English Blog

Our highly anticipated gala dinner will be held this coming Monday night at Cipriani Wall Street. It’s our annual fundraiser for our extensive Belev Echad program, in which we provide a complex network of services to the severely injured men and women of the IDF, helping to restore their lives. 

The gala does not come together easily. It is a herculean effort; six months of intense planning. But year after year, it pays off. The evening is one of inspiration and motivation that keeps people thinking and talking and coming back. 

The gala filled up about two weeks ago, but we kept reservations open. No longer are we full, now we’re overfull. We’re at complete and utter capacity—more than 1,200 people! We cannot admit a single extra person and we have a tremendous waitlist. In fact, we’re pleading with people to please, please let us know if they have to cancel at the last minute so that we can give their tickets to those who are still hoping for a spot. 

Anyone who has previously attended knows that they will walk out feeling deeply moved and uplifted, connected to Israel, and like a valuable member of our Upper East Side and Belev Echad communities, and our nation as a whole. They know they’ll be entertained, wined and dined, in good company, with new and old friends, meeting the soldiers, and creating memories that will stay with them for years to come. 

Here’s the astonishing part: Despite being sold out, despite being costly (although for a good cause), the flood of phone calls, emails, and texts from people eager to attend hasn’t abated! It’s clear our event has struck a chord and we’re grateful for the enthusiasm. We have a long list of people waiting, and if we can accommodate anyone we absolutely will. 

It’s human nature to want what one can’t have. It’s the phenomenon of desire and scarcity. When something is in high demand and limited in supply, our desire for it intensifies. The good old, "You always want what you can't have." It’s simply how we operate. 

In our spiritual journey, we often face similar dynamics. Things that are off-limits (forbidden fruit, for example) are all the more alluring. 

But it is our responsibility to learn to appreciate what we do have: Torah, mitzvot, and an indelible connection to the Creator of the Universe. 

So, let's take a step back and appreciate the abundance we have, rather than constantly yearning for what we can't have. Let's focus on the present moment and the blessings that surround us.

Thank you for your support. We look forward to a moving and uplifting evening at Cipriani!

I traveled to Toronto this week for the wedding of my nephew Levi Vigler to Tzipi Nachlas. It was a beautiful celebration, filled with so much energy, joy, and dancing.

I took my 13 year-old son Zalman with me, and we flew in literally just for the day.

We left the wedding at the end of the night, got to bed around midnight, and woke up at 4:30 a.m. to catch our 7:00 a.m. flight back to NYC. I figured the odds of the airport being full at the crack of dawn—even for an international flight—were low, so we didn’t leave to the airport until 5:30 a.m.

Before we were even at the airport, my brother-in-law who was also flying home and was already in line, texted me that there were extremely long lines at passport control.

Oy vey! I was not happy. I hate long lines.

Well, when we got to the airport I headed to the TSA pre-check line, but when we got to the front of the line the security officer sent us back to the main line since my son does not have TSA precheck like I do.

The same thing happened at passport control. The line was hundreds deep. My brother-in-law had been in line for 40 minutes already and had not made much progress. I headed to Global Entry where there were no lines, but again, I was turned away because my son doesn’t have Global Entry, only I do. I felt sure I’d used global entry before with my kids, but perhaps it was when they were much younger.

Not only did she send me all the way to the back of the impossibly long line, she wrote a stern warning in my profile that if I ever dare to try doing this again, I’ll be banned from Global Entry for 10 years!

I knew there was no way I’d make it to my flight at this point, so I started considering my options. What a waste of a day! And we could have slept more than 4.5 hours!

My brother-in-law then called me and told me not to get into the line. “Download the MPC app,” he advised.

“I’ve never heard of this, what is MPC?” I asked.

“Mobile Passport Control app,” he explained. “Download it and follow the instructions and you can skip the line.”

What did I have to lose? I downloaded the app and followed the prompts, and within three minutes I was bypassing all the lines!

My brother-in-law ended up waiting in line for an hour. Fortunately, he had gotten there earlier than we had and he made the flight on time. I surely would not have.

And then I started wondering, how come nobody uses MPC? Why are hundreds of people waiting in line for a passport stamp while the MPC line is literally empty?

There are even signs all over the airport telling people to download the app, and yet nobody—myself included—knows about it! It’s just as efficient as Global Entry, only it’s an app.

I took away two lessons from this experience:

1. We all have problems, and sometimes the solution is right in front of us—literally staring us in the face—and we still don’t see it. We need to actually open our eyes and look!
2. There’s a certain ease and security that comes with following the crowd. But just because everyone is following the same path, doesn’t mean it’s the correct or best one. Sometimes the solution is one that most people don’t even know about.

Well, I guess now you all know about it, too, so go ahead, download the app and skip the line next time you travel. You’ll be glad you did.

My wife and I were sitting together last week, when an email notification came in from our website, informing us that we’d received a donation of $250,000!

We are in the middle of our annual fundraising gala season, so thank G-d many donations are coming through. That wasn’t unusual. But receiving one for such a large number from a name neither of us recognized, now that is unusual.

We both wracked our minds and looked through our contacts to see if we could figure out who Mary was, but we came up blank.

Next, we wondered if it was a scam.

A quick Google search revealed that Mary was a real person with a Park Avenue address. Moreover, how many people have credit cards that will allow them to transfer $250,000? But the payment did actually come through, so we figured it must be a legitimate donation. Astounding!

I did some rapid mental calculations and within a minute or two had already figured out how we would spend the money to help our severely wounded soldiers with items they need.

The euphoria lasted for exactly nine minutes.

Mary called our office and apologized profusely for the mistake, explaining that she had intended to donate $250, not $250,000. And just like that, in the span of 10 minutes, we had made $250,000 and then lost $250,000. Unfortunately, because of our credit card processor fee, that well-intended donation of $250 actually ended up costing us almost $8000.

The Baal Shem Tov taught that everything we see and experience in life contains a lesson for us in our spiritual service. Here are three lessons I’m taking from this experience:

1. Life is full of highs and lows, every day, in every arena. The one immovable truth is our Father in Heaven. In all situations, whether we’re up $250K or down $250K, we know that G-d is with us and show gratitude for everything He provides.

2. There are no shortcuts in life! You have to work hard to make $250K. I am sure Hashem is looking out for us and will send us what we need through another avenue.

3. Every dollar we make is predetermined by G-d on Rosh Hashanah. It is our responsibility to create a vessel for His blessings to pour forth. Why He gave us 250K and then took it away nine minutes later I do not know, but perhaps it was to remind us that all money comes from Heaven.

This past Sunday morning, I was standing outside our Chabad center waiting for a minyan. Nine of us were already there, so the hunt was on for a tenth.

I asked a passing gentleman if was Jewish, and he confirmed he was. I asked if he could join us for a minyan and he wanted to know how long it would take. “Fifteen minutes,” I responded, figuring that’s how long it would take for our expected tenth (who must’ve overslept) to arrive.

He introduced himself as Moishele and agreed. “But no more than 15 minutes,” he insisted. “I’m really in a rush.”

With my reassurance, he came inside. I handed him a kippah and went to get my extra pair of tefillin.

I asked him when he last put on tefillin and discovered that he never had.

“Wow! This is your bar mitzvah!” I explained. The first time a person puts on tefillin—no matter what age they are—is considered their bar mitzvah, until which they retain the spiritual designation of “karkafta.”

We recited the Shema together and joyously wished him mazal tov, excited to celebrate such a special occasion right before Yom Kippur.

Before the 15 minutes were up, our tenth man came, freeing our visitor to leave, but first he told us: “I’m from Asheville, North Carolina,” he told us. “Our city has been devastated by Hurricane Helene. The only reason I agreed to enter the shul for 15 minutes today was to pray for my city.”

We don’t know why G-d sends natural disasters, but Hurricane Helene directly led to our new friend Moishele having his bar mitzvah.

Helene was followed by Milton just yesterday, both leaving immense destruction in their wake.

To form, hurricanes require two key ingredients: powerful winds and warm ocean waters.

As we approach Yom Kippur, we also need to harness these two ingredients—warmth and strength—to create a spiritual hurricane: good deeds, compassion, helping others, giving charity, etc.

We’re moments away from the holiest day of the year—a day to connect with G-d, our essence, our souls. While we pray for those affected by the devastation caused by Helene and Milton, let’s create winds of love to feed a bigger, more powerful spiritual hurricane.

Last year, we all assembled in shul on Rosh Hashanah and prayed for the year ahead. We asked for a good year, a sweet year, a year filled with health, happiness, prosperity and nachas from our children. 

Who could have imagined the horrific, monstrous onslaught we would face on Simchat Torah just three weeks later?

Could we even have conceived of our enemies surprising us, attacking us in our homes, slaughtering 1,200 Jews in cold blood, wounding thousands more, and kidnapping 252 men, women, and children? 

14,000 soldiers have since been wounded and the year-long war does not appear to be slowing down at all. The opposite—it is intensifying, with new fronts in the north. 

It’s been a year. A year of terror, fear, hope, disappointment, prayer and protest. 

It has been a year since the reawakening of Antisemitisim and the unignorable realization that we are hated all over the world. Never has it been clearer that we are a nation who dwells alone. 

But through this entire period, we have absorbed two vital lessons: 1. We need each other. 2. We need G-d. 

It has been an extraordinarily humbling year. We’ve seen firsthand that even with our mighty army we are not invincible. In fact, we are vulnerable, surrounded on all sides by enemies only too eager to join in and murder us.

At the same time, it’s been a year replete with miracles and love. We’ve been forced to dig deep within ourselves and realize how much we need one another. 

I met *Rotem last week—a soldier who came to New York with our Belev Echad program. Rotem served in the special forces and was wounded in battle, becoming paralyzed from the waist down. He also lost his left hand and is confined to a wheelchair. 

Rotem was supposed to be married last week, but he postponed the wedding. “I need another four months to do therapy to be able to walk again,” he insisted. “I promise I will walk under that chuppah!” 

Rotem has been broken and beaten but retains unshakeable faith that he will walk again. Fortunately, he has the most incredible friends who support and believe in him. 

This is the spirit of our people, Am Yisrael! We have been broken and beaten but we hold on to our hope and optimism for the future.

In a few days, we will all gather in shul again to crown G-d as our King. The thing our Father in Heaven loves most is when his children get along. This year, let us beseech G-d to send us only revealed good—good that is clear and apparent to our limited human eyes. 

May He bless us all with a shana tova—a good, sweet year with the return of our hostages, peace and healing for our people, and the coming of Moshiach and the Ultimate Redemption.

In a miracle equivalent to those of Biblical times, Israel stunned the world this week by targeting Hezbollah operatives via their beeper and walkie-talkies in an incredible and daring operation. 

It was an operation unprecedented in scale—genius, calculated, and obviously with G-d’s help—devastating Hezbollah’s capabilities. 

The Baal Shem Tov, founder of Chassidism, taught that everything we see or encounter contains a lesson for us in our service of G-d. Here are 7 lessons from the pager operation we can apply to our own lives: 

1. Strike your enemy when they least expect it! Utilize the element of surprise. In our personal battles against the Yetzer Hara (evil inclination), we often face challenges and obstacles that seem insurmountable. Surprise yourself by donning tefillin or by keeping Shabbat “just because” – when even you expect it the least!

2. Identify where your enemy feels most secure and strike there. Hezbollah terrorists were outfitted with beepers because they believed the old technology was more secure and couldn’t be hacked. In our lives, we need to stay vigilant with our mitzvah observance. Don’t become complacent with what you did this year—add something new!

3. Pulling off an operation like this requires a tremendous amount of planning and patience. Plans had to be constructed months—maybe even years—in advance. Likewise, in life, nothing good can be accomplished without hard work and detailed planning. 

4. From when the idea was conceived until this week when it was realized, the operation required a huge amount of courage and determination. With courage and determination we can succeed in our lives!  

5. In order to facilitate the attack, many many people had to learn to work together. There were teams in Europe, teams on the ground, all coordinating and working together towards one goal. As Jews, only by being united can we overcome all the odds stacked against us!

6. When evil stares you in the face, make no mistake: it must be destroyed. There is no room for error or ambiguity; terrorists and evil can only be dealt with in one way, which is exactly what happened here!

7. Even with meticulous planning and effort, so many things can go wrong at the last second. Faith in G-d played a crucial role here. Let us place our faith in Him now and always! He will certainly help us. 

May these lessons inspire us to confront our personal battles with courage, determination, and faith.

Our organization, Belev Echad, brings wounded IDF soldiers to the USA for medical care and whirlwind restorative outings. At this point, we’ve probably run over 75 trips. Our community jumps at the chance to show appreciation and treat our heroes to the finest that NYC has to offer. 

We’ve faced all kinds of challenges along the way, but our most recent trip was the most challenging yet. The wounds and injuries these soldiers carry are indescribable. While we’ve brought soldiers in wheelchairs and those missing limbs before, this trip was unique because the objective of the trip was to custom-make prosthetics for soldiers in need (and to receive treatment that isn’t available in Israel). This meant that we had many extremely complicated injuries all at once which made it extremely difficult to handle.

At the last minute, the mother of a wounded soldier called and begged us to add her son to the trip. Despite being full, we couldn’t say no to a mother’s desperate plea–these prosthetics are so advanced they literally change lives–so we added him to the group, making us essentially “overbooked.” 

For the past two weeks, I’ve been troubled by the thought of one soldier in particular, “M,” whose injuries cause him indescribable pain 24 hours a day. M served in Israel’s most elite force. He is a career soldier and decorated hero. 

On October 7, he rushed to help, saving many lives, until he and his team were ambushed by terrorists and completely overwhelmed. He was shot multiple times and has hundreds of pieces of shrapnel lodged in his body that cannot be removed. His injuries are so complex and unique, it’s a miracle he’s alive. He cannot sit for more than a few minutes; the rest of the time he needs to lie down. He cannot sit in a car.

I worried how we would manage. How would we transport him? Was it a mistake to include him? Perhaps we should cancel? Or bring him on a future trip? But he wanted to come and see the top NY experts, so how could we refuse?

In addition to figuring out how to manage M’s care, we had another Belev Echad trip planned–to Los Angeles–and two of our most valuable team members had to be leave to attend that, leaving us short-staffed on our highest-needs trip yet!

Thank G-d, our community got involved. One person donated a driver and car, and another donated their time to join the group. Another donated a hotel. And many people jumped at the opportunity to sponsor events and take the soldiers out at night to restaurants. Still, we were left with the problem of what to do with M, and I was genuinely unsure how to manage. 

Then, on Friday afternoon, two days before the trip, I received a call from someone I’d never met, Jack,* who told me he knew M from his time in the army and wanted to join us for Shabbat. He was so excited that M was coming to NY and he really wanted to help in any way possible.

During the call, I asked Jack about his job, and he shared that he had volunteered to serve in Gaza for a few months, and when he returned to NY he was laid off. So I shared my concerns and asked if he could dedicate a full 9 days to being with M from the morning until late at night, so M could participate fully. Jack readily agreed and jumped on the mitzvah! I was so relieved and told Jack he’d taken away my primary worry of the previous two weeks. 

I truly believe that when we push ourselves to do a mitzvah, G-d helps us find a way. I pushed hard to make this trip happen, despite the tremendous and complicated logistics, and G-d send Jack to help realize my goals. I believe that with any mitzvah, if you just make the decision to do something good, then Hashem will find a way to help you make your dream come true!

So go ahead and make your commitment to do a mitzvah. G-d will help you find a way to fulfill it! 

*Names changed to protect privacy.

The entire Jewish world is reeling.

Our enemies are ruthless and sadistic; their barbarism unprecedented.

To live at a time when six Jews can be murdered in cold blood, execution style, is unthinkable. Nauseating. Infuriating. Incomprehensible.

Carmel.

Alexander.

Almog.

Ori.

Eden.

Hersh.

They are our family. Our brothers and sisters. Each one an entire world.

And the silence is deafening.

My family and I were in Israel when we heard the news. We watched the protests break out. And then the counter-protests. It felt like the entire country was protesting. The emotions were so raw, the pain so deep, everyone felt the need to do something.

Sunday night we were in Tel Aviv and couldn’t get back to Jerusalem because the roads were closed due to the protests. Then my sister sent me a notice that the airport was going to be shut down by a strike the next day, exactly when we were scheduled to fly back to New York.

We decided to wake up early and hope for the best, bracing ourselves for a long day at the airport. We arrived at 7:30 am and immediately noticed news and camera crews on hand to witness the strike, which was set to begin at 8:00 am. At 8:07 am we were at the El Al check-in counter and I asked the attendant, “Is there a strike today?” She looked at her watch and said, “Well, yes, there is supposed to be one and I am supposed to be striking, but I don't know …”  Thank G-d, we made it onto the flight and the flight left on time.

We needed to get back so the kids could start school on time, but like the protesters, I too feel like I need to do something. We all do. The pain is so raw, the fury so potent. What should we do? What can we do? How can this be happening?

The truth is, we don’t have the answers.

Obviously, the military will do everything in its power to rescue the rest of the hostages and eliminate our ruthless and brutal enemy.

But we simply don’t understand G-d’s ways. How could He allow such evil to exist in His beautiful world?

Amidst all of this pain, Jon Goldberg-Polin’s words at his son Hersh’s funeral struck a chord. “May the memory of my son be a revolution.”

Now that is something we can do. We need to create a revolution with the tools at our disposal: kindness. Nothing is more powerful in the face of evil than love and kindness.

The terrorists don’t differentiate between religious or non-religious Jews, between right-wing and left-wing Jews. To them, we are all simply Jewish. 

We too, must not differentiate. Love all Jews equally. We only have each other. Ignore the differences; embrace unity. We share a core, an essence, a soul. When we are united, no force in the world can break us.

The terrorists sow evil, it’s up to us to harvest kindness. Give charity, even when it’s hard. Invite guests for Shabbat, even when you’re tired. Go out of your way to help others, even if it’s inconvenient.

Do it for us.

Do it for Carmel, Eden, Ori, Hersh, Almog and Alexander.

Do it for the remaining hostages who we desperately hope will be returned alive soon.

May Moshiach come now, end all evil, and reunite us with all our Jewish brothers and sisters. Amen.

My family and I are scheduled to travel to Israel this month, but the other day my six-year-old son turned to me and said “I don’t want to go to Israel.” When I pressed him for a reason, he said, “Because there is a war going on there.”

I was so surprised. How does he know?!

For the last 10 days, every morning we wake up to the headlines:

“American intelligence indicates there will be an imminent attack from Iran and its proxies.”

“US intelligence estimates that Iran has shelved its attack.”

“Mossad says the attack is back on.”

“Attack coming, but limited.”

“Iran will attack through Hezbollah.”

“Attack on hold for hostage negotiations, US says.”

It’s nerve-wracking for us, how much more so for Israelis who are truly living on the edge! The constant back and forth, will there be an attack or no attack? When? What can we do? We can’t keep living like this! It’s exhausting.

A Major in the IDF once told me that only a fool will tell you “War is not imminent,” and only a fool will tell you “War is about to break out.”

Absolutely nobody knows what will happen—not the chief of staff, not the defense minister, and not the prime minister. Not even the Iranians or the ayatollahs! The Middle East is such a volatile place; things change so rapidly that we simply know nothing. Any tiny episode can ignite the region in flames in seconds.

So, how do we continue living in such anxiety-ridden times? As it is, we Jews are anxious people!

Although it may seem counterintuitive, it is precisely at times like these that we give ourselves over to the Almighty G-d and tell Him, “We don’t have the answers, we don’t know what will be, but You do and we place our trust and our lives in Your hands!”

The only One who knows precisely what will happen, when, and how, is G-d. The world runs according to his schedule precisely!

Facing such tremendous uncertainty, we turn to the only thing that is true and solid in this world: Torah and mitzvot. By studying Torah and committing to the mitzvot, we fortify ourselves the best way we know how.

So while we may not know whether there will be another war in Israel now, we do know—without a shadow of doubt—that G-d will protect us as He has done for so many years!

And so I responded to my six-year-old son: “Of course we are going to Israel. Israel is the safest place on planet Earth—G-d keeps His eyes on the Land year-round. Unless, of course, the airline cancels, in which case we won’t be able to fly.

A couple of weeks ago, my wife and I embarked on a quick three-day getaway to the breathtakingly beautiful island of Capri, in the south of Italy. We spent one day touring the incredible Amalfi Coast, setting out on a hike that would take us to the famed “Path of God”— 

an immensely popular mountain trail about 4.34 miles long, at the dizzying height of 2065ft above sea level. The views were indeed heavenly, but the heat was sweltering, with temperatures soaring to over 100 degrees.

As we hiked, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at Hashem's incredible creation. The scenery was like nothing I had ever seen before. Along the way, I met fellow hikers and asked them how much farther we had to go. Each person encouraged me, saying we still had hours to go, but the views would be well worth it. As we hiked, I started conversations with every passerby. We met tourists from every part of the world. Australians, Europeans, Americans, Africans, Asians—you name it, they were there. We had some great conversations, but alas, nobody was Jewish.

As I always do when traveling, I carried my tefillin in my backpack, along with water and other essentials. It's a habit I've developed over the years, because what could be greater than meeting a fellow Jew and doing a mitzvah together?

As we climbed higher, we met a fellow hiker named Mike. He told me he was from Italy, and when I asked if he was Jewish, he said no. Further probing uncovered that his mother was in fact Jewish and Ukrainian, making Mike Jewish too!

I couldn't believe the coincidence. I whipped out my tefillin and asked Mike if he had ever put them on before. He said no, so I offered to perform a belated bar mitzvah ceremony for him right there on the mountain! We recited the Shema together, and I wrapped the tefillin around his arm. He was so excited to perform this mitzvah in the sweltering heat amid stunning views! As we danced and took a selfie together, it was impossible to ignore the stunning Italian peninsula in the background.

Little did we know that this very place had a complex history. In 1541, the Jewish community was banished from the kingdom of Naples. Yet, here we were, two Jews, standing on the Path of God, performing a bar mitzvah ceremony, proudly and publicly celebrating our heritage in a place where Jews were once forbidden.

I found it ironic that the hike we were on was called the Path of God. Indeed it truly is the path of G-d—or rather, the path to G-d, where the spark of Judaism was ignited in Mike’s neshama.

The encounter with Mike taught me a valuable lesson: As Jews, it does not matter where we are from. Whether we’re Italian, French, Russian, Ukrainian, American, African or Asian, once we find the common connection of our souls we see that we are all brothers and sisters.

We are currently in the 9 days of mourning, when our main focus needs to be on uncovering the common denominator that we all share, to realize that at our core we share a deep soul connection.

As I reflect on my unforgettable experience, I realize that our chance encounter on the Path of God was more than just a coincidence. It was a reminder that our traditions and beliefs can bring us together in the most beautiful and unexpected ways. So, let us embrace our differences, celebrate our shared humanity, and never miss an opportunity to connect with others and make a positive impact on the world around us.

Today is a tense day. Israel has shown remarkable courage by striking Yemen, Lebanon, and now the heart of Tehran, and our enemies are furious. Hezbollah has just announced that we have entered a new stage of the war. Hamas has called for a day of intense rage. Ayatollah Ali Khamenei has authorized a direct attack on Israel in response to Haniyeh's assassination. Intelligence indicators from Iran suggest they will launch hundreds of ballistic missiles and drones at Israel, a larger strike than the one they unleashed in April. Iran, Hezbollah, Iraqi militias, and Yemen will likely try to saturate the air defense and draw blood for Hamas. Israel and the US have been in ongoing talks throughout the day, planning for a possible multi-front attack.

The Chief Rabbis of Israel have issued special instructions for this coming Shabbat, such as what to do if a siren sounds during the Amidah, whether or not to go to shul for a minyan, and instructions for leaving a radio on in the background throughout Shabbat.

United, Delta, and other airlines have canceled their flights. The American embassy is warning against traveling to northern Israel.

Our enemies are more determined than ever to destroy us—not just in Israel, but all over the globe. In NY, London, Paris, Johannesburg, Sydney—everywhere there are Jews, tensions are heightened and displays of violent antisemitism have become bolder and louder. The National Security Council recommends reconsidering all travel abroad and avoiding outward displays of Jewish and Israeli identities, citing threats from Iran, Hamas, and Hezbollah.

So, what can we do?

The truth is that our enemies are stronger than us, more numerous, and better armed. We are a tiny nation, only 0.2 percent of the world’s population. Our enemies outnumber us by far!

But we have a secret weapon: our dear Father in Heaven, Almighty G-d. Hashem has been with us for 4,000 years, through threats and persecutions. We have not only survived, but flourished, and we are still here. That's why we have nothing to fear. G-d is in control, and we are His beloved children. So there is no reason to be nervous and absolutely no cause for panic! We should all remain calm and place our trust in Hashem.

What can we do practically? Do a good deed, help a neighbor, give charity, put on tefillin, light Shabbat candles, and keep kosher. Do it for yourself, your friend, and the world. The power of a mitzvah is infinite and reverberates throughout the universe. Your mitzvah today can destroy the weapons of our enemies!

L’chaim to a peaceful Shabbat!

Last week, I drove my kids into the city. It was just me and six of them in the car. No wife with me.

They all climbed inside and I turned on the music for a nice, uneventful ride.

Well, the uneventful part was short-lived, to say the least. All of three minutes in, one of the triplets, Avigayil, started screaming and crying. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” I asked. 

She didn’t answer, so I asked her triplet brothers. 

“Yehuda pinched her,” Dovid said, explaining that she moved a couple of inches too close to him. 

My options for dealing with the situation while driving were limited. Normally, when Shevy is with me, I drive and she deals with their fights. But here I was alone. 

So I asked the older girls sitting in the middle row if I could move Avigayil up with them, so she wouldn’t be near her brothers. Unfortunately, they adamantly refused. 

Oi gevalt! What now?

So I resorted to my next best option: bribery. 

“Look, there’s a gas station about halfway there that sells kosher, chalav yisrael ice cream,” I told Yehuda. “There are only a handful like it in the whole country! If you behave and don’t pinch anyone else, I’ll buy you ice cream when we get there.” 

He didn’t answer, but I saw he was listening and I know he loves ice cream. Surely, this would do the trick. 

Feeling proud of myself, I continued driving. Avigayil had calmed down. Music was blaring. I breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so good at this, I can do this,” I told myself. 

Not 30 seconds later, Avigayil was again crying hysterically.

“What happened this time?”

“Yehuda pinched her and pulled her hair.” 

Now what was I to do? I really needed my wife!

So I said, “Yehuda, look, I’ll give you one more chance. If you don’t pull anyone’s hair or pinch anyone, I’ll buy everyone ice cream. I know you all love ice cream! But this is your last chance. One more step out of line and nobody gets ice cream. 

Avigayil calmed down and I breathed a sigh of relief. Baruch Hashem, thank you G-d!

Not 25 seconds passed before Avigayil was crying hysterically again. According to Dovid, Yehuda pinched her again and very hard!

That’s it! I pulled off the highway onto the shoulder meant for emergencies. This is definitely an emergency! I brought Avigayil to sit in the middle row with her sisters, away from the boys. That’s it. No more fighting, no more pinching. Out of arm’s reach. 

And we continued on our way. This time, thank G-d, all was peaceful. 

About 10 minutes from Manhattan, Yehuda pipes up, “Where is my ice cream?”

I was incredulous! I looked at them, all playing and chatting so nicely together, even him and Avigayil—no remnants of the pinches, hair pulling or screaming. Nada. As if nothing had ever happened, they were best friends all along, and he wants his ice cream!

How could it be? Half an hour ago they were ready to kill each other! Apparently, it had completely slipped his mind at this point!

I shook my head and realized what an incredible lesson there is for all of us to see here. 

Children choose being happy over being right. Adults choose being right over being happy. Children can easily forget about their fights because they choose to be happy.

We are currently in the Three Weeks leading up to the destruction of the Holy Temple due to our infighting and hatred for each other. But imagine if we were more like kids. They fight, and then they’re OK. Five minutes later the fight is over and they want their ice cream. 

What we need more than anything else in today's day and age is to learn from our children. Let the fights be forgiven and forgotten. We are all brothers and sisters. So what if we have disagreements? In this world, which is so divisive, we must learn to love one another. 

Let's choose to be happy over being right. And in doing so, we will end the exile and bring about the rebuilding of the Beit Hamikdash—the third and final Holy Temple.

My dear Zalman,

As we celebrate your bar mitzvah this week, I find myself overwhelmed with emotion. 

The past 13 years have flown by; I vividly remember your bris like it was yesterday. Watching you grow into the remarkable young man you are today has been an incredible journey. We are so thankful to Hashem for entrusting us with your precious neshama to nurture and to love!

As you transition into adulthood and take on the responsibilities of the 613 mitzvot, I want to prepare you: From now on, a constant battle will rage within you—a battle between the forces of evil and the forces of light. Every moment, every day, you will face a choice: Will your eyes read the latest world gossip, or will they be fixed on the pages of the eternal Torah? Will your mouth be used to slander or to talk kindly about others? Will your hands be used to hurt or to wrap tefillin? Will your legs carry you to inflict pain or to a hospital to visit the sick?

You are now part of the “struggling brigade,” like the rest of us. But here's an important truth: G-d has equipped you with the resources to overcome and emerge victorious in this battle! The power to triumph lies within you. You cannot blame your friends, your teachers or even your parents. The power is given to you and only you. You alone can tap into that innate strength to overcome any obstacle in your path. 

We live in a world plagued by darkness, devoid of spirituality, filled with chaos. So many bad people, so many unnecessary wars. But amidst this darkness, you have a mission—a purpose that sets you apart. Your job is to find and ignite the light and illuminate a world desperately in need of hope and healing. It’s up to you to show the world that there is a Master to this universe—the Almighty G-d.

As you embark on this new chapter of adulthood, remember that the forces of light will always overcome the forces of darkness. The smallest flame can light up the darkest room; even a small spark of spirituality can dispel the darkness around us. You just have to strike the match. 

You are now fully responsible for all your Torah and mitzvot. I am thrilled that you can now help us form a minyan in shul every week! I urge you to embrace this responsibility and become a shining example of light in a world that sorely needs it.

Ever since you were born, I’ve seen the fire inside you—the burning sensation to do and live and go. You are a man on a mission. You have been given incredible natural gifts. You love helping people and you have natural charisma and charm. Take these talents with you and use them to transform the world!

May you fulfill your mission and become a beacon of hope in these unprecedented times.

Tatty