We Miss You, Rabbeinu

I write this post with a sad and heavy heart. The passing of HaRav Hagaon Chacham Ovadia Yosef, zecher tzadik l'bracha, is a pain and loss that I can only compare to a person losing both parents in one day, lo aleinu. Although the loss is far, far greater than that.
The world feels like a colder, emptier place.
There's a sadness that lingers in the air here.

Upon reading the news, just minutes after Rav Ovadia's neshama left this olam, I started crying. Just minutes ago, we were reading Tehillim & tikun haklali, praying for the Rav's recovery and checking on his progress on theyeshivaworld.com
My husband had just finished reciting birkat hamazon, and seeing me cry, realized what had happened. We bought cried uncontrollably, and my husband tore kriya.
There was nothing to say. No words of comfort.
And on that note, we headed to the levaya in Jerusalem.

The amount of hakarat hatov, love, and respect that my husband and I have for HaRav Ovadia can not be put into words. Words wouldn't do the emotions justice. All I can say is that it is thanks to HaShem blessing our generation with Rav Ovadia that I am religious. That my husband is religious. And that our children will be religious BH. Without his sefarim & piskei halachot, I have no idea where I'd be today.
His shiurim, genius psakim/sefarim/halachot are what guide me daily, and without HaRav Ovadia, I would be lost.

I now understand Rashi's comments that Aharon HaCohen's sons were like Moshe Rabbeinu's sons, since Moshe was their teacher.
And what a teacher. Wow.

Here's a line from a very moving story that brought me to tears just now. Rav Ovadia told his wife, Rabbanit Margalit Yosef z"l, "give me olam hazeh, and I'll give you olam haba."
That "line" convinced her to marry him.
What olam haba they must have. What a marriage full of kdusha they must've have.

I copy this eulogy (taken from halachayomit.co.il) with tearful eyes & a broken heart. May the zchut of Maran protect us all, and may all of Am Yisrael be on the right path of Torah u'mitzvot:

In the year 5762, with the passing of “the true genius, crown glory of Israel, the great light of the Kingdom of the Talmud and Poskim, the light of Israel, the right pillar, the mighty hammer, an individual unique to the generation, Hagaon Harav Chaim Kreiswirth zt”l” (an excerpt from Maran’s very own eulogy for the Rav), Chief Rabbi of Antwerp, Belgium, Maran Harav Ovadia Yosef zt”l was thrown into great mourning. Maran zt”l was a dear friend of this great sage and Maran would constantly say that the world did not really know who Hagaon Harav Chaim zt”l really was. According to Maran’s words, this was a Torah personality that could not be matched.When Maran zt”l rose to eulogize this giant of Torah, he began by asking, what is this tumult all about? Our Sages tell us (Kiddushin 72b) that “a righteous individual does not depart from this world until another man as righteous as him is created, as the verse states, ‘The sun rises and the sun sets’-before the sun of Moshe set, the sun of Yehoshua rose. Before the sun of Yehoshua set, the sun of Otniel ben Kenaz rose. Before the sun of Eli set, the sun of Shmuel Ha’Navi rose.” This should be our comfort, for another person as righteous as the deceased has surely been born. If so, why do we mourn the loss of the great rabbi so much?
Maran zt”l explained in the name of the commentators that even so, not necessarily will the righteous man just created be as great in Torah as the deceased righteous man, as the Gemara (Baba Batra 75a) states regarding Yehoshua, “the elders of that generation would say, ‘The face of Moshe shined like the sun and the face of Yehoshua shined like the moon.’” This is because the generations become progressively weaker as time goes on and the leader is relative to the generation.
Likewise, we mourn today along with Zion and the nation of Israel, for Hashem has sent us a great redeemer, Maran zt”l, who saved Sephardic Jewry from destruction and raised the glory of Halacha when it was almost completely forgotten from the Jewish nation. This man was the pillar of Torah, kindness, and prayer. He was the leader of the generation in so many ways: In his humility, in his holiness, in his discourses, in his halachic rulings, and in his understanding. Now, we have lost Maran zt”l and as downtrodden as we are, we have no choice but to gather together the remaining Torah sages of our generation and only together will they be able to continue the tradition which Maran pioneered on his own.Many times when speaking with Maran zt”l, we were able to catch a glimpse of his greatness in Kabbalah, which was truly far more advanced than any of the greatest Mekubalim in our generation who have not reached Maran’s level, just as no Torah scholars have reached his level of Torah knowledge in the revealed portion of the Torah.
Besides for Maran’s greatness in Torah, he would perform loving-kindness with all his heart. Maran’s right-hand man, our dear friend Rabbi Tzvi Hakak, recounts that many times, serious questions in Halacha were sent to Maran regarding Agunot (women whose husbands have gone missing and are “tied down” to their husbands and are forbidden to remarry) and children born from forbidden unions (who are prohibited from marrying regular members of the Jewish nation) and Maran told him to place these questions on the desk in his bedroom. At 2:00 AM, Maran zt”l would go to sleep. When Rabbi Hakak would arrive at Maran’s home at 6:00 AM, Maran would already be sitting and learning and would tell him to send the response to the relevant parties immediately, even before morning prayers. Everyone would be flabbergasted, when did Maran find the time to write this lengthy and tedious response?! He only went to sleep four hours before…
We cannot possibly adequately eulogize Maran zt”l, for every single one of his character traits can fill volumes. His tremendous greatness was unfathomable, so much so that two of the greatest Mekubalim of the previous generation, Hagaon Harav Yisrael Abuchatzera zt”l (the “Baba Sali”) and Hagaon Harav Mordechai Sharabi zt”l, attested that Maran’s soul was kept from the times of the Geonim (period preceding that of the Rishonim) and Hashem told Maran’s soul, “Wait until your time comes. During a generation when heresy will spread all over the world, it will be your time to save Israel.”Indeed, it is almost non-existent for a child of six or seven years old to decide to dedicate his life to Torah study. However, when Maran zt”l was all but a young lad, he would sit and learn Torah, Prophets, and Scriptures for hours on end. By the age of ten, Maran had already written unbelieveable novel Torah thoughts (see the biography on Maran, “Abir Ha’Ro’im,” for some incredible pictures of Maran’s handwritten Torah essays when he was a child). At the age of fourteen, he had already mastered the entire Talmud. At the age of twenty-five, he was already greater in Torah knowledge than any Torah scholars living among us today. Maran was a supernatural genius in Torah. Who can replace him?
When contemplateing all of Maran’s accomplishments, we are reminded of Rabbi Chiya about whom the Gemara (Ketubot 103b): “Rabbi Chiya said: I prevented Torah from being forgotten from the Jewish nation, for I planted flax seeds and from the flax that grew, I wove nets and trapped deer. I fed the meat to hungry orphans and I processed the hides to produce parchment and on that parchment I wrote the five books of the Torah and the six orders of the Mishnah. About me did Rabbi Yehuda Ha’Nassi exclaim, ‘How great are the actions of Chiya!’”
Similarly, we exclaim, “How great are the actions of Rabbeinu Ovadia!” With all of his greatness and genius in Torah, he would be able to stand before laymen and speak to them in a language they understood and enjoyed through parables and anecdotes. He would speak about the deepest segments of the Talmud with the Chief Rabbi of Jerusalem, Hagaon Harav Tzvi Pesach Frank zt”l and then hurry off to deliver a Torah lecture to simpletons. He was unable to open a Sephardic Yeshiva because there were no Sephardic Yeshiva boys to learn in it. However, he did not give up; he was relentless. He began by teaching regular working men Torah daily until their children grew up; he troubled himself to place their boys into Talmudei Torah and Yeshivot and girls into Bet Yaakovs. He likewise taught the children Torah himself until many of them flourished into outstanding Torah scholars. In this way, an entire generation that was doomed to straying from Hashem’s path became completely G-d-fearing and Torah observant. Maran indeed “built up Jerusalem with mercy,” for all Sephardic Torah scholars and many Ashkenazi sages who are involved in rendering halachic rulings are all in Maran’s merit. Praiseworthy is the generation which had the merit of being led by Maran.
The entire Jewish nation felt a great void upon Maran zt”l’s passing and the reason for this could very well be because Maran’s soul was tantamount to that of Moshe Rabbeinu whose soul was comprised of all of the souls of the Jewish nation. Thus, anyone with a soul within him felt a great lacking with the passing of Maran zt”l.

May Hashem have mercy on us, the remaining ember of the Jewish nation, and not let us be like a flock of sheep without a Shepherd. May Maran act as a righteous defending angel on our behalf, let him not leave us or forsake us. May his blessings to the entire nation of Israel, whom he loved deeply like a father loves his child and whom he comforted like a mother comforts her child, come to fruition, for indeed, Maran was dedicated to the collective needs of the entire nation with every fiber of his being. May Hashem finally redeem us eternally and may we soon merit witnessing the Resurrection of the Dead at which point Maran zt”l will lead us and teach us once again, Amen.

Ahhhhh The Gift of Teshuva...

There is a true teshuva story that I think of it relatively often, and it's one of the most beautiful, real, moving stories I've ever heard. I heard it from Rabbi Wallerstein around 5 (or more) years ago, and since then, that story has resonated in me.
I think it's really appropriate before Yom Kippur so that we all realize the power of a Jewish neshama, and the fact that it is never too late to do teshuva.
Even if a person hit "rock bottom," the only place to go is UP.

 

HaShem is the most merciful judge in the world. Even if we were repeated offenders, He gives us countless chances to try again. And again. And again. Until we get it right.
Even when a person is 90 years old and still hasn't found the sense to do teshuva, HaShem STILL gives him life so that he can do teshuva again!
Wow.
Tell me that's not awesome.
No way it can't give you chills.

Ok, now here's the story:

Rabbi Wallerstein teaches in a school where there are many traditional & not-yet-frum boys. He had a student who invited Rabbi Wallerstein, years later, to his wedding. It was a mixed wedding, but the first dance was the "Rabbis dance", so it would be separate dancing, and Rabbi Wallerstein stayed for that.
While waiting for the dance to start, Rabbi Wallerstein was sitting at the same table as the chatan's brother, Jeff. The Rabbi had not seen Jeff in years, and he saw that Jeff had his non-Jewish girlfriend sitting on his lap. He smiled at Rabbi Wallerstein, clearly conscious of this rebellious behavior.
Rabbi Wallerstein went up to Jeff and said "come, let's go dance together." Once Jeff was away from his girlfriend, Rabbi Wallerstein whispered into his right ear "you should know, I was once your Rebbe, and I'm still your Rebbe, and I love you. Nothing is going to change that...no non-Jewish girlfriend or lack of observance." Then the Rabbi whispered into Jeff's other ear: "but I want you to know, you're going to hell."
They danced together, and Jeff shared with Rabbi Wallerstein that he was now a fervent Buddhist. Rabbi Wallerstein invited Jeff to come to his shiur to speak about Buddhism, and long story short: Jeff's neshama tasted the emet of Judaism and he began his teshuva journey.
Rabbi Wallerstein helped Jeff go to yeshiva in Eretz Yisrael. After studying in yeshiva for a few years, Jeff decided it was time to enter shidduchim and find his soulmate.
He was very nervous to date because, you see, he had tattoos. And not just tattoos. But tattoos of Buddha/avoda zara. And not just a few...but many, all over his body - all the way up until his neck. So he would wear high cut shirts to hide those tattoos. But he was terrified that no frum girl would want to marry him with such tattoos. Rabbi Wallerstein gave him chizzuk to start dating and approach this subject when it was relevant.
Well, Jeff met an awesome girl with much Yirat Shamayim. After a few dates, he was sure he wanted to marry her but was nervous that after hearing about his tattoos, she wouldn't want to marry him. He shared his fears with Rabbi Wallerstein, who told Jeff "you have to tell her."

The fateful day arrived, and Jeff's heart was full of tension and panic. How would this wonderful bat yisrael, whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and build a beautiful Jewish home with, react to his news? Would she break up with him on the spot? Would she judge him?
During their date, Jeff was overcome with emotion and told this girl "listen, I have to tell you something."
She listened.
"I have tattoos."
She was silent. He continued.
"And not just a few tattoos...but I have them all over my body. Until my neck. And well...they're not just tattoos. They're tattoos of avoda zara. And I have a big Buddha on my body as well."

There. He revealed his secret. His skeletons. His biggest fear. Now how would she react?
The silence was deafening.
And finally, she spoke up.
"None of that matters to me," she said. "What matters is that you have the letters of HaShem's Name tattooed onto your neshama."

BH they got married. And now they're living in Israel and have a beautiful family.

Wow. What an amazing story.
First of all, the potential of this Jewish neshama. This man, who went from being a non-practicing Jew, and not just a non-practicing Jew, but a Jew dating a goy. And not just dating a goy, but also a Buddhist who was anti-Judaism became a frum man living in Eretz Yisrael.
Second of all, the power of this woman. Who was able to look past all of the external. Who was able to get over the past and look into a better future. She saw straight to this man's neshama and expressed herself to him in a manner that was loving, understanding, positive, and confidence-building.

What I took from this story was that so many times we can get caught up. Caught up in the external. Caught up in the gashmiut. Caught up in OUR past. Caught up in other people's pasts. What this person did to you, what that person did, etc.
But HaShem forgives us whenever we do teshuva. He literally waits for YEARS after we hurt Him day after day and forgives us instantly.
If HaShem can forgive any person, then we also need to. We also need to find the chessed from within and not live in the past.

Don't let your past averot stop you from the person you can become.
It reminds me of a wonderful quote I once saw that said something like "be willing to sacrifice the person you are for the person you can become."
(I might've posted the exact quote on the blog before).

Chazal teach us that Jews have NO yetzer hara on Yom Kippur, and we are compared to Melachim. That means that any averot or wrong actions that we do on Yom Kippur are only due to habit.
Habit can not allow us to withhold our potential.
Yom Kippur is the time to grab your goals and already START doing them. Want to start learning? Don't wait until after Yom Kippur. Start ON Yom Kippur.
Want to start dressing more modestly? Start ON Yom Kippur.
May we all be zochim to enact all of goals, and may we achieve true closeness to HaShem.

Remember that HaShem loves you and is rooting for you!!

Wishing everyone a Gmar Chatima v'Ktiva Tova!

Whigging it at the Supermarket!

So, I went to the supermarket. Just to pick up a few things.

I heard an Israeli lady say (in Hebrew) "excuse me, lady?" (for all you Hebrew speakers: slicha giveret?)
(note: this convo will be loosely translated, as there are awesome Hebrew words - like cheshek - that just don't have a well fitting word in English!)
I looked around and saw the store manager.
"Yes?" I asked, curiously.
"I was watching you since you entered the store 10 minutes ago--"
uh oh! I was pretty sure I didn't shop lift anything. What'd I do?
"--and I just want you to know... your mitpachat (headscarf/tichel) is stunning! The way you tied it and added the flower is just so beautiful."

I blushed (well, not really. I'm pretty dark, so if my cheeks are pink...it's only due to artificial coloring ;)) and thanked her.
She went on. "You know, I used to have so many mitpachot. I used to cover all of my hair - like you do. But, over the years, I stopped."
I didn't want to tread on anything that wasn't my territory, but hey, this is Israel - we're all family. So, I asked "really? why?"
"I'm not entirely sure." She responded honestly. "Perhaps it just got too hard."
I was quiet and nodded.
"But you know what? Seeing you just made me want to cover my hair properly tomorrow. Yes, yes...I think I'll do it tomorrow!"

Now, here I was. A post partum mother, with barely any sleep, just looking to buy some necessities from the supermarket at 10 pm, and without even realizing - I was inspiring a fellow Jewish daughter of the Master of the World.
My decision to not wear a wig, and instead, to wear a beautiful crown, was one that moved someone (whom I never even spoke to prior to this conversation!) to cover her hair.

Wow.
The koach of doing a mitzvah. The koach of doing something right.
The koach of standing up for what you believe, even if you're standing alone.

I hope this post doesn't sound self-righteous. That's not at all the purpose I'm writing this.
Rather, I'm sharing this incident with y'all because...well, it's so easy to get lost in society libertarian outlook. The "live and let live" kind motto. That's not at all a Jewish hashkafah.
Our hashkafah is: we're all in this boat of life together. Our actions impact the whole world - be it for the good or the bad.

The well known mashal goes that there's a man in a boat, who starts drilling a hole in his seat. His fellow passengers on the boat begin to freak out. "Yo man, whatcha doing?!"
he matter-of-factly defends himself "I'm drilling a hole in my seat, so I can feel the water. Mind your own businness! What do YOU care?"

If you were a passenger, would you care whats he was doing? Of course! Because his seat affects the whole boat being dry or full of water.

Either we're doing a kiddush HaShem or a chilul HaShem. There's no in between.

May we all be zochim to Lkadesh et Shem HaShem baolam hazeh! Shabbat Shalom :)

My...shadchan?

So, I was trying to reach a particular shadchan, who was suggested to me by a friend. I don't like calling, but hey, gotta do hishtadlut, right?
The phone would ring and ring. She wouldn't answer. Okay, so I basically decide to forget about the meeting with her. At least temporarily.

A different shadchan called me up and suggested a guy.
A really great, solid guy. Really.
Nice guy.
So we went out a 2nd time.
Still nice but not for me.
So I called her up to let her know.

"who's this, again?" She asked
I was a little bit taken aback. I mean, I know that she's busy and all, but c'mon lady, you just set me up with this guy!

I calmly responded "this is Sefardi Gal. You set me up with Mr. Likes Sushi."

"I set you up with Mr. Likes Sushi? When?"
She sounded shocked.

I was a bit shocked that she was shocked.

"Yes...last week. And we went on our second date last night..."

"I'm sorry. If you say I set you up, then I must have. Let me think. Hmmm...let me try and remember. Last week...Last week...hmmmm."

The background music began to play in my head.

Annoyed, I looked at my caller I.D.
My eyes widened, and I nearly gasped.

Oh man.

I unintentionally called Mrs. Shadchan-who-would-never-answer-when-I-call. She davka decided to pick up on the day that I did NOT intend to call her.

Let's add this incident to the list of Sefardi Gal's fadichot.

Sheer Joy

Recently, I was thinking about an extremely moving night of my life.

It wasn't some big party. Or some huge moment that involved a confession.

It was a particular motzei Shabbat.

I stayed by a really beautiful, holy family for Shabbat.

I didn't grow up in a frum household, and since I became religious, one of the aspects I long for the most is my own kosher kadosh, religious household. Torah, tzniut, simcha, etc.
This family embodied that ideal. Sheer holiness.

I entered the house on Erev Shabbat; their home smelled of freshly baked challah and Shabbat food.
There was no television; the pride and joy was the huge sefarim shelf. The wife saw me admiring it and looking through the books. She smiled and told me "I tell my husband that sefarim are more valuable to me than jewelry. If he wants to buy me a gift, I tell him that I'd much rather he buy a sefer rather than a jewelry!"
I fell in love with their whole family, but particularly, their son.

He was 5 years old and very well-mannered and funny. He's the one who wanted to marry me.
On Motzei Shabbat, he was already in pjamas, but he clearly wanted to stay awake. He agreed to go to bed if I would put him to sleep.

So, I walked into his room, expecting it to take the usual 2 minutes. I told him we'll say "shema" together.
"okay, but we're saying the long version!" he replied enthusiastically.
"sure."
Being that he was 5 years old, I expected him to know the first line or two. The first paragraph being the MAX.

He knew the ENTIRE shema. After the shema, he procceeded to perfectly recite several perakim of Tehillim. Perakim that took me quite some time to recite by heart.
I watched with astonishment. I was amazed. I was so inspired by this 5 year old.

I felt like I was looking at the most beautiful neshama.

And I hoped (hope) that I will raise such holy children, too.

He Knows.

There's a story about Eliyahu HaNavi. He appeared to one of the Rabbis, who spent the day with Eliyahu HaNavi. However, there was 1 condition: the Rabbi was not allowed to ask Eliyahu HaNavi any questions.
So, Eliyahu HaNavi knocked on the door of a very shabby house of an extremely poor family. An elderly couple with no children opened the door. They loved guests, and even though they had very little, their hospitality emulated Avraham and Sara’s hospitality.
They gave Eliyahu HaNavi and the Rabbi food, drink, and even their own beds. The old couple gladly slept on the floor – just so that their two guests could sleep comfortably!

In the middle of the night, the Rabbi heard Eliyahu HaNavi praying intently for this poor couple’s only cow to die.
WHAT?!! The Rabbi was shocked! This cow was the sole source of parnassah for this family. If the cow would die, they would barely have anything.
But…the Rabbi wasn’t allowed to ask questions. He kept his thoughts to himself, but this tefillah really perturbed him.

That morning, as Eliyahu HaNavi and the Rabbi were leaving, they heard a loud scream from the elderly couple’s house. The poor old lady ran outside crying and she screamed “our cow! Our only has cow died. What will we do, what will be??”


Eliyahu HaNavi saw that the Rabbi looked confused. “Do you know why I prayed for the cow to die?”
Because the Rabbi was a Tzaddik, Eliyahu HaNavi shared the reason with him.
“That old woman was supposed to die today. So I prayed for HaShem to take the cow’s life instead of her life. As a kapara.”
And suddenly, it became clear. It was a chessed.

If this woman knew that she was supposed to die, and the cow was taken instead, would she have been crying, worrying, and complaining? Of course not! She would be thanking HaShem all day long. She would be so happy that the cow died!

But she didn’t know.

And so too…we don’t always know the reason for “tragedies” or difficulties in our lives. Everything really is a chessed from HaShem, but we don’t always merit to know the reasons.
That’s where bitachon comes in the picture. Bitachon is that we have to KNOW that everything that happens to us is ultimately for our benefit. Every problem has a finish line. It’s happening to us for a reason, and somehow, it’s truly for our benefit.

Our challenges don’t always have to be so earth-shattering. Challenges also include daily life frustrations.
An example from my personal life…

I was really infatuated with this guy.
Mainly because he seemed so frum and wholesome.

Truly solid.

My thoughts would sing "omgosh he’s sooo holy." He was (supposedly) a great learner and seemed so passionate and enthusiastic about Torah and mitzvot.
So, of course, I was interested.
You know, in the unhealthy obsessed type of way. (I seriously told my friend, with 82.7% certainty, "we're getting married. He doesn't know it yet. But we are.")

But just oneeee tiny drawback: he wasn't interested in me.
It kind of (read: extremely) hurt.

HaShem, how can this be for my benefit? Everything seems so wonderful about him. I don't get it.
I don't get it.
I. Don't. Get. It.

That is, I didn't get it.

And turns out...
he's not on the right derech right now.
While I hope he does teshuva and sees the right Jewish path (for his own sake), I'm so grateful.

HaShem knows what He's doing.

Just remember: what seems horrible today can end up being the biggest blessing later on.

Hands...Off?

One of the (countless) concepts I love about Judaism is the Torah's approach towards relationships. I think that if BOTH spouses 100% fully follow the Torah's advice (obviously, that includes Torah Sheh B'al Peh and Chazal's adivce) towards relationships & marriage, then they're bound to have a happy marriage.

I remember when I was first doing teshuva and learning about shomer negia, abstinence before marriage, hilchot nidda, the chuppah, and the obligations of a husband and wife, I was shocked. I was at awe at how beautiful and true everything really is. How much logical and emotional sense it all made.

Some time shortly before seminary, I remember learning about the concept of tzniut between a husband and wife. I didn't understand why they can't touch in public. C'mon, they were shomer negia for so long, and now they're MARRIED! Give them a break.
I didn't understand. I didn't want to listen.
Same thing happened at seminary. I saw how physically distant the religious married couples were, and I just couldn't sympathize. I always pictured a husband and wife to be showingly affectionate; not through major PDA form, but you know...like holding hands or stuff like that.

Not too long ago, I was discussing with a friend how certain hashkafic concepts that I "rejected" during seminary, I now totally agree with. Why? Because I've experienced situations that led me to realize how truth about what my teachers and Rabbanim were preaching.

I finally noticed the emet and importance of tzniut and lack of public physical contact between a husband and wife.

I saw somebody I know who recently got married. She was always a very quiet, sweet girl. Very modest with her actions and mannerisms. She was with her husband, and they kept touching. Holding hands, hugging, etc.
I felt myself cringe. Not out of disgust or jealously. Rather, this cringe was out of discomfort. It was at that moment that I realized how important it is to conceal physical touch in public places.
1) Touch is special. It's intimate. It's reserved for the husband and wife. Alone. When one has something precious, (s)he doesn't show it off to the whole world. Rather, (s)he keeps it in a safe or private, unknown area.
2) It can easily make other people feel uncomfortable. Nobody, especially shomer-negia singles, want to see that. The only people who might appreciate the couple's lovie dovie antics are their parents and old people.
3) Sometimes it seems as if the couple is insecure in their own relationship, and therefore, feels the "need" to prove their affections to themselves by flaunting to everyone around them. I have a friend who recently got divorced. A lot of our friends were shocked because, apparently, she and her husband always posted pictures of themselves - touching, looking happy, smiling, going ice-skating, etc.
Their facebook statuses were often "I love my wife!" or "thank you so much to the best husband in the world for driving me to work today!"
6 months later...divorced.
Initially, I was also surprised and of course, upset, about the news. However, after one intently focuses on the details, it isn't so surprising that such a public relationship failed.

Just to clarify: I don't think that means couples should be cold or robotic. I just think the public affection should be kept to a minimum.

Just some food for thought.

How Sweet It Is

This past Tuesday, my not-yet-religious relative went to do some quick grocery shopping. She saw a religious man, with nice, kind eyes, small white peyot, a long white beard.
They were both picking out some grapes from the produce section.
"How are the grapes? Are they good?" The religious man asked my relative.
"I think so. Why don't you taste one and find out?"
"No, I can't. It wouldn't be right."
"But you're tasting in order to buy them! Why not?"
"No. I can't. If I'd like to taste it, I have to first ask permission from the seller."

My relative was sure that the seller would refuse.

The man came back a minute later and said "yes, the seller permitted me to try the grape." He tried one, liked it, and bought the bunch of grapes.

Shocked, this relative told me "you know, it never even occurred to me...that a person has to ask. I was so proud of him for conducting himself in such an honest way. Kol Hakavod."

In the Shacharit tefillah of "Ahavat Olam", we ask HaShem to help us "lilmod u'lelamed" - to learn and to teach.
Our actions are the best teachers. Always attempt to act in a straight, rightful way because your actions are examples. HaShem is always watching us, but there are also people watching and learning from even your simplest decision.

A friend of mine recently shared a fantastic concept with me. Simply put: "every time you say no to something, you're saying yes to something else. Every time you say yes to something, you're saying no to something else."

I wonder if any of them made grape kabobs. That picture is making me hungry.

Shabbat Shalom u'Mevurach!

An Unexpected Teacher

I was on the subway & feeling drained. 'Twas a long day. Sometimes an individual can forget why (s)he is here. That the whole purpose of our existence is to do good. To fulfill Torah and mitzvot.
I'm embarrassed to admit that at that moment, I wasn't focusing on my mission. I was just tired. I was fed up.

An African American man arrived on my subway car and was about to make a speech.
Oh great. Another speech about jesus or money. I silently dreaded.

But to my pleasant surprise, this speech was different. And was a huge wake up call for me.
I don't remember the beginning of the speech, but the middle to end went something like the following:

"I'd like to tell y'all that I wasn't always a good guy. I used to do bad things. But then I realized that I can change. I want y'all to know that - you can always change! You can be in the dark, but you're not trapped. Just step into the light. Just like that.
G-d is waiting for you. He will accept you regardless of where you've been.
And I want y'all to know...that G-d is great not SOME of the time, but ALL of the time. He is great."

I felt like he was sent to speak directly to me. Kinda selfish, I know. But hey - each person should feel like the world was created for himself/herself, right?
What was the message I got? Do teshuva. Know that everything is l'tova. Gam zu l'tova - BECAUSE G-d is always great and right. Not only sometimes. But at all times.

Chodesh tov. May this chodesh Nissan be full of personal redemptions for each one of you and all of Klal Yisrael.

Modern Day Purim Miracle

Can a couple still have children after 33 years waiting and praying for a first child?

Yup. Baruch HaShem! This should teach us all that we should never give up hope, and anything is possible for HaShem, Who is the Creator and Sustainer of the universe.

Article below:

For 33 years, the Rebbe of the Mevakshei Emunah Hasidism in Jerusalem prayed for a miracle that would help his wife become pregnant and give him a son.

On Friday it almost happened: At the age of 52, Rabbi Yoel Kahn's wife gave birth to twin girls, which brought him a lot of happiness but not the heir he had been waiting for.

Rabbi Kahn and his wife, both offspring of noble ultra-Orthodox families, were married in Jerusalem in 1978 and settled in the neighborhood of Mea Shearim. They tried to conceive a child for years, but were unsuccessful despite dozens of fertility treatments and the family members' prayers.

Rebbe wasn't worried
Rabbi Kahn is the younger brother of the leaders of the Toldot Aharon and Toldot Avraham Yitzhak Hasidism, whose members are nicknamed "zebras" due to their striped coats. Thirteen years ago he founded his own small Hasidism, called Mevakshei Emunah.

The Hasidism is comprised of only 30 families, but every week the Rebbe visits a different community in Israel in a bid to recruit followers, and so many people across the country were aware of the couple's attempts to conceive and prayed for the fertility treatments' success.

All that time, the Rebbe himself was not worried. His followers say he was convinced he would eventually become a father. According to rumors in the Hasidism, before his death the Rebbe's father promised his son that he would have children.

'It's a Purim miracle'
Eventually, the Rebbetzin became pregnant and gave birth to twin girls at the age of 52, after 33 years of infertility. The babies were born on pregnancy week 31 and were immediately placed in an incubator.

According to sources in the Hasidism, the rabbi's wife initially carried three fetuses – two girls and a boy – but the boy did not survive.

Rabbi Kahn's Hasidim rushed to the hospital to celebrate the joyous occasion with drinks and dances. "It's a Purim miracle," one of them said. "We are called 'Mevakshei Emunah' (faith seekers), and now we see that three decades of faith did help."

Another Hasid explained that "today fertility treatments are not such a big deal in the haredi sector, and anyone who needs them can do it. Judaism wants us to try to have children, and even if people don't talk about it – it's clear to everyone that treatments were involved."

And what about a successor to lead the Hasidism after the Rebbe's death? The Hasidim are not giving up and hope Rabbi Kahn will still have a son. "You can have children till the age of 55," one of them says. "We continue to pray with complete faith that our rabbi will also be blessed with a son."

Coming Home From Ramallah

The following story gave me the chills. (By the way, I don't often get 'the chills')

The power of the neshama is AMAZING!

(This is an aish article)

After the concluding prayer, Dan quickly walked to the front of the shul in Jerusalem, said "Good Shabbos" to the rabbi and a few other people he knew, and at once made his way toward the back. Time to get home and make Kiddush for the family.

On his way out, a sudden impulse struck him and he turned around to watch the people filing out. His eyes slowly scanned the shul. Was there anyone who needed a place to eat? "Who's that sitting toward the side wall? I know almost everyone here, and I don't believe he's been here before."

Dan approached the young man, scanning him with an experienced eye. Dungarees, backpack, dark skin, curly black hair -- looks Sephardi, maybe Moroccan.

A moment more for consideration, and he was moving toward the boy with his hand extended in welcome. "Good Shabbos. My name is Dan Eisenblatt. Would you like to eat at my house tonight?"

The young man's face broke in an instant from a worried look to a toothy smile. "Yeah, thanks. My name is Machi." The young man picked up his backpack, and together they walked out of the shul.

MY FAVORITE SONG
A few minutes later they were all standing around Dan's Shabbos table. As soon as the family started singing Shalom Aleichem, Dan noticed that his guest wasn't singing along. "Maybe he's shy, or can't sing," he surmised. The guest gave another one of his toothy smiles and followed along, limping badly but obviously trying his best.

Even after the meal began and the guest had relaxed somewhat, he still seemed a bit fidgety and was mostly silent. Dan picked up the signal and kept the conversation general, and centered his remarks on the weekly Torah portion, mixed with small talk about current events.

Is there a song you want to sing? I can help if you're not sure about the tune.After the fish, Dan noticed his guest leafing through his songbook, apparently looking for something. He asked with a smile, "Is there a song you want to sing? I can help if you're not sure about the tune."

The guest's face lit up, a startling change. "There is a song I'd like to sing, but I can't find it here. I really liked what we sang in the synagogue tonight. What was it called? Something ‘dodi.'"

Dan paused for a moment, on the verge of saying, "It's not usually sung at the table," but then he caught himself. "If that's what the kid wants," he thought, "what's the harm?" Aloud he said, "You mean Lecha Dodi. Wait, let me get you a siddur."

Once they had sung Lecha Dodi, the young man resumed his silence until after the soup, when Dan asked him, "Which song now?"

The guest looked embarrassed, but after a bit of encouragement said firmly, "I'd really like to sing Lecha Dodi again."

Dan was not really all that surprised when, after the chicken, he asked his guest what song now, and the young man said, "Lecha Dodi, please." Dan almost blurted out, "Let's sing it a little softer this time, the neighbors are going to think I'm nuts," but thought better of it.

Finally it got to be too much for Dan. "Don't you want to sing something else?" he suggested gently.

His guest blushed and looked down. "I just really like that one," he mumbled. "Just something about it -- I really like it." In all, they must have sung "The Song" eight or nine times. Dan wasn't sure -- he lost count.

MACHMUD IBN-ESH-SHARIF
Later, when they had a quiet time to talk, Dan said, "I was just wondering, we haven't had more than a few moments to chat. Where are you from?"

The boy looked pained, then stared down at the floor and said softly, "Ramallah."

Dan's heart skipped a beat. He was sure he'd heard the boy say "Ramallah," a large Arab city on the West Bank. Quickly he caught himself, and then realized that he must have said Ramleh, an Israeli city. Dan said, "Oh, I have a cousin there. Do you know Ephraim Warner? He lives on Herzl Street."

The young man shook his head sadly. "There are no Jews in Ramallah."The young man shook his head sadly. "There are no Jews in Ramallah."

Dan gasped. He really had said "Ramallah"! His thoughts were racing. Did he just spend Shabbos with an Arab? Wait a minute! Take a deep breath and let's get this straightened out. Giving his head a quick shake he told the boy, "I'm sorry, I'm a bit confused. And now that I think of it, I haven't even asked your full name. What is it, please?"

The boy looked terrified for a moment, then squared his shoulders and said quietly, "Machmud Ibn-esh-Sharif."

Machmud was looking even more terrified now; obviously he could tell what Dan was thinking. Hurriedly he said, "Wait! I'm Jewish. I'm just trying to find out where I belong."

Dan stood there speechless. What could he say?

Machmud broke the silence hesitantly: "I was born and grew up in Ramallah. I was taught to hate my Jewish oppressors, and to think that killing them was heroism. But I always had my doubts. I mean, we were taught that the Sunna, the tradition, says, 'No one of you is a believer until he desires for his brother that which he desires for himself.' I used to sit and wonder, Weren't the Yahud (Jews) people, too? Didn't they have the right to live the same as us? If we're supposed to be good to everyone, how come nobody includes Jews in that?

"I asked these questions to my father, and he threw me out of the house. Just like that, with nothing but the clothes on my back. By now my mind was made up: I was going to run away and live with the Yahud, until I could find out what they were really like."

FAMILY PHOTO
Machmud continued:

"I snuck back into the house that night, to get my things and my backpack. My mother caught me in the middle of packing. She looked pale and upset, but she was quiet and gentle to me, and after a while she got me to talk. I told her that I wanted to go live with the Jews for a while and find out what they're really like, and maybe I would even want to convert.

"She was turning more and more pale while I said all this, and I thought she was angry, but that wasn't it. Something else was hurting her, and she whispered, 'You don't have to convert. You already are a Jew.'

She whispered: "You don't have to convert. You already are a Jew." "I was shocked. My head started spinning, and for a moment I couldn't speak. Then I stammered, 'What do you mean?'

"'In Judaism,' she told me, 'the religion goes according to the mother. I'm Jewish, so that means you're Jewish.'

"I never had any idea my mother was Jewish. I guess she didn't want anyone to know. She sure didn't feel too good about her life, because she whispered suddenly, 'I made a mistake by marrying an Arab man. In you, my mistake will be redeemed.'

"My mother always talked that way, poetic-like. She went and dug out some old documents, and handed them to me: things like my birth certificate and her old Israeli ID card, so I could prove I was a Jew. I've got them here, but I don't know what to do with them.

"My mother hesitated about one piece of paper. Then she said, 'You may as well take this. It is an old photograph of my grandparents, which was taken when they went looking for the grave of some great ancestor of ours. They went up north and found the grave, and that's when this picture was taken.'"

Dan gently put his hand on Machmud's shoulder. Machmud looked up, scared and hopeful at the same time. Dan asked, "Do you have the photo here?"

The boy's face lit up. ""Sure! I always carry it with me." He reached in his backpack and pulled out an old, tattered envelope.

This grave was in the old cemetery in Tzfat, and the inscription identified it as the author of Lecha Dodi. Dan gingerly took the photo from the envelope, picked up his glasses, and looked carefully at it. The first thing that stood out was the family group: an old-time Sephardi family from the turn of the century.

Then he focused on the grave they were standing around. When he read the gravestone inscription, he nearly dropped the photo. He rubbed his eyes to make sure. There was no doubt. This was a grave in the old cemetery in Tzfat, and the inscription identified it as the grave of the great Kabbalist and tzaddik Rabbi Shlomo Alkabetz -- the author of "Lecha Dodi."

Dan's voice quivered with excitement as he explained to Machmud who his ancestor was. "He was a friend of the Arizal, a great Torah scholar, a tzaddik, a mystic. And Machmud, your ancestor wrote that song we were singing all Shabbos: Lecha Dodi!"

This time it was Machmud's turn to be struck speechless. Dan slowly stood up from the bed, still in awe about what had happened. He extended his trembling hand and said, "Welcome home, Machmud. Now how about picking a new name for yourself."

Postscript: Machmud changed his name and enrolled in yeshiva in Jerusalem, where he studied diligently to "catch up" on his Jewish education. He got married to a nice Jewish girl, and gained popularity as a lecturer, recounting his dramatic story. He eventually had to flee Israel, due to threats against his life by members of his Arab family.

Reprinted with permission from "Monsey, Kiryat Sefer, and Beyond," (http://www.targum.com/store/Roth.html) by Zev Roth (Targum Press, 2002). The story is true; the names have been changed.

Coming Out of The Cocoon

In case y'all didn't notice yet, I'm a fan of those inspirational chizzuk stories. I find that (at times) the most powerful stories that are the ones that you or someone that you know personally experienced. I have a phenomenal story to share about a very special friend of mine. This lady is truly a tzadika, and I hope my readers will be moved by this as much as I was (if not more!)

(note: the facts are true, but I edited names for the sake of anonymity.)

Around two years ago, a close friend of mine threw a challah & bracha party.

For those who are unaware, a challah & bracha party is basically when a bunch of people (usually of the female persuasion :)) get together and bake challot and make brachot on various foods & answer "amen" to each other's brachot.
Baking challah is a very special mitzvah, and that time is a strong "et tefillah" (time for prayer) -- so that's an especially auspicious to ask HaShem for whatever our heart desires.

The bracha part is when foods from each "bracha category" are beautifully presented and arranged on a table. The brachot are recited in the following descending order: "Mezonot" (food made from the 5 grains) => "Hagefen" (grapejuice or wine) => "Ha'etz" (fruits that grow on a tree) => "Ha'adama" (vegetables that don't grow on trees) => Shehakol (all other foods)
Some people also add "besamim" (a bracha on fragrances)

Each bracha is a "segulah" for a particular salvation:
Mezonot - Parnassah
Hagefen - Shidduchim/Marriage
Ha'etz - Children/Pri Beten
Ha'adma - Refua Shlemah
Shehakol - anything else (Mashiach, Geula, Shalom Bayit, success in school, etc.)
Besamim - Chazara b'teshuva (to do teshuva)

Before reciting the bracha, you take the food in your right hand and close your eyes and say the Hebrew names of the people who need the segulah that your particular bracha stands for. So, let's say before saying "ha'adma", you says the names of all of the ill people who needs a speedy recovery. Then, you makes the bracha with kavana and everyone else responds with a loud "AMEN!"
When one answers amen, one creates a malach. Chazal teach us that the "amen" is more important than the bracha -- therefore, one should always make brachot aloud and around people whenever possible in order for the "amen" to be recited.

Now, when there are a lot of people, there are usually 3 groups for each bracha. First, one group makes the bracha simultaneously, and everyone from the other group answers amen. The second group then makes the bracha simultaneously, and everyone responds amen. The 3rd group is only one person who REALLY needs that yeshua -- for ex, an older single will be the last one to say the bracha of "hagefen" - and everyone answers amen. That person is called "the closer."

While all of this is going on, the challah is baking in the oven and the special aroma is enveloping the apartment or house.
If anyone is interested in learning more about the power brachot/amen, I highly recommend reading this book.
Below are pictures that I've taken at Challah/Bracha parties that I've attended:



Now that we all understand what a challah & bracha party is, let's move on :)
So I was at that special event around 2 years ago. A close friend of mine, Natalie, was moving to Israel for a year, and she invited all of her friends over. At this party, I noticed a beautiful married lady. She stood out because she was wearing a vibrant colored headscarf that perfectly matched her modest outfit. She looked fashionable and tznua (modest) at the same time. She had a huge smile on her face the whole time and was very friendly. She looked pretty young, around 25 years old, and I figured that she probably has one or two kids and with that happy attitude, she is probably an amazing mommy.
Natalie introduced her to us. Tziporah was this special lady's name. Apparently she was a fashion designer and had a boutique full of modest clothing. In fact, my friend who was throwing the party was dressed impeccably, and turns out -- that's how Natalie met Tziporah. She was looking for an outfit for the party, went to Tziporah's boutique, and they instantly hit it off as friends, and she invited her to the challah & bracha party.

The summer night was going great. Everybody was in an uplifted and joyful mood. Because most of the gals who attended were single, a decision was made that we would first say our names and/or names of other singles we know, and we would each recite an individual brachot of "hagefen" and everyone would answer "amen!" Because there were around 35 single ladies there, that means over 35 brachot of "hagefen" were made within those few minutes.

Each time a single girl made a bracha of "hagefen", Tziporah started singing songs like "od yeshama" and clapping her hands. She had so much genuine simcha for each person, as if she was certain that each one of us would get married that year. She set the tone, and people joined in singing with her.

A couple of minutes later, it was time to make the bracha of "ha'etz." The blessing for barren couples who haven't had children (yet). Usually at the bracha parties I had previously attended, "the closer" was never a barren lady.
Usually "the closer" for "ha'etz" would be somebody who knows a barren married woman who is trying to conceive. I didn't even personally know any women who were incapable of having children.
Until someone asked Tziporah if she wants to be the closer. She smiled and nodded. This smile, however, was different. It wasn't a joyous smile like her previous one that didn't leave her face the whole night; rather, this time, it was a sad smile.
The 1st group made "ha'etz" and answered "amen." The 2nd group followed.
Finally, it was Tziporah's turn.
She stood up in the front of the crowd and tears began forming in her eyes. She closed her eyes and starting swaying. "May this bracha be for and my tzaddik husband ...we have been trying for 10 years...and I hope...this year." And as the tears were emerging out of her eyes, she tightly held onto the green grape in her right hand, slightly raised her hand, and said with intense kavana "Baruch ATAH HaShem Elokeinu Melech HaOlam, Boreh P'ri Ha'etz!" everyone answered a loud "AMEN!"

I was stunned. Here I thought that she was 25, with at least 2 children. If she was trying to conceive for 10 years, she had to be older than 25. And she had to have experienced more suffering than I ever imagined somebody with such a bright smile could have experienced. I cringed. I wished there was something I could do. Oh, how much pain she must be in...
these thoughts followed me as I went home. It just didn't sit well with me. Her positive energy and emunah left me on a high, but at the same time, I felt uncomfortable. The same image kept replaying in my head: the expression on her face while making the bracha with those tightly shut eyes and tears pushing out.

A few days later, Natalie gave me a call. "I'm trying to organize a group of 40 women, particularly the girls from my bracha party, to say Shir Hashirim for Tziporah on Erev Shabbat. And in that zchut, Be'ezrat HaShem, Tziporah will be expecting a child soon. Are you in?"
40 girls were gathered, and she gave us Tziporah and her husband's full Hebrew names.

I jotted down their names and kept the note in my siddur. I remembered them during my daily Shemoneh Esreh, when lighting candles Erev Shabbat, whenever I traveled to Israel and prayed by the Kotel, etc.

Tziporah sent Natalie an e-mail, telling her that she is now a shadchan and asked if she has any friends who want to send their resumes. I sent my resume, she called me, and as a result, we became close friends because of our phone conversations. She set me up a few times, but even more importantly, she gave me chizzuk and divrei Torah. It was an emotional and logical support that very few shadchanim offered me in the past. She was one of the only shadchanim who made me feel like I will get married and should never worry -- just continue praying to HaShem and keep up the faith. She gave me brachot over the phone and invited me over her house for coffee and shmoozing.
Every conversation we had left me with a smile on my face. She was so warm and caring.

I didn't know how to ask her...if anything had changed. If she had a little somebody in her tummy.
I wanted to tell her how much my friends and I were davening for her. But I didn't say anything. I feared the possibility of offending her.

Natalie updated me from time to time, telling me to continue davening and not to give up. I knew that Tziporah wasn't giving up and that her emunah in HaShem was carrying her through.

Over a year after the challah & bracha party, I told a close friend of mine, Gila, about Tziporah.
A couple of days later, Gila called me up. "Sefardi Gal, I'm going to the Lubavitch Rebbe's kever to daven. That lady that you told me about...and her husband...who can't have kids...what're their names, again?"
I was so touched that she remembered. (Hey, I only have amazing friends!)

Around Rosh Hashana time of this year, Gila told me that she always continued to pray for the couple. She even made Challah every Erev Shabbat and would pray for them while making the challah.
I called Tziporah to wish her a shana tova, but she wasn't feeling well. My friend told me that Tziporah had done some infertility treatments that left her feeling weak and ill. It seemed that the treatments were not successful, and the side effects were painful.

At a friend's wedding on October 24, 2010, Natalie, Gila, and I were dancing, and we were crazy happy. Natalie took us aside, and admist the loud music, she said "I just want you two to be the first to know...TZIPORAH IS 3 MONTHS PREGNANT!" I have never cried from happiness, but it was a close call that night. None of us could contain our joy. We all screamed and hugged and jumped with joy. So that's why she wasn't feeling well! The treatment was working!, I thought. We continued to dance and praised HaShem, and really, at that moment...it felt like HaShem stopped the world. For Tziporah.

Gila never met Tziporah yet. She had no idea what she looked or sounded like. A week or two after the wedding, Gila called me and anxiously told me about how she met Tziporah. Gila was invited to another friend's bracha & challah party. There was a lady there who was pregnant, though not very visibly pregnant. My friend Gila took one look at her and thought "that's Tziporah. It has to be. She has that aura that Sefardi Gal was telling me about."
She went up to her and asked her "excuse me, but...are you Tziporah?"
"Yes, I am."
Gila started crying and told her "you don't know me, but Natalie and Sefardi Gal are my close friends. I heard the wonderful news, and I just want you to know...even though we never met, I was davening for you. I made challah for you. And for the first time last week, I made challah and davened for both you and your baby."
At that point, Tziporah started crying too and thanked her profusely and blessed her. They embraced, and it was clearly an emotional night.

As the months passed, we continued to pray for Tziporah to have a healthy and easy pregnancy and to give birth to a healthy baby. She's due in Pesach time.
Except...
she won't be giving birth to a healthy baby during Pesach.

HaShem planned that she gave birth two weeks ago on Shabbat to not one, but TWO healthy babies. Twins. A boy and girl. And she was 2 months early, but the babies are perfectly healthy, Baruch HaShem.

Finally, after 12 years of trying, she and her husband were rewarded with two children, both genders, on the holiest day of the week. And after waiting 12 years, HaShem didn't want them to wait 9 months; He condensed the wait to 7 months.

I realize that this is a long story and it could've been told in four sentences or even less. Except, in my opinion, that would take away from the depth and emotions that were involved. It was a huge experience and lesson in emunah and bitachon for my close friends and myself.

Tziporah taught me that no matter how difficult life is, you NEVER give up your faith in HaShem. You never stop davening. Many women in her situation might've became depressed or would've just gave up. But no. Tziporah was persistent. She prayed, and she would go to (AND GIVE) shiurim and find something new to work on every day. She constantly invited guests over not only for Shabbat but also for other days of the week.
She gave others chizzuk and always wore a beautiful & cheerful smile on her face. She prayed for other barren couples who were in similar or even worse positions. She not only prayed for them, but she also forwarded and e-mailed their names to other people to pray for them. She once sent me a list of over 30 barren couples to daven for on Erev Shabbat.
She saw me recently and handed me a paper with the names of two or three couples in need of conceiving.
She allowed her adversity to be the catalyst for helping others. She didn't let her problems suppress her from reaching her potential and reaching out to help others, be it other barren couples, singles that she tried (and tries) to set up, or giving shiurim.

I also learned that the power of tefillah in GROUPS, as unified members of Klal Yisrael, has a huge impact. What better way to fulfill "love your neighbor as you love yourself" than to pray for him or her?
Just because Tziporah got pregnant, she didn't forget about all of the couples who are still trying. I think this is a crucial point to remember.
A Rabbi in my Shul once told a story about two single men who were praying for each other to find their zivugim. One of them found his zivug and got married. A few years later, his friend was still single. His friend asked him "are you still davening for me?" Embarrassed, the married friend admitted "no, I stopped after I got married."
We can't stop praying for our friends. Even if we have a long list. Even if we already found our zivug. We can't forget about the rest who still haven't found what they're looking for.

Tziporah and Gila were crying because a meeting wasn't necessary for Gila to feel Tziporah's pain. All Gila needed was her love for a fellow Jew to stimulate her tefillot.

Above all, I think I finally FELT (I only knew before) that HaShem truly does listen to our tefillot. Similar to the caterpillar in the dark and unfriendly cocoon, one needs to go through difficulties in life to become a beautiful colorful butterfly.

May Tziporah's story serve as an example to all of us that HaShem knows what He's doing and has a great plan for all of us. He only sends us trials and tribulations that we can handle.
And that Ahavat Yisrael and Tefillah can break all harsh decrees and barriers!

Shavua Tov and Chodesh Tov u'Mevurach to all!

1 More Cry

I was listening to a shiur about emunah, by one of my favorite speakers, Rabbi Dovid Goldwasser. In the shiur, he shared an incredible story about a man whom he knows personally. The man was married for 20 years and couldn't have children. 20 years! We should never know of such pain -- month after month, year after year, for 20 whole years waiting to have just one child.
This man prayed every single day in shemoneh esreh. He begged HaShem for a child. Please HaShem.
Please.
My child will grow up in the ways of Torah and mitzvot.
My child will be a tzadik (or tzadika)
I will love my child.
I will try and be the best parent.
Please HaShem! Have mercy. Have pity. Give me a child. Please. I'm begging of You. A zera chaya v'kayama.

Every day, he continued these sincere tefillot.

Until one day, on the 20th year of him and his wife being barren without any children -- he came to a resolution: enough tefillot. "I am no longer going to pray for a child. I've done enough. How many tefillot did I pray already?? How many thousands of shemoneh esrehs did I pray asking, begging, pleading? 20 years is enough. Apparently it is not destined that I should have a child, so I'm going to stop asking."
And so, he began shemoneh esreh, determined not to "give in" and ask HaShem for a child. He got up to "Shemah Kolenu" -- still set on not praying for children. It was quiet in the Shul. As he was in the middle of the "Shemah Koleinu" section, he heard the cry of a baby.
"What on earth? Am I hearing things? It's 6 AM, on a week day, and I'm in Shul! There's no baby here!"
As he was brushing off this notion, figuring that it was just his imagination, he heard a cry again.

And then he broke down in tears. How much he wants to hear a baby's cry in his own home! He cried and couldn't stop sobbing; he begged HaShem, with more fervor than ever in the past 20 years, for a child.
When he got home, he told his wife what happened at Shul. She began to cry and said it's a sign from HaShem -- they shouldn't stop praying!

Exactly 10 months later, she had a healthy baby!

You may be wondering -- so was there really a baby? Was it just his imagination?
The man later found out the truth:
there was a real baby in the Shul. A man brought his baby son to Shul because the baby didn't sleep all night long, and his wife was exhausted. She barely got any sleep and had a very difficult night. Finally, the baby fell asleep in the morning, and the husband wanted to ease his wife's stress and allow her to sleep peacefully - so he took the baby to Shul, figuring that since he was asleep, he wouldn't disturb anyone. The whole time, the baby was quiet, EXCEPT for those two moments during Shema Kolenu.
This man did a chessed for his wife, and in turn, he did a chessed for this barren couple.

Look at how much HaShem loves us - He cares about each one of us so much that he sends us individual wake up calls. He never gives up on us. Even if we feel that our tefillot aren't being answered, we must continue praying. It's never valid to STOP praying simply because you give up.
Why must we continue praying? Because our prayers are being answered - with a yes, no, or a maybe. Maybe now. Maybe later. It's similar to filling up a bottle of water - drop after drop.
Today's tefillah can be that last drop to finally fill up the bottle!