I go into battle, I see his image, and I know that this is what brings me victory”. The story is very puzzling. What connection is there between a Kohein devoted to Hashem serving in the Bias HaMikdash and the brilliant general? The answer is that Hashem is the One who gave the Greeks victory in order that people like Shimon Hatzadik lay the foundation for the Jewish people to face the challenge that Greece will present later under Antiochus, and emerge greater and stronger, clearer about who we are and who we are not than we ever could have been if we had not been challenged. From the roof of the tomb of Shmuel HaNavi, you can trace the Maccabean battle.
What was the challenge that the Macabees faced like?

It was unique. We had faced all sorts of things. There were those who tried to steal our land, those who tried to steal our hearts, but the Greeks tried to steal our minds, which is the most painful and dangerous game of all. The human centered world is a Greek creation, made to replace the G-d centered world we had “lived in” since our emergence as a people. It was (and is) very appealing to let your subjective view of life define morality. It lets you play as you go, defy conventions, and climb intellectual plateaus all at the same time.

The rebellion began with one family. Five brothers. They were principled, and they were courageous. They were descendants of Yehuda. Some of you may recall his raw courage in facing down Pharaoh who the worlds most powerful man. He had taken responsibility for his brother Benyamin, and would face whatever he had to face in order to live up to his commitment to his father, Yaakov, to bring Benyamin back from Egypt alive.

Every generation has its heroes. The people who don’t hold back and don’t compromise. The range is enormous. They run form the physical courage of the Maccabees, to the moral courage of those who left everything behind them in Spain and headed to North Africa during the inquisition, to Sara Schenirer doing battle against ignorance. What they shared in common was not the kind of battles that they fought, but their absolute clarity that victory would not be reached by humans’ strength or valor, but by Hashem’s spirit, just as He told the prophet Zechariah.

Today’s battles are often private. Do you really have the strength to say, “Wherever I live, I ‘ll make my house a sanctuary”?   The first ones to do this were Avraham and Sara who turned their home into the only place where belief in Hashem was taught in a world full of darkness. Would you have the inner fortitude of Moshe? He could have easily turned his back on everything and settled on being the golden boy in Pharaoh’s palace. You know your battles.

When you light the candles, feel some of the joy that the Maccabees felt when they saw that the light kept on going. Have the courage to see that the light within you stays lit
​
Love,
Tziporah

Dear Friends,
This is the letter that I would have written before the main event in Yerushalaim. 
I arrived in New York and from there, after a week of shiurim in various places, I began the process of meeting the Neve girls where they are-in four different cities.

Each place was a journey. When the girls saw the posters of themselves and of their “foremothers”, the girls who were in Neve decades before them, something happened. They were able to look at themselves, and chart their progress. Usually you are so involved with the moment that there isn’t the headspace to look at who you were, and how many miles you travelled. One of the girls found herself asking, “was that me?” not because she actually looked so different (I, on the other hand, am totally unrecognizable as Myself Of The 70’s). She saw the curiosity, innocence, willingness to learn morphing into achievement and a certain sort of spiritual stability for herself and her family (who didn’t exist, of course, when the picture was taken). I found myself floating into the world of “what if”. 

What if Rabbi Refson would have never put the original ad in the Jerusalem Post. What if he would have said, “I was looking for young men”, and politely told the original 6 that he really doesn’t have a program for them after all.? What would have happened if he would have turned his back on Neve after the first crisis? What would have happened to half of the girls if they would have let their love of comfort outshout their love of truth? What would have happened if Hashem didn’t help us and guide us all along?
I encounter the former Neve girls vicariously. I meet their daughters in Bnos Avigail, in Bnos Sarah, and in the other sems when they end up eating in my house because my number is on their Shabbos list. I meet the second and third  generations in Kiryat Sefer, and Beitar, and in every place in the Great World where you find Shomrei Torah. 

When I was growing up, my friends in Bais Yaakov by and large were the children of survivors. There were many exceptions, but that was the rule. They often didn’t have many relatives, and certainly not grandparents. Because they were the majority, their empty places, numerous yahrzeit candles, and acceptance of the horrors of the holocaust seemed absolutely normal. The spiritual holocaust that is taking place in America has already taken more victims than the physical one in Europe. It too seems normal. There are two critical differences. The first and most obvious one is that the indescribable torment of the holocaust’s early days when the impossible began to happen, and the agony of the seemingly endless days until it played itself out has no parallel in the American experience. Jews disappear into the bottomless pit of assimilation in an inviting and tolerant society and never re-surface. The second is that the survivors understood what had happened, it was (often times literally) engraved upon them. Those who lose their connection to Judaism, Torah, and any awareness of Hashem, usually don’t regret the loss because they never had anything more. One of the ways that people dealt with their holocaust reality was through bonding with other survivors. If you lived through it, and were still frum, you were almost like a relative. What I saw in America was that the Neve girls (who are now women, some of the grandmothers) still relate to each other as “lager shvesters” sisters of the camps. They all know what it is to have to write their own stories from chapter one, without the support of relatives. They know how to put up with living in a society in which they are not always understood. But they survived, and if you were there, and now here, you remember 
Each trip to the Kotel
Each deep talk with a new “sister”
Each class that shook your assumptions
Each encounter with families that you wish were you in the future
Each holiday that suddenly had meaning
Each walk down HaPisga
Or HaKablan
Led you to new inner realizations
 
Those of you who were There and those of you who were not, but are reading this letter anyway (although it might be a bit tedious, like going to someone else’s class reunion is bound to be) can let yourself be moved. 

Soon it will be Chanukah, the celebration of miraculous light in the midst of the darkness. The Leviim whose job it was to maintain the Bais HaMikdash were very well organized. Each group were called a “Shaar”. The group who had to face the Kohein Gadol, Matisyahu, who had to tell him (initially) that there was no pure oil left , may have expected him to give up. Even after the vial of pure oil was found (there are those who say that Matisyahu himself had preserved a vial while the temple had not yet been desecrated. Although he was not in charge of seeing that there was oil for the menorah, one of his duties included doing specific offerings. The “minchah” didn’t require the extremely pure oil used for the menorah, but he wanted to do things with the maximum, level of perfection, a therefore had put aside some very pure oil with his own seal). Finding it in the total chaos of the desecrated Bais HaMikdash was another matter. The Leviim had to scrape away images, clear out every vestige of idol worship, put aside the stones that were defiled, and finding a small vial of oil wasn’t a simple task. If I was there, I can picture myself thinking that there would have to be some sort of compromise. Even after the vial was found, there was clearly not enough. Why even begin? Perhaps they realized that one day, there would be light so bright that it would last thousands of years, so that it could be seen…
When two girls share their thoughts in the dorm
 And let the light of Torah shake their assumptions
About family, and about building
And about Hashem’s presence in our lives On Pisga or on Kablan Streets.

The Charidy campaign is still happening today and tomorrow.
Follow the link 
https://www.charidy.com/nevefbclid=IwAR3kX0uutDZM0YFlvpGuobjjHIQpIoxZPlx0XeVwK1FM2uGoSshEAT7hZ2g

Love, Tziporah

Dear Friends,
​
This letter is really letter 2. I began a letter in my mind (where so many letters stay…) last week. I wanted to tell you about the amazing people who I meet when I travel, and how wonderful it was to see so many girls at the events that took place throughout the States, and how the organizers brought a level of professionalism that I haven’t as yet seen at events for Our Crowd.

Then I went to the final event, last night’s 50th anniversary and reunion in Yerushalaim. It took place in Neve’s wedding hall, which is on top of the dining room, and easily holds a thousand people. It was more than full. It was FULL FULL, there was a “girl” from Neve’s first year, when they lived in an apartment, all 6 of them. There was a photo image of the ad that Rabbi Refson placed in the Jerusalem Post offering yeshiva courses to beginners, which brought him the half dozen original girls rather than the young men he had anticipated. There were “girls” who slept in the Neve library when there was no more room for them in the dorms, but they loved Torah enough to brave it out. We called it the “Geriatric Ward” because it was only the more mature girls (in their late twenties) who realized that this was a great bargain-getting meaning and eternal life for just a bit more discomfort than they had ever imagined having to experience. There were the Grand Success stories, women who made a name for themselves in every imaginable field including women who are now stars in the world of Kiruv, and famous teachers and authors. And (at least to me) there were the Mothers. Women who raise Torah families. Women who could show me their children’s wedding pictures and leave me moved by seeing the armies they have raised. There were the young women, still starting out, still figuring out where they will be in another month or year. The one thing that they know is that they want to be part of this.

After an hour and a half of mixing, which felt like fifteen minutes, the program began. It was chaired by Estee Yarmish, the chessed queen of Har Nof, with her usual flair for being both enthusiastic and grounded. Rabbi Refson spoke first, and shared his message of how failure is pa rt of the package, and that getting up again is what counts; how the part of you that is like Yaakov (which means heel) is the same as the part of you that is like Yisrael, which means that Hashem prevails. I don’t know what Rabbi Chalkowski said. I had intended to listen, but I couldn’t stop just watching him and learning more from who he is in essence than I could have learned from words. I kept on trying to get myself back on track, but I was enjoying watching his fatherly/rebbe/very human/humble/humorous and serious way of speaking to really catch anything. There was a movie taking you back generation by generation to Neve’s girls; for some people the message was, “Look how things have changed since Cheshvan 1970” but to me it was, “Look how nothing has changed. The girls are still searching, finding, and becoming sisters. The teachers are still there for them, and willing to take them as far as they can reach. Outside circumstances changed, and the students are affected by the world that they live in. Inside changes have not taken place nor will they. Rabbi Refson’s son, Rabbi Yonah Aryeh Refson, spoke about growing up with 10 girls at the table on Shabbos when that was the entire student body. He also spoke about the future, and the aspirations that Neve has; the one that hit me hardest was the ambition of having more outreach to the girls who return to the States, more programs for them. Another movie, this one much shorter, showed the faces of Neve, quick portraits of a sampling of the girls who “introduced” themselves earlier by speaking about how Neve changed their lives.  At that point things changed. A moving and very real commemoration of Rabbi Azor was given, as well as a brief film in which you saw him as he was, smiling, dedicated and so very present.  Rabbi Michael Rokach took over from there. He , the one, who brought this about spoke about raising the money needed for you to be an active participant in Neve’s future. He asked everyone to commit themselves to pledges and by the end of the evening about $150,000 came in. But as they used to say, “YOU AIN’T SEEN NOTHIN YET”. There are generous benefactors who have committed to give three times the amount of money that is raised. The goal that has been set for initiating the new projects is 7 million dollars. That means that only two and a half million dollars have to come in from the other donors like you and me. There was an electronic screen that monitored the incoming pledges and donations. They ran from $2.50 given by one of the rabbis (it was all he had in his pocket at the time), in order to demonstrate his feeling that he just can’t leave without showing that no amount is too small to some anonymous donors (ELENOR ROOSEVELT?) who gave four digit sums. This is just a prelude to the real fundraiser which will take place this coming Monday and Tuesday under the auspices of Charidy. There will be people womaning the phones, making calls and getting in the rest. As they used to say,
BE THERE OR BE SQUARE! 

Love,
Tziporah

​
NEVE 50TH REUNITE CAMPAIGN

To celebrate Neve Yerushalaim’s 50th year and to launch it into 50 more, Neve’s 25,000 alumnae are REUNITING in a global fundraising campaign spanning decades, demographics and borders. 

Because of your passion, influence and personal soul connection to Neve, we would love to have your talent in raising the crowd in our upcoming crowd-raising campaign, December 15th and 16th. 

Your participation in our 50 REUNITE campaign - a 48 hour fundraising event is not only appreciated but crucial to the success of our campaign and overall fundraising efforts. With the goal of raising $7,500,000 we can go into celebrating a growing future together, focused on outreach, making Neve affordable to all through a scholarship endowment, and fully supporting our Neve alumnae in their future growth.
We live in very challenging times. Assimilation and apathy run rampant. Many young women are unaware of their inherent G-d given gift. Your partnership is critical ensuring an inspired, educated and empowered Jewish future.

Please join this campaign by taking on a personal pledge (personal fundraising goal) to have your own personal page link to share and post on all your social media platforms, allowing all your contacts to join you in supporting Neve and their work.

Remember, any donations you give to the campaign will go towards your Moral Obligation balance.
We have all the materials necessary to help guide you through and make this an easy process. 
(We would’ve loved to have an event in each state and country throughout the world. However, we will be making the livestream of the events held last week, available for you to view as well.)
Please take on a pledge: https://docs.google.com/…/1WIwX3jC34nF02IKdkqgHlL…/viewform…
To pre-donate https://www.charidy.com/neve

Thank you again for all your support.
The Neve Yerushalayim Family

​

​Dear friends,

Baruch Hashem, it’s been an ultra-busy week. Bnos Avigail went to Bnei Brak for Shabbos. We stayed at Batei Avot, a dormitory that was originally donated to the Ponevitzh Yeshiva by an upper-class English woman who was willing to help the Ponevitzh Rav, Rav Yosef Kahaneman in his efforts on behalf of Israel’s kids. After the war, there were literally thousands of orphans who needed a roof over their heads, and arguably something more crucial for their genuine survival and their ability to build a future for themselves, a Torah education that would give their lives meaning. She was not observant, nor did she admire those who are. She made a condition, “I don’t want to donate a building that will house boys who wear yarmulkes, and have tzitsit. I don’t want to bring them back to the ghetto”. The Rav didn’t bat an eyelash. He agreed wholeheartedly with her stipulations and kept them. He built a home for girls.
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When I was in school, the war was long over, and the orphans had gone on to marry and build their own homes. The building then became a dormitory for students who wanted to go to Bnei Brak’s esteemed seminary, and who didn’t live in Bnei Brak. It hasn’t changed much since my times. The curtains are new, and the portrait of the Lady is gone, but otherwise it is identical to the dorm I lived in. I wanted the girls to experience Bnei Brak the way I did, as a place where doing things right is not viewed as extreme, and where idealism is as normal as breathing air. 
 
We were fortunate enough to visit Rebbitzen Berman. She told us a story that was unbelievably moving. 
Her husband’s grandfather was the famous Steipler Gaon, and she was very much part of the Bnei Brak that I wanted to share. She began by asking if we think happiness comes from the inside or the outside. We all said (not surprisingly) that it comes from the inside. That set us up for her story.

The Steipler Gaon, Rav Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky was the acknowledged Gadol of his time. He had three sons in law, one of whom was Rebbitzen Berman’s father in law. When her father in law moved his young family into the house where the young Rebbitzen Berman now lives, things were very different than they are today. No one had boxes or crates. When you moved, you spread a sheet on the floor, put all of your belongings onto the sheet, and then tied the corners together, and repeated the process until all of your earthly possessions are in makeshift bundles. You then hire movers (not that there were actual professional movers, they were usually itinerant Arabs looking for whatever work they could get). They carried your bundles into your new home, dropped them on to the floor received their wages and left you to unpack.

The day the Berman’s moved was exactly as described. Their kids were young and loved the almost indescribable chaos of moving day. One of them got bored, and began playing with his toys. He threw one of the pieces into the toilet, which immediately became blocked and began to overflow onto the floor where all of the sheets were spread. 

What would you do?
I would freak out.

To make things worse, Rabbi Berman looked at his watch, and realized that 60 young men were waiting for him in the Beit Midrash of Ponevitzh. “Should I go?” he asked his wife. “Go! I’ll manage” she said, not believing that this was really happening to her. Moments later the door opened. It was her father in law, the Steipler Gaon, a man who rarely looked further than his Talmud. He immediately grasped the situation without her saying a word. He took off his hat, laid it on the table, and then took off his coat and did the same. He went for a plunger, unstuffed the toilet and took the sponja stick and began sweeping the water out.  What made this a lesson for life, is that he did this this all with a smile.

She knew why.

He knew he was doing exactly what the situation demands, He was doing what Hashem’s will for him was at that moment.

A person like that is always happy, because nothing on the outside can change his sense of being on the path, and being beloved for it.

Love,
Tziporah  

Dear friends,

Some of you may have known Rabbi Yosef Azar. 

I didn’t. I saw him at Neve over the course of many years, but I never actually spoke to him. He was nonetheless someone who I admired from afar. He always looked like he just came back to work after the best vacation ever. He seemed rested, full of high spirits and an almost tangible level of optimism and love of life. When he disappeared from the scene, at first I didn’t think much about it. In fact, I assumed that he might be involved in some sort of fundraising because he would be an amazing ambassador for Neve.  When his name appeared on the Tehillim board, with those who need our prayers because of illness, his name became part of my daily tefillah. It felt discordant. He just wasn’t the type.

He came back, and he looked (not surprisingly) like a poster boy for cancer treatment. The same relaxed upbeat persona, and the same observable connection with people. Then he stopped coming.

It didn’t occur to me that he was relapsing until his name reappeared on the list. He recently wrote a letter to the school in which he thanked us for our tefillah and tehillim and then went on to candidly discuss his condition. He was on a new type of chemo, one that left him less wiped out. There was no hint of resentment in his being “less” wiped out, only gratitude.  Maybe it would shrink his tumor enough for a future surgery. He didn’t seem at all concerned with the possibility that maybe it wouldn’t, even though it was evident that the reality of his condition didn’t escape him.  It was clear that he felt that everything is as it should be, “According to plan”, and that there was no reason to complain.

I was unable to attend his funeral, since I was in Kiryat Sefer, which if anything makes the finality of his passing more elusive. There was something so full of light about him, that it’s difficult to just let go.
The first thing that the Torah tells us about the world is that it was chaotic, desolate, dark and had seemingly unfathomable depths. Hashem imposed spiritual light over that waters when He willed it to come into being. Rashi tells us that this light (which isn’t physical- the sun was created later) was concealed Where?

The Chasam Sofer quotes a verse from Tehillim that says, “Light is planted in a tzadik, and those whose hearts are straight have joy.” A tzadik is someone whose good deeds outweigh their bad deeds. Not quantitatively. They outweigh the bad deeds qualitatively. The word “outweigh” tells you that some deeds have greater spiritual impact than others. Suppose, for a minute, that you have a chronic case of yentitis (the need to gossip, to stay “in the know” and to exercise daily by jumping to conclusions). You go to a class reunion and can’t’ wait to share your insights. Your High School chums used to be younger, thinner etc. You want to give an honest report about each of them, to anyone who shows even polite interest.  If you somehow manage to resist, you made a real dent in your character, and this can be a genuine brick in the you, you call “self”.  On a one to ten scale, what number would you use to describe your victory?  Try another scenario. Envision yourself in the midst of a bitter divorce, one in which your soon-to-be ex is relentlessly trying to prove himself “right” by presenting you as “borderline” (the favorite cliché in the world of current psycho-babble). No one will ask him for his professional credentials…You want to answer each accusation with “the truth” (which under the circumstances by the nature of things is the truth as you see it, which may or may not be the entire truth). Words like “abusive” and “controlling” can roll off your tongue freely. No one will ask for your credentials any more than they asked him for his credentials. 

And you remain silent.
Because,
You know the truth. 
No one is asking you for a recommendation as a future marriage partner. You are not even legally divorced. People want some drama and spice, and the thrill of being vicariously part of a drama. And you remain silent.

Your silence is enough to turn an ordinary person into a tzadik. It’s a 10.  A tzadik is described as being someone who has the brilliant light of the first day implanted in his heart. When a seed is put into the ground, its inherent life force causes it to sprout. This causes the original shell that encased it to burst. The forces of evil are called “shells” or “husks” in Kabbalah language. They hold your capacity for light, your life force and vitality prisoner unless you are strong enough to make it burst. Someone who can hear themselves humiliated and not respond, is considered as strong as the sun at its most powerful moments.
Where does the strength come from?

There is an even higher level. There are people who have a natural goodness about them. They are described as “yishrei lev” having straight hearts. How do you get there?  The answer that the Chasam Sofer gives is through having simchah. Joy in being. In learning. In doing mitzvos. 
We just lost one of the “baalei simcha”- one of the masters of joy.

I didn’t know him, speak to him or do anything but see him from afar. It’s enough to make me want to bring some of what he was into myself.
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Love,
Tziporah

​Dear friends,

The season is over

But not really.

The holy days touch you, they can (and hopefully will!) stay with you forever. There is something that the Kabbalists call “rishimu” which means an impression. Even when the flash of light passes, it leaves something of itself behind, and that “something” is real enough to take with you as you travel through this newly born year.

Step back a minute and think about how you felt when you heard the shofar at Yom Kippur’s end. It tells you (whether or not you realize it) that you are ready. A feeling of the victory of good over Other took place, one that you may not feel is real or enduring because you (at least on the surface) are the same old you. 
You aren’t.

No one stays the same. The rishimu is here, and it can be accessed again. There are three major moves you can make to retain something of the light that is really there, but hard to find when you are (like all of us) so drawn into a world that grabs your feelings and your time.
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1. NOTICE WHEN YOU HAVE A CHOICE IN FRONT OF YOU.

 Janice* went to a Shabbaton sponsored by a kiruv organization that she has been part of since she was a clueless student who wanted a free dinner.  It was something of a milestone for her. She was going to be giving a workshop, and that placed her squarely on the side of the people who are there to give, and who have something to give. Once she was there only to get. Those days are over. Her talk was far more successful than she had imagined it would be. She had been able to give more than ideas or words, she gave something of herself, and when you do that all of the walls fall down. Now it was time for the meal to begin. Everyone streamed into the hotel’s dining room. As she surveyed the tables, she intuitively felt someone right behind her coming closer than she liked. Turning around to see who was about to invade her personal space, she noticed Cathy. “Can we sit together”, the girl asked with undisguised enthusiasm. Janice’s first thought was, “Oh no”. She didn’t want to sit next to Cathy. Her initial revulsion was followed by a stream-of-consciousness effort to find some excuse, any excuse to avoid the young woman behind her. Cathy was socially awkward, loquacious, and highly opinionated and worst of all, extremely vulnerable. There was one problem that prevented Janice from latching on to one of the excuses she had already mind. The best of them being“I would love to, but I am supposed to mix so I can meet the new people” was. The topic of her workshop was, “Jewish Unity – Fact or Fiction”. It was too soon for her to delete the message she had presented so sincerely.

She knew she faced a choice; What she preached was, “You should genuinely like people who make you feel good (by entertaining, listening or whatever) or like everyone because they are part of the Tribe.” What was she going to practice? 

2-RECOGNIZE THAT YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING TO ACTUALIZE THE POTENTIAL THAT MAKING A MEANINGFUL CHOICE OFFERS.
Janice knew that she could have just smiled, and continued walking. No bad feelings, no overt rejection. She could have said “sure” and headed off to the rest room hoping that there would be no more places left for two people. Passivity can be very inviting. Instead, because she wanted to be a person with enough integrity to walk her talk, Janice did something she had never done before. She asked herself whether Cathy is any less valuable than she is. She had liked the question well enough to make it the core of her next presentation. Cathy is part of her, part of the whole, part of the great and unique Unity of Hashem. She won. She found herself saying, “Sure. Let’s go further in. I think that someone there is leaving”.

3-AFTER YOU DO WHATEVER YOU CAN, LET GO AND LET HASHEM DETERMINE WHAT THE RESULTS OF YOUR CHOICES WILL BE, HE WILL HELP YOU MOVE FORWARD
“I see that there are two places right in the front, near Rabbi Cohen’s table” Janice said when it seemed that no one was leaving after all “Great!”. Rabbi Cohen’s wife came into the ballroom, found the table in seconds, and went back to the entrance to escort her aged mother to the table. The two places were clearly taken. After looking around, it was equally clear that there were not two places together available at the same table.  Cathy turned around, and said, “You know what, Janice? I hope it isn’t going to make you feel bad, but I see a seat next to Leora, and I really would like to catch up with her. We both originally come from Cape Town, and I’m sure you’ll understand.” Janice understood. 

Hashem let her stretch beyond her comfort level, but then took over once again. The next time a situation like this one arises, Janice will respond in a way that is spontaneous, smooth, and most significantly, real. She is like a runner, whose coach got him to the finish line.

Keep the story (or one like it) with you. It has what is arguably the most important message of all; You are strong enough to do it! You can make changes that are genuine enough and subtle enough to make you much closer to doing the job for which you were created.

Love,
Tziporah

Dear friends,

One of the more interesting things about having a large family, is the huge age difference between the children. The way things work, is that you are actually raising several different generations simultaneously.  When the older ones marry, things get more complicated. The children of the older ”generation” are more or less the same age as the children of your younger” generation…”.

Envision this happening on an ordinary Shabbos afternoon. The girls are schmoozing in the kitchen. Four boys who are brothers, but of different “generations”, are hanging out in the living room. The four- year old built a really huge tower using magnablox. It’s far bigger than he is, and he is standing on the couch to add what presumably will be the penthouse, since there are no more pieces for another story. Suddenly the entire structure meets the fate of all kid-built towers; it crashes to the floor. The little boy begins to cry inconsolably. His older brother who just entered yeshiva ketana (high school age yeshiva) says, in the manner of unsympathetic teenage boys “you don’t even know what’s worth crying over. I’m in trouble with the mashgiach. That’s real.”. The twenty-two-year-old says, “That’s nothing. Apologize and grow up. You don’t know what real life is about. The last date I had was a disaster.  I really wanted it to work, but she doesn’t want to see me again. That’s the real stuff”. The 35-year-old interjects, “Forget it. You’ll find the right one when Hashem wants you to. You can’t imagine the stress of meeting mortgage payments and paying tuition at the same time. You don’t know how demanding raising a family is”. They are all right. They have all forgotten some things, and are not as yet willing or able to see other things. Enter their worlds, so you can see something of yourself in them.

Be the four-year-old. Did you forget how much fun it was to build your fantasy with the brightly colored tiles? How important it is for you to see them crash so you can move on to things that are more real.

Be the fifteen- year old. Did you forget how much you love the moment your mom took you to buy your clothes, as you saw yourself moving into another phase, one that has more truth and more power. How much you want to shine, and how the mashgiach is there to help you not fall back.

Be the twenty-two-year old. Did you forget how much you want to see yourself move beyond being a piece in what is ultimately someone else’s puzzle. How each date gave you hope that your time has finally come. How much you want it to be the right one, and how honest you have to be about how both of you have to be on the same page, and what an important lesson this will be later.

Be the thirty-five-year-old. Did you forget how struggling and sacrifice turns you into the kind of hero you want more than anything to be, and how your kids and your responsibilities build you more than they take from you.

Why am I telling you all this? With Rosh Hashanah rapidly approaching, it’s important for you to have a deeper and broader vision of who you are, and what it is you really want in the coming year. You want to live a meaningful life, which ultimately means having a real connection to Hashem. You don’t want to spend the next 50 years doing the equivalent of weeping over fallen pieces of plastic. 
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One of the customs for Elul is reciting Tehillim 27. Arguably the most meaningful line is “I ask for one thing; it’s that that I seek; to live in Hashem’s House all the days of my life….” Being in Hashem’s house in the simplest sense means living to see the Bais HaMikdash. King David, the author of this psalm lived before the Temple was built. He wanted to be close to Hashem, surrounded by His presence. Aware of being a member of His community and living a life in which every day and every activity has meaning.
David was a king. His function was to act as a living example of what it means to let the ultimate king, Hashem rule. He had to relate to Hashem with absolute selflessness. He was forbidden to have the horses, women, and money that gave other rulers their sense of importance. His role was to be part of the greater picture continually.

On Rosh Hashanah, your main task is to commit yourself to being conscious of how much you want Hashem to be your ruler. Not your ego. No other people’s voices from your past or your present. Not your bank account (or lack thereof…) and certainly not your body’s endless demands.

One week of Elul is behind us. It’s a good time to think about how free you can be if you let Hashem be your own ruler. How much more fun life is when you see the whole process, and not just the incomplete episodes.

Now be yourself
Forgetful
Stuck in the visions of fragmentation
Longing for the Whole
And
Make room for it
 
Love,
Tziporah