Ahavat Chinam - yay yay yay!

Well, now that we know that a lack of hakarat hatov/gratitute leads to jealousy, which leads to hate, we know the basis of sinat chinam.
Many people probably heard of Ahavat Chinam already, but how many of us actually know what this means?

We are taught that one way to help rebuild the Beit Hamikdash is Ahavat Chinam, which is baseless love. But what does baseless love mean? How can we practice it on the daily basis? Afterall, it's not every day that we see an old lady with groceries who needs help crossing the road. It's not every day that we help a kid who is lost at the mall. It's not every day that we need to rescue a drowning victim.
The beatles and hippies in the 1960s also thought they have baseless love. Loving everyone regardless of actions, beliefs, etc.
But they didn't bring Mashiach. In fact, they brought a lot of evil into the world with so much liberalism and "freedom", but that is a different discussion.
So what is Ahavat Chinam and how can we fufill that mitzvah on a daily basis?

Here're two VERY practical daily implications to increase ahavat chinam in Am Yisrael:
1. Increase Your Hakarat Hatov:
we say "modeh ani" to G-d every single morning that we wake up and have a new opportunity to experience life and fulfill our potential.
But G-d is not the only One that we need to give hakarat hatov to.
Every single person, regardless of his or her upbringing and situation, owes hakarat hatov to their Parents. Many people mistakenly assume that they don't owe their parents any respect if their parents haven't brought them up correctly. But to think like that is completely anti-ethical to what the Torah teaches us.
The Shulchan Aruch codifies it as halacha that every individual must respect his or her parents. The Shulchan Aruch gives an example of a parent who hits his child, yells at his child, and embarrasses his child (note: child doesn't mean a minor. A person is his parent's child even if he is 50 years old!)
What a terrible thing, lo aleinu. And yet, as terrible as that situation is, the Shulchan Aruch tells us it is ASSUR for that child to talk back, hit back, or insult his parents. (But that child SHOULD get away from such a parent. That isn't disrespectful; that's saving the child's life.)
Rabbi Wallerstein emphasizes the halacha that even if a parent is a rasha, a completely evil person, his child still has an obligation to respect him!
Even a mamzer, who is excommunicated in many ways in the community and can't marry a regular Jew, must respect his mother - even though his mother is the one who caused him to have the status of a mamzer!
Amazing. Really. If it wasn't clear halacha, it would be hard to believe.
But the reason for all this emphasis on kibud av v'em is that even in the most difficult situations, a person MUST have gratitude to his parents for the sole reasons that they are the ones who are responsible for giving him life and bringing him into this world.
The start to appreciating life is to appreciate the people who brought you into this world.

A person who has appreciation will appreciate what G-d does for him. If a person appreciates what G-d does for him, then he will be happy with life and not be jealous of others (see my last post on the blog).

How many people wait until a person has died to say "I wish i would've appreciated him/her more" or "I loved her so much...how i wish I would've told her."
The shiva, r"l, is too late. Express your feelings, love, and gratitude now before it's too late.

If we appreciate what we have, we'll give to others more easily because we'll realize how good we have it and how we should share our goodness with others.
2. Do Chessed Without Calculations!
Many people have an assumption that you only do chessed and things for others because they did something for you or because you have a particular reason. For example, helping someone who is ill because you also had that illness once. Or helping someone who's from an abused home because you also came from an abused home.
Or helping someone because they have no else one.
Now of course that is a HUGE mitzvah and something priceless and commendable.
But a person doesn't NEED to have a reason to do chessed! How about helping someone just because they're going through pain? Just because they need a friend? Just because they need a good influence in their life? Just because they need help?
We learn this from Avraham Avinu, the epitome of true chessed. What did the malachim, whom he thought were arabs, ever do for him? When he invites them offer, he says (loosely translated) "if I've found favor in your eyes...please come to my home" - he asks them do ME the favor.
That's how we should view helping our fellow Jew. They're doing ME the favor by needing help.
Rabbi Wallerstein gave two examples in one of his shiurim. Many times (particularly in Jewish communities in Eretz Yisrael and NY), such as after shacharit or a shiur in shul, people who need a ride but don't have a car will ask around (somewhat shyly) - "is anyone driving to ________?"
So instead of waiting for someone to ask you, you can get up and say "I'm driving to Brooklyn. Does anyone need a ride?"
Or as is common at weddings, many single girls don't have a ride to the wedding and need to car pool. You can ask the kallah before the wedding "does anyone from _______ (your city) need a ride to your wedding?" or during the wedding, you can spread the word that you're driving to ________, and you're happy to give a ride if anyone needs one.

The second example Rabbi Wallerstein gives is that often times, beggars (both Jewish and nonJewish) are sitting outside in the sweltering heat of the summer or freezing cold winter, asking for money. People give them money, but few people offer to get them a cold drink or hot drink. The beggars are often hesistant to take a 10 minute "break" from begging to go get themselves a drink because they'll lose money gaining opportunities during that time that they're not asking for money.
Regardless of whether or not the beggar is a nice person, (s)he is still a human being, and no human enjoys being overly hot and sweaty or freezing!
A nice thing to do is to say "can I please get you a drink?"

3. Daven For People - While On the Street!
I heard this idea from Rebbetzin kaganoff a few years ago at a summer learning session that I attended. This beautiful idea really made a strong impression on me & completely enhanced my life and ahavat yisrael. If you apply this to your life, I have no doubt that your ahavat chinam will enhance tremendously.
Always daven for people - not just during shmonah esreh!
Yes, shmona esreh is an amazing and important tefilla, but seek other opportunities to daven as well.
If you receive an e-mail or text or read a blog post/news article that someone is sick, say at least 1 perek of Tehillim. If you dont have time to say some Tehillim, you can simply say "HaShem please send this person a refua shlemah"
If you see a pregnant woman on the street, you can daven/whisper quietly while walking and say "HaShem please help her have an easy birth and healthy baby."
If you see a single, daven "G-d please send this person a good zivug."
If you see a Jew who is off the derech or not yet religious say "HaShem please help this person have opportunities to do teshuva and be close to You."
If you see a couple who are experiencing difficulty with conceiving children, you can pray "HaShem please help this couple have healthy and holy Jewish children."

Davening for strangers takes merely seconds and is just so beautiful. You establish a completely different connection and outlook towards members whom you don't know (and even ones who you do know) in am yisrael.
4. Resolve Your Issues with People But Also Stay Away!
If you have an issue/conflict with a friend or family member that can be sorted out through communication, a helpful mediator (such as a Rav or therapist), then go for it! There is a commandment that we are not allowed to hate a fellow Jew in our heart. Why does the pasuk say in "your heart"? Because you can't keep it IN. First, ideally, you should try to resolve to conflict within yourself. But if that's not doable, then calmly and rationally express your feelings to the person.
However, if for whatever reason, this is not possible or feasible, or you already tried doing so and that solution failed, then simply stay away from the people who annoy you, upset you, bring you down, etc. Once you have a distance from them, FORGIVE them & move on with your life.
There's no sin in staying away from a person who harms you, be it spiritually/religiously, emotionally, financially, physically. In fact, in most cases, it is probably a mitzvah to stay away from such an influence.
5. Give Tzdaka
Rambam teaches us that giving a little bit of tzdaka often is better than seldom giving a lot at the once. Why? Because giving tzdaka often conditions us to be giving. Humans are often habitual creations. By giving oa little bit daily or often, we get into the habit of being giving people. Giving a lot once in a while is certainly praiseworthy, but it doesn't bring out the midda of chessed and giving.
Aim to give tzdaka with kavana and a smile on your face. Even if it's "just" a penny or nickel a day in your tzdaka box at home, the very act of giving is praiseworthy! If a little bit once a day is no doable, then aim for once a week - like on Erev Shabbat. If that's not doable, aim for once a month.
Again, no amount is too little, and it's incredible how quickly and efficiently a little bit a day or once a week adds up to in a year.
Once a year, or whenever reached a certain amount, donate the money to the charity organization/cause of your choice. 


Again, many of the ideas posted here is credited to Rabbi Wallerstein. Shiur is linked in my last blog post :)

May HaShem help us all work on ourselves and to have true Ahavat Chinam!
May everyone have a Shabbat Shalom u'Mevorach!

May Flowers

Each Jew represents one letter in the sefer Torah. If even one letter is missing in a sefer Torah, then that sefer is pasul and can't be used. Similarly, every single member of Klal Yisrael is significant. If even one is on your hate/grude/lashon hara list, then Klal Yisrael is not complete. If there is hate among Am Yisrael, then it is as if we are creating a pasul Sefer Torah!

We are now in the mourning period during sefirat haomer. (According to some, the mouring starts in chodesh Iyar.) We remember Rabbi Akiva's 24,000 students who perished because they disrespected each other. The Gmara refers to them not as 24,000 students, rather as 12,000 pairs. There's a great question about this Gmara. Why use the fancy language of 12,000 PAIRS? Why not just outright state 24,000?
A possible answer is that each individual respected his other half/pair (ie: chavruta). However, when it came to other people - the respect wasn't there.
A person's chavruta thinks similarly to him. It's easy to respect those who are similar to us and respect us. However, the challenge arises when our fellow Jew is DIFFERENT from us.

In this past week's parsha, parshat Kedoshim, HaShem teaches us the mitzvah of "v'ahavta l're'acha kamocha" - love your fellow Jew as you love yourself. It is no coincidence that this commandment falls during sefirat haomer/the mourning period. How can we deal with those who frustrate us? Be it because of personality, religious, social/ethnic clashes, etc.
-We must try to find the positive attributes in every person. Nobody is perfect, but there is also nobody who is completely flawed.
-Try to put yourself in the shoes of the other person. Ask yourself - "if I were him/her, how would I feel in this situation?" Find a benefit of the doubt/zchut/excue/rationalization for their behavior.
-You do not need to AGREE with a person in order to love him/her. You can say "I neither like nor agree with the lifestyle/attitude this person has." You can love someone who is sinning, irritating, rude, etc. Hate the dreadful action, not the person.

Shavua tov u'mevurach!

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!

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.

Happy Cccccchanukah!!!!!!!

I think the "I throw my latkes in the air sometimes, singing eyyyyooo! Spin the Dreidel!!!!" line is stuck in everyone's head at the moment.

In case you don't know what I'm referring to...


(Were sufganiyot really not mentioned??)

Speaking (well writing. Actually...typing) of sufganiyot -- my friend showed me this hilarious video:

We were all cracking up! :D

I ALWAYS miss Israel and seminary during Chanukah. I was (and am) extremely close with my roomies. We all lit together and gazed at the lights, had an awesome chagiga, had crazy hyper moments (that was every day, though!), and ate sufganiyot, of course ;)
(Uri's Caramel Sufganiyot!)
The environment in Israel is always just so special. During Chanukah, everyone lit outside and the family togetherness was simply heartwarming.

My amazing friend shared a nice dvar Torah with me about Chanukah.
"Yavan" (Greece) in Hebrew is spelled "yud" "vav" "nun"...the three letters are shaped as vetical lines that ascendingly get longer. The Greek culture focused mainly on the body, on the external factors of a person. They worshipped the body and idols, both of which are extremely materialistic & don't have any potential or spiritual growth. "Yavan" also means "quicksand" in Hebrew. That's because materialism and physicality are like quicksand...they grab you and then pull you in, making it laborious to get out and save yourself.
Now, clearly, not ALL materialism is bad. Mesillat Yesharim makes it clear that as Jews, we raise the physical by incorporating spirituality into it. But certain mentalities are totally antiethical to Judaism. For example, being so obsessed with our blackberries, to the point that we can't focus on davening or learning Torah. Why can't we turn off our phones for 30 minutes? Are we THAT attached to the meaningless gadgets? More attached to them than we are to HaShem?
Another example that comes to mind is Tzniut. The Yevanim didn't have ANY concept of modesty. If they wore any clothing, it was very minimal. They wanted to show off the body as much as possible. Some girls think that as long as they're wearing a long sleeved shirt and some form of a skirt, they're good to go. They can get by without having anyone chastize them. But it doesn't have to do with criticism! It has to do with appreciating yourself (your holy neshama) enough to cover up -- to the point that your body isn't the main factor that you're associated with. To tell people: I'm more than my body. I appreciate my myself, I have a brain, I have thoughts, feelings, ambitions, etc. And that's what makes me -- not my body.
I have to deal with this a lot. Magazine, media, models, and all of the shtuyot aside, which outfits really are appropiate for a bat yisrael to wear? It requires a lot of thought, honesty, and inner strength. If any frum man rejects a girl because she's dressed tzanua, then what does he value, exactly? Does she really want to have such a husband? I know that I don't.
A third example is competition. Yevanim were beyond competitive. They had olympics, contests, etc. There's NO SUCH THING as competition in the Torah! Each individual is an important and significant member of Klal Yisrael. It's assur to step on someone to "make it big" -- be it at school, work, etc.

On Chanukah, there was a "Nes" (miracle) for the Maccabees, who didn't give in to Greek culture.
We all have "Nisyonot" (tests). Our lives are filled with Nisyonot and part of missions is to pass those tests. Nisayon in Hebrew is spelled "Nun" "Samech" "Yud" Vav" "Nun"
If you take away the last three letters (which spell "yavan"), you end up with "Nes" (miracle). If we take the "Yavan" out of our mentality and our lives, then b"H we'll see a great Nes in each of our lives! :)

Wishing you all a Chag Chanukah Sameach and Shabbat shalom! May we all have the strength to stay away from all of the harmful shtuyot, and may we merit to see miracles in our daily lives!

The Holocaust: More Relevant Now than Before

As I grow older, the holocaust continues to traumatize me and increasingly forces me to think and re-evaluate my life more.
There's this stigma, that I've heard more than once -- said by people with no shame, that Jews of middle-eastern descent who didn't have relatives killed in the holocaust don't indentify with the holocaust. When I first heard this stereotype, I was shocked. I was shocked that a Jew can tell another Jew such a thing.
I first learned about the holocaust when I was 6 years old. My 1st grade teacher was telling us about yom hashoah. This teacher, unfortunately, didn't have much tact when it came to teaching 1st graders about how evil men slaughtered millions of innocent Jews. She told us about the showers that weren't really water showers, like the ones we bathe in at home, rather -- they were made of gas and killed these people.
The whole issue boggled me. I didn't understand. I raised my hand and asked the teacher "how come G-d helped our avot but not these people?" I had no doubt that HaShem was there, I just didn't understand how He allowed them to be killed. A remedial and naive understanding, obviously.

I came home shaken, and my Mother took me to the library and took out a children's book about Anne Frank. Until this day, the illustrations of Jews with shaven heads are etched in my mind.
For years to follow -- from elementary to middle school, we continued learning about the holocaust. They showed us movies, we read stories, we had survivors come and re-tell their stories. It always gave me the chills, and for years, I was scared to shower. I was scared to sleep with the light off. I was even scared to have books about the holocaust in my room.
And not once did I ever think to myself "these are Ashkenazi Jews. I'm Sefardi." I thought to myself "these are Jews. These are my people - my ancestors." - Just like I thought that the Jews who were killed after the Beit Hamikdash were just Jews who lived 2,000 years ago. Or that the Jews in the Tanach were Jews who lived 4,000 years ago. Everyone who is Jewish was relevant to my life simply because they're Jewish.
It never occurred to me that they were "different" and not related to me, simply because they lived in a different region than my Grandparents did.

Until now, even though I'm able to shower or sleep with the light off, I'm still terrified of holocaust movies and literature. I can't bring myself to visit the camps. Not out of apathy, but out of empathy. There's a voice inside of me that tells me these people were forced to go to these camps and now we're volunteering to do so. Would they want us to? I'm not so sure. I'm not so sure that I want to stand on the same ground where such horrors occurred per the second.

As I grow older, I find that the holocaust is more relevant than ever because my understanding of it develops to be more mature and spiritually aware. There're so many adults, well into their 50s and 60s, who question G-d's existence and use the holocaust as an excuse for not believing. That's precisely why I say it's a rudimentary, immature understanding of it. If one looks closely into the history and details of the Nazis and holocaust, the facts seem so particularly impossible that it's clear that G-d's Hand was fully there in guiding history.
And as I grow older, I read more and more stories, watch more and more footage, and meet more and more people who have miraculous, inspiring stories and positive outcomes.
And it becomes clear to me: G-d was 100% there during the holocaust. The question isn't "Who?" - it's "Why?" But that same exact question has been asked many times before, and Jews didn't lose their faith.

Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau, Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis, and The Satmer Rebbe are strong figures who come to mind. Their answer to the same question that many struggle with is one that doesn't even question faith.

If anyone's interested in shiurim about "Where was G-d during the holocaust?" and/or "Why did G-d allow the holocaust to happen?", then I highly recommend Rabbi Bentzion Shafier's shiurim. The shiurim are free, and they can completely change one's entire outlook because they shed a lot of light on this dark topic.