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Review:Last week’s stretch of the week was: Look for a way that you can help in your community, and take a step toward doing it. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #21PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERSDo Not Judge Another Until You Are In His PlaceV’Al Tadin Es Chavari-cha Ad She’takia’a Limkomo Perek Bais, Mishna Hay Story: (based on a true story) It was erev Shabbos and I was calmly kneading challah when the phone rang and I mindlessly answered it, “Hello?” “Mrs. Zalcman?” “Yes, who’s this?” I answered. “Mrs. Sternberg. My daughter Malka and your daughter Rifka are in 8th grade together. I hear you are one of the chaperones taking the girls on the trip to Washington. I have some issues I’d like to discuss with you! First of all, are you sure you can handle the situations that are going to come up? I mean, forgive me, I don’t know you at all!” She was correct that we didn’t know each other at all, and that was more her fault than mine. My family had just moved to our small town the previous summer and it was now almost the middle of May. Since the beginning of the school year, there had been monthly parent meetings and fund-raising events for the big Washington trip, and despite her concerns and questions and much encouragement to attend, neither Mrs. Sternberg nor her husband had ever shown up for one of the meetings. If she had attended the meetings, she’d have known that I’d never intended to chaperone this trip so soon after moving to a new community. But as the year moved on, there was only one committed chaperone, and she needed another parent to accompany her, otherwise the trip would be canceled. I thought mostly of how disappointed my daughter would be after the hardship of moving and changing schools for 8th grade, so I became the second chaperone, and was very excited. Then the phone call came crashing me back into reality with this angry mother. I took a deep breath and calmly answered her. “What concerns are you talking about?” “Well, forgive me for being blunt, but who are you? Where do you come from and how do I know my child will be safe with you? What level frumkeit are you holding at? We’re cholov yisroel, I want to make sure that if you decide to go somewhere, my child won’t eat ice cream that’s cholov stam!” I’d long forgotten my challah kneading, and now moved to my living room, sat down on the couch and was slightly shaking. Nonetheless, I calmly answered what I could, all the while being in a state of shock. “Mrs. Sternberg, I truly wish we could have gotten to know each other before today, just days before the trip! If you’d only come to one or two of the parent meetings throughout the year, you’d perhaps have been reassured that your daughter is going to be treated just like my own daughter. As for cholov yisroel, even though I’m sure you’re daughter knows what to eat and what not to eat, I would never, on a school function, take a group of girls who all hold differently, to a cholov stam ice cream shop and have some girls just watch others eat. As for my level of frumkeit, I think that is for a longer discussion, but the principal has approved my being a chaperone, so if you have any doubts about me personally, perhaps that might be the best place to discuss those issues. But please know that your daughter will be truly cared for in my hands and I’m personally looking forward to the trip. Have a good Shabbos!” After that, she too wished me a hasty Good Shabbos and hung up the phone. My challah was all but forgotten, I was so upset with her chutzpa. Nonetheless, the trip was fabulous, and Mrs. Sternberg’s daughter was absolutely lovely. The summer went by, and when my daughter started high school we found out that this woman was a ninth grade teacher at the school. I was terrified; things hadn’t ended so well between us and I hoped she wouldn’t treat my daughter differently as a result. My fear was founded as the year progressed. Mrs. Sternberg seemed to pick on my daughter. I talked gently to her a couple times, to no avail. Often at the shul kiddish or at school events I would see her standing alone staring at me while I stood with a group of my friends laughing and chatting. I admit I was too scared and intimidated by her to approach her, but I was intrigued by her. Finally in an attempt to understand her better I asked some close friends of mine who had lived in town longer than me what her story was. I was shocked; on paper our stories could have been the same. Her father had died when she was very young and her mother raised her and her siblings on her own with almost no help, with Mrs. Sternberg’s mother imposing on her many parental responsibilities even as a young child. I knew personally the pain and bitterness an upbringing like that sometimes fosters. When I myself had grown up, I had some counseling and some amazing mentors, and I learned to take a happier and sunnier approach to life. I had also met so many people along my journey with similar stories that had a harder time finding their joy and peace.Once I understood where Mrs. Sternberg’s bitterness and anger might come from, things shifted for me. My resentment and anger toward her melted away and all I had left for her was pure rachamim and empathy. As the days passed, something grew from that empathy: a desire to help her be happier and to get to know her. So one day I got up enough courage and called

Review:Last week’s stretch of the week was: Look for a way that you can help in your community, and take a step toward doing it. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #22 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS  And the Quick, Impatient Person Cannot Teach V’Lo HaKapi’dan M’lamayd Perek Bais, Mishna Vav Story: (based on a true story) The best teacher I’d ever had in school was my 4th and 5th grade chumash teacher Mrs. Speilman.  She was a lovely soft spoken woman that actually lived down my block while I was growing up.  In addition to teaching at the Bais Yaakov five days a week, she also gave a Shabbos afternoon shiur for any girl between the ages of 10 and 14 who would like to attend.  She was a unique lady respected by all, and try as I might, I can’t remember her ever raising her voice to any of us girls.  However what stands apart from all the memories I have of this wonderful teacher, was her unique and gentle way of handling and teaching her class lessons of respect.   Mrs. Speilman had a serious weight issue.  For those of us that had grown up in her neighborhood, we’d been used to seeing her obese size and the accommodations she needed to make and thought nothing of it.  We simply saw beyond her limitations to the wonderful teacher that she was.  Until that one year when a new girl, Shira, moved to our neighborhood and joined our class.  She wasn’t a very respectful girl and right away she began making fun of Mrs. Speilman behind her back to us girls about our teacher’s need to always sit down, use a cane for walking, and have special dresses made especially for her.  She would slyly poke fun at Mrs. Speilman’s size and Shira began to have a following of girls who also started to joke about our teacher behind her back.  Though we all thought they were being secretive about it, it must have eventually reached Mrs. Speilman’s ears because one day, instead of our usual class assignments, she presented us with a lesson that has stayed with me to this day.  Sitting at her desk in front of us, she quietly pulled out a secular newspaper and made a big production of turning several pages as if looking for a story and finally finding it, she turned and folded the paper, put on her reading glasses, and began to read. “According to a recent study from the University of Chicago Psychology department, it would appear that blond haired girls age ten or eleven are significantly less intelligent than brown haired girls the same age…” She stopped reading, took off her glasses and addressed us.  “Well, how do you like that?” she asked. No one spoke, especially blond haired Shira.  Mrs. Speilman just starred at us.  “No comments?  No one has anything to say?  Does anyone believe this?  Could this possibly be true?” she looked directly at Shira.  Shira squirmed in her seat.   Slowly some girls began to comment, and before long there was a heated discussion between brown and blond headed girls on whether or not they were smarter than each other.  Then Mrs. Speilman got everyone’s attention and called for quiet and began to tell us that what she really read was a fictitious article, that there was no such study, and that blond and brown haired girls are equal in intelligence depending on individual intellect.  She further explained that she did this little “lesson” to prove a point to us all.  That singling out someone based on a physical attribute wasn’t kind or fair, and that she wanted us to understand and feel what that would be like.  Then she kindly urged us to refrain from any sort of behavior like that because HaShem created everyone the way HE wanted them to be, and that to ridicule something HaShem created would be such a horrid aveira and she wouldn’t want us to ever do such a terrible sin. Shira, nor any other girl in our class, ever made fun of Mrs. Speilman ever again.  As a mother now, I can imagine so many other teachers who might have handled such behavior with a phone call home, with a strong word, or with sending a student to the principal, etc…  But Mrs. Speilman was a respected, calm, clever model of a Bas Yisrael; a true teacher in every sense of the word.   Pirkay Avos: “Hu haya omer:  … V’lo hakap’dan m’lamayd…” “He (Hillel) used to say:  …And the quick, impatient person cannot teach…“ (Perek Bais, Mishna Vav). An irritable teacher shames his students and inhibits them from asking questions.  Therefore, writes Rabbainu Yona, “A teacher should not be angry or short-tempered.  He should instead be calm and reply to everyone and to every question.  If his answer is not clear, he should explain again until people understand.”  Otherwise, his students will remain ignorant or, worse, misguided. In addition, K’nesses Yisrael on Pirkay Avos states that the students of an angry teacher will model him and act angry themselves.  Furthermore, an angry teacher makes mistakes, since anger causes a person to err.  As a result, he will misinform his students. After the incident of the Ai’gel HaZahav, the Golden Calf, Moshe moved out of the camp, together with the Ohel Mo’ed, the Tent of Meeting.  HaShem then told him to bring the Ohel Mo’ed back to its place, so Moshe moved back to camp.  R’ Abahu explains that after Moshe moved out of the camp HaShem told him, “The Jews will say that I am angry at them and that you are angry at them as well.  Now, if you show them how angry you are by moving the Ohel Mo’ed from the camp, what will happen to them?  Bring the tent back to its place, and if you choose not to do so, Yehoshua bin Nun

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Make a point this week to try and be extra calm and even tempered in a situation you know yourself to get angry about.  Take deep breaths and try and relax instead of getting hot under the collar!  Note the reactions of the others around you.  Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #23 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS And In The Place Where There Are No Men, Strive To Be A Man U’Vimkom She’ain Anashim, Hishtadel L’Hiyose IshPerek Bais, Mishna Vav Part 2 Story:  (based on a true story) Moving to a new city is never easy, and socially for a mom it can be hard to branch out and meet new people.  However, having five children in grade school certainly makes it easier meeting other parents.  So recently, after moving to our new community, I was assigned to work as a lunch mother for my daughters’ Bais Yaakov grammar school.  The job paired me with three other moms, and our job consisted of heating up the catered hot lunch, setting up the stations, serving the lunch and then cleaning up.  During the clean-up and after, the other moms and I had a lovely time getting to know each other, and over the first month I happily considered them my new friends. After that first month, we began going for coffee after our hot lunch duty.  That’s when I started to notice certain things I wasn’t comfortable with.  Generally we’d chit-chat about our families, our children, running large households, and community activities – pretty generic topics that were fun, helpful and passed the time rather well.  Then, the closer we all got, I began noticing that the other three ladies seemed to want to fill me in on neighborhood gossip of sorts.  Much of it was clear cut lashon hora — things I sincerely didn’t, and more so, shouldn’t hear about other people.  At first I was surprised and didn’t know what to do.  Not being the sort of person that is too outspoken, I said nothing except make excuses like I had to be home, or I was late for being somewhere.  These ladies weren’t horrible people, they were honestly very nice and I truly liked being with them.  Perhaps, I thought, they just were unfamiliar with the deep tenets of lashon hora. So, I devised a plan.  I spoke to the Rabbi’s wife at our synagogue and had her suggest a good lesson plan and book to learn sh’miras halashon.  I explained to her that I wanted to set up a private learning group at my house and invite some friends of mine over once a week.  Then I invited the ladies I did hot lunch with, along with a few other ladies I’d met at other places around the community.  Of the three ladies from hot lunch, only one agreed to attend.  However, within six weeks my learning group was so popular, other members in my community began attending, and eventually the other two women from the hot lunch did start coming as well.  When I evaluated what I had begun to do and where I’d wound up, I realized some interesting things.  My goal was to subtly help the three hot lunch ladies to learn all about lashon hora, and in the end I’d really helped myself out much more.  Perhaps the other ladies were helped along the way.  As for me, I’d benefited in becoming a leader in an area in our community that was lacking, and, in doing so, I’d become a contributing part of my community, made a lot of friends along the way, and became a stronger person through all of it. Pirkay Avos: “Hu haya omer:  … U’Vimkom she’ain anashim, hishtadel l’hiyose ish.“ “He (Hillel) used to say:  …And in the place where there are no men, strive to be a man.“ (Perek Bais, Mishna Vav). This mishna has largely stressed the importance of learning Torah.  However, if a person finds that everyone else has enclosed himself within the four cubits of Torah and no one is acting on behalf of the community, then, in Rashi’s words, “where there are no men, strive and work on behalf of the communal interests.” In the same spirit, some people interpret this clause as teaching that it is precisely where there are no “men”, no Torah leaders, one must go and strive to be a man if one has the capacity to spread Torah in such circumstances.  The Talmud tells us that one time Rav, student of Rabi Yehuda HaNasi and Rav Chiya, left his home town of Neharde’a and passed through the city of Sura.  There he heard one woman ask another, “How much milk do you need to cook a litra of meat?”  To counter this sort of utter ignorance, Rav opened a yeshiva in this locale, which transformed Sura into a world-famous Torah center for hundreds of years. At times a person wishes to do no more than match the level of his environment or at best exceed it somewhat.  No, says Hillel, do not allow yourself to slip into mediocrity, do not compare yourself merely to those in your immediate vicinity.  Strive to be a man, a person who fulfills his potential. (Reproduced from Rav Lau on Pirkei Avos,with permission of the copyright holders, ArtScroll / Mesorah Publications, Ltd.) Discussion Question Options: What are ways you can be someone who “fulfills his potential” and makes a difference in your community, or to those around you? Identify some ways, we as community members, tend to slip into mediocrity. What are some ways we can avoid slipping into mediocrity? Stretch of the Week: Make the effort to do one thing to make a difference to someone around you or for your community.

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Make the effort to do one thing to make a difference to someone around you or for your community.  Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #24 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS A Good Eye Ayin Tov Perek Bais, Mishna Yud Gimmel Part 1 Story:  (based on a true story)  She has my life, the life I wanted, the one I felt I was supposed to have. When I looked ahead as a high school and seminary girl, I always saw myself in my kitchen, making simple but large meals to feed the many guests my husband and I would have.  I would set large platters of schnitzel in front of my husband as he spoke to yeshiva boys or the many people who need a place to eat Shabbos meals.  And, I would have a fulfilling job, where I could feel I was making a difference with my particular talents and skills, incorporating my love and talent for music and using it to help the world.  My life looks nothing like that now.  It’s a good life.  We have enough to eat and wear and a decent apartment to live in.  I go to my office job every day and do quality work.  On Shabbos my husband, children and I gather around our small dining table and talk about the parsha on each child’s level.  There are no guests.  I’m not sure we could afford them regularly, and my husband has come to prefer not being overwhelmed by lots of people and feels that at Shabbos meals we need to focus on our kids above all else.  Plus, one of my kids is terrified of strangers. Usually, I’m fine.  But every so often I get together with my best friend Shifra from high school, the one with whom I used to sing and write songs until 2 o’clock in the morning.  She’s a music therapist now, working a combination of jobs that includes being an elementary school music teacher and working with Alzheimer’s patients in a hospital.  Lately she’s beginning to think about putting out an album of her own original work, and having one of her Alzheimer’s patients who has a great voice sing one of the songs.  Oh, and she has family after family of company, almost every week.  She’s constantly getting called to host people for simchos and just because.   Sometimes I almost hate her.  I don’t want to, but I do.  Shifra’s doing so much that I wish I were doing.  What’s ironic is that in high school I was the go-getter and she was always the quieter one who often tagged along.  People would always say to me, “You’re going places!  I’ll look you up in ten years and see all the things you’re doing!”  And now, that’s her.  It’s not that I don’t want her to be successful and to use the beautiful music I spent most of high school convincing her she had.  I don’t want to begrudge her all her guests and the spectacular combination of timing, husband, kids and circumstance that make it possible for her.  I wish it could be both of us doing all of this, but it’s not.  And seeing her and hearing about her life makes me feel small and incompetent.  A few months after Shifra told me about the album, my husband noticed that I was avoiding her.  I confessed the pain it caused me knowing this step she was taking in using her music, and how I didn’t want to feel negatively toward her, but, I did. “So don’t,” he said simply, in that husband way.  Not so easy, but he seemed to think it was, or at least that it was that important.  “You really need to figure out how not to feel so negatively toward her; ayin hara is real and can affect her life, which I know you don’t want.  It’s your mishegas, not hers, right?  So go do something with your music.”  I was annoyed to hear it, but I knew he was right. My husband knew how badly we needed the salary from my office job, so I know he didn’t mean a new career.  What should I do and how should I stop feeling so negative towards Shifra? It turns out they were connected.  Out of worry for the damage I could do to Shifra’s life, I signed up for a mussar program where a chavrusa and I went through a series of lessons on emuna.  I learned about believing that each of us is given the circumstances for the life we are meant to live, whether it’s within our plans or not.  And I learned about living that life to its best, using every tool HaShem has given me, because that is my purpose.  I learned that focusing on Shifra’s and others’ lives and what I didn’t have was bad for me, and kept me from being me and using my strengths. With my chavrusa, I figured out ways to integrate the lessons into my life.  If I couldn’t host Shabbos guests, I could make a dish each week for an organization that provides Shabbos food to those who need.  Feeding people on Shabbos takes many forms.  And I began singing with my children every day.  My oldest would say, “Ma, stop!” but then I would hear him quietly singing along.  I sang when I was stressed, which helped me calm down and brought up my mood.  And each night before bed I sang to myself, “Tov l’hodos…u’lezamer l’shimcha elyon; l’hagid baboker chasdecha ve’emunas’cha balailos;” I need to thank HaShem and sing to Him, every day, and have emuna when thing are hard.  Then I would think about my life, and thank HaShem for something in it, and pat myself on the back for the way I handled something that day. After building up my emuna in HaShem and in

Review:  Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Catch yourself thinking negatively about a situation and try to shift to a more positive outlook. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #25 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS A Good Friend…A Good Neighbor Chovair Tov…Shochain Tov Perek Bais, Mishna Yud Gimmel Part 2 Story:  (based on a true story) I was worried the minute the house next door went on the market.  I loved my neighbors of six years, but they were making aliya and I was beyond thrilled for them.  I knew how much I would miss my friendship with Chaya.  We had been supporting and pushing each other in motherhood, ruchni’us and attaining simcha since my family moved in, and were both grateful for the fact that we lived so close and could be regular parts of each others’ lives.  Being next door created the potential for conflict–we shared a couple of trees as well as a driveway entrance, among other differences so many neighbors have.  We worked out the small necessary issues and ignored others, and a beautiful relationship was able to blossom. Because of this, I was not prepared for how things ended shaping up with my new neighbors, despite our sharing a wonderful Shabbos meal just after they arrived.  Within a week of moving in, the Shneirsons’ four boys began to host frequent baseball and football games in their backyard.  They are often found extending past the large shared driveway and into our yard with balls being regularly hit and thrown onto our property and someone running through whatever my kids are doing (at the time) to retrieve them.  On a gorgeous day just before Rosh Hashanah, I found my eight-year-old daughter jumping rope with her friends in the basement; she said she now played inside on nice days so she wouldn’t get hit by any balls or running boys.    On top of that, Baila Schneirson often parked her car in the lower shared part of the driveway in such a way that I couldn’t get in.  After mentioning it a few times and getting an “Oh my gosh, sorry!  I’ll try harder in the future” but with no change.  I began taking street parking whenever I could find it, even if it was across the street and I had my little ones and groceries with me.  Often I would need to send a child to knock on their door and have them move their car. By the time the Yomim Tovim were over, I had figured out that the Shneirsons could have been good friends of ours if they didn’t live next door.  We loved their positive energy and their casual way of leading a low-stress life without sweating the details.  For us, though, this meant loose boundaries in terms of our properties.  They were completely consistent, it didn’t bother them if we strayed into their property, but it did bother us.  My mother would say, “Just park in the middle of the driveway on purpose for a week.  She’ll get the message!”  But I couldn’t do that.  So I stewed, and snapped at the boys to stay out of our yard, and reminded Baila about the car.  I was that kind of neighbor.  I had a feeling it wasn’t fun living next door to me. A long talk with another friend revealed that she and many other people grew up and lived with loose backyard boundaries.  The kids on the block played basketball in her driveway and baseball and tag at the two houses in back of hers because they had a big combined yard, and the girls took whoever’s yard was free, even if that girl wasn’t playing.  Sure, they had permission from everyone, but it was a pretty informal thing.  Just because it wasn’t the way I grew up and did things, didn’t mean that it was a wrong way.  I had been judging the Shneirsons’ way as wrong from the start, which gave me little mental room to give a little where possible.  Clearly, a compromise was in order-I had things I needed, and it would be best for me to give a little too, even if it was something I felt I had a right to.  So we sat down and talked.  In the spirit of “good fences make good neighbors”, we agreed to paint a line down the middle of the driveway to help each driver know where he or she couldn’t be.  A pair of bright, cheerful colors turned it into a makeshift balance beam for the girls and a happy reminder for their mother of the necessity to be extra careful for the sake of shalom and simcha between neighbors.  The Shneirsons agreed to tell their boys to stay out of our yard when we asked them to, and to speak to them about the importance of listening to us.  We agreed to speak up when there was an issue instead of stewing, and to let the kids play by us at other times, which our boys ended up enjoying as well.  Meanwhile, I decided to try to be a little more informal and let the kids sort things out, as long as they were safe.  I began teaching my daughter to stand up for her needs and to come get me when necessary. Six months later, it’s still not as easy and seamless as it was with my original neighbors.  It’s not always easy for the kids to work things out, but they need my help less and less.   They are learning to deal with others who may not be like them but who are going to be there nonetheless.  It’s not my ideal way of doing things, but I try to focus on what we are all learning.  I am learning to ask for what I need calmly, and a little of Baila’s tendency to take things in stride is rubbing off on me for the better.  And, every

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Go out of the way for a neighbor by doing something extra or letting something go. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #26 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS A Good Heart  Laiv TovPerek Bais, Mishna Yud Gimmel Part 3 Story:  (based on a true story) Do you know any perfect people?  I know a few.  I don’t mean that they’re really perfect; clearly no one is, and these people I know not only have faults but are happy to admit them and ask your advice or thoughts.  These people strike me as perfect because they are just so nice, seemingly always.  You just feel comfortable with them. These perfect people always have a kind word for someone, whether it’s a compliment, an acknowledgement or a commiseration.  They never a bad word about or for anyone, and never a negative judgment, at least out loud.  And I really do believe that their outsides reflect their insides.  It’s not necessarily that they don’t do battle internally; it’s that they seem to have figured out and nailed the idea that having a  positive, giving and loving perspective on life and the people in it smoothes the path toward being a good person, the person HaShem wants each of us to be. I don’t have this yet.  I’m working on it, but there’s definitely more work to be done.  I know this for many reasons.  Here’s one. I got a new occupational therapist for my son Shmueli this summer.  Within a couple of weeks of really good and creative work, Malki loved Shmueli and he loved her, and I had a nice rapport with her too.  Then, a few more weeks in, while I was having a really hard day, I found out that there was a scheduling glitch that might cost Shmueli some time off his sessions.  I became worried that he wasn’t getting the time he needed and that we were paying for, so I asked Malki about it.  She apologized and said, “Don’t worry-I always keep track of my session times with the children I see.  We’ll make up what we lost.”  But that wasn’t enough for me.  I pressed her for details and specific scheduling, and repeatedly expressed my dismay about having lost time and having had my schedule changed on me. By the time I made it home five minutes later, I knew what I had done wrong.  Yes, a mother has to stand up for her child and what he needs and should know what’s going on, but my mini-tirade wasn’t about my son.  It was about me:  what I needed, and wanted, and deserved, and had to know.  I never stopped to think about anyone else, and how my doubting and micro-managing Malki would make her feel.  I didn’t think about whether it was OK to imply blame when I kvetched about the wrongness of people changing schedules on me. Before the next session, I apologized for how I spoke, and she thanked me for it and accepted it while saying she understood that we all have those days.  But something had changed.  At each session, she was still great with Shmueli but when she spoke to me, something in her eyes was different.  I never asked her about it, but I know that it was not so much that I did not act correctly, but that I revealed a lack of caring.  I put myself and my feelings before hers and treated her lowly.  I doubted her integrity.  It’s very hard to come back from that.  She tried, but the eyes showed me.  My “perfect” friends would not have done this; I know because they’ve been in similar situations and haven’t.  They might make other mistakes, but their internal feelings about the goodness of others prevented the words and insinuations, even as they got what they needed for their children.   So I’m working on it even more now.  I need to stop myself when I feel the negativity coming and think, “This is a person, not just someone who I need something from.  This person is HaShem’s creation, and has a special neshama.  I need to slow down and look for the good, and see her needs and give her the respect she deserves.”  If I can do this, I will have a clearer and more patient mind, which is good for me too, so I can be a person who sees the world and the people in it more positively. So that’s my new goal for perspective:  It’s not all about me, each person is HaShem’s creation, give the benefit of the doubt and respect.  These are my mental steps toward a more perfect me, to a nice me.  Because HaShem is the ultimate giver of caring and understanding, the more I internalize those traits, the more I fulfill my potential from being created in His image. Pirkay Avos: “Omar lahem:  Tz’u u’r’u aizo hi derech tova sheyidbak bah ha’adam…Rabi Elazar omer, laiv tov.…“. “He (Rabban Yochanan ben Zakai) said to them (his students):  “Go out and see which is the proper path to which a person should cling…”  Rabi Elazar says, “A good heart”….“(Perek Bais, Yud Gimmel). Shlomo HaMelech states, “Guard your heart against every [thought of evil], because the paths of life come from it” (Mishlai 4:23).  When a person has a good heart, he views others beneficently, he loves and is beloved, his character is pleasant, his bearing is mild, his thinking is healthy, and his deeds are pleasing. Rabbainu Yona sees the “good heart” as the perfection of the trait of humility, which is associated with patience, following which a person’s other traits will improve as well.   The parallel passage in Avos D’Rabbi Nosson (1:5) speaks in greater detail of “a good heart in regard to heaven and a good heart in regard to human beings.”  This, states Rabbainu Yona, means that a person

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  In an interaction with another person, focus on that person and what they need. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #27 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS Let Your Colleague’s Honor Be As Dear To You As Your Own Y’hi Ch’vod Chaver’cha Chaviv Alecha K’Shelach Perek Bais, Mishna Tes Vav Part 1 Story:  (based on a true story) Since I was very young I’d had the knack for taking photos.  Early on my parents noticed how well my pictures from the family camera had come out, and for my ninth birthday they bought me my first Kodak camera.  Years later, and nearly fifteen cameras and thousands of photographs later, after I’d completed seminary, I went to college for professional photography classes.  There I was taught a lot about the technique, the history, and the art of my craft.  During college, I met and married my husband, and soon began to start our family.  I did however manage to juggle both marriage and school, finally completing my courses and graduating my program.  My husband and I decided that I would be a stay at home mom since his career afforded us that financial comfort, and I could easily freelance my work from home.  I became quite creative.  Since I didn’t have a studio, I took on some Sunday clients whom wanted out of the box photography sessions of their children and family.  I would do park or lake setting photo shoots at dawn that were just beautiful.  It helped bring in extra money here and there and appeased my creative talent.  Occasionally I would also freelance my own photos out to magazines.  Though, all in all, my first priority remained my children and family.  About a year ago, a lady in my neighborhood asked me some advice since she wanted to start taking pictures on her husband’s old camera.  She was so sweet, and as a chessed, I had her over a few times to my house and explained the basics as best I could — in a quick photography 101 condensed sort of explanation.  She was so happy to understand, and several times I’d visited her house to help set up a dark room for her.  I’d also left her a couple easy-step manuals on how to master developing her own photos.  Then I didn’t hear from her for a few months. Nearly six months later I received an invitation in the mail with a handwritten card.  It was from the lady I’d taught photography basics to, and at first I was so surprised I had to sit down and process it.  The invitation was to a photography showing of contest winners.  This lady had taken a picture – sometime after my lessons, that placed second in the contest, and the photo was being featured in a big showing downtown.  The handwritten card was quite heartfelt.  She wanted me to be her guest because she personally owed me her hakaras ha’tov for helping her get started, and in being the first to take the time to teach her what she needed to know.  Apparently, inside this lady lie a sleeping dormant talent that was bursting to be awoken.  And boy-o-boy was it awake now!  As I sat there absorbing the news, I had this array of emotions.  I was very proud of her, proud that I knew her, and that I was the one to have helped her.  However, I had to be honest, lurking inside me was a sense of jealously that I was almost afraid to admit to myself.  I was embarrassed with myself, but I felt like saying to her, “Without me, you would never had won this!”  Shame flooded me at the potential shame I’d cause her if I ever uttered that out loud to her!  And here she already was honoring me with her invitation! I sat with all my emotions and reactions for a few moments and then I began to realize some things.  If it were me winning the award, I would feel horrible if someone was jealous or envious of me!  That, right away seemed to douse the flame of my jealous feeling and filling that space in my heart was all the pride I felt for her.  The next thing I thought of was, how she truly deserved this honor.  Here she was, older than me, never having practiced taking photos — and later in life naturally coming into this talent right off the bat!  It really was quite amazing.  Then I realized that I had no business being envious for even a nanosecond!  I wasn’t entering contests!  This lady was!  I smiled to myself at my own ego getting in the way of this wonderful lady’s accomplishment.  And, I told myself, what a wonderful person she is that she sent this invitation and card with it to give me the recognition of being her initial teacher!  My heart overflowed then.  I can honestly say, I’d worked though my issues.  Her joy became my joy!  I attended her showing and I cannot explain how wonderful the night was.  The positive love and energy I truly had for my fellow Jew, nourished my soul like nothing I’d ever experienced before!  Pirkay Avos: “…Rabi Eliezer omer:  Y’hi ch’vod chaver’cha chaviv alecha k’shelach…“. “…Rabi Eliezer says:  Let your colleague’s honor be as dear to you as your own…“(Perek Bais, Tes Vav). The Torah commands us, “Love your fellow as yourself” (Vayikra 19:18).  But before we come to this elevated plane, we must touch upon a number of intermediate goals along the way, one of which is ceasing to harm others, just as we do not want others to harm us.  “That which is hateful to you,” states Hillel, “do not do to another; that is the entire Torah” (Shabbos 31a).  Here too Rabi Eliezer tells us to be as solicitous of another person’s sense of self as we would like

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Make a point this week to be truly joyful in someone else’s success.  Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #28 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS And Do Not Easily Grow Angry V’al T’hi Noach Lich’os Perek Bais, Mishna Tes Vav Part 2 Story:  (based on a true story) We hadn’t lived in our new community a full year yet, when the rumor that had begun about me, reached our ears.  My husband had returned from shul on Shabbos morning as I was setting the table for lunch.  “Can you take a walk with me,” he asked glancing at our children.  “We need to talk alone.” I quickly put my oldest in charge of the table, and heading out the door following my husband as he proceeded down the sidewalk, obviously upset.  He began to tell me that a friend of his told him that he had the Friday night seuda at our local storekeeper’s table and the storekeeper had asked the people at the table if anyone knew if I was becoming less religious since he had seen me in the store on Friday with clothes that he never imagined I would wear.  I was shocked!  First off, I hadn’t shopped in the kosher store in over a week and secondly, I had not changed the way I dressed at all.  I was mortified, livid, and very angry!  My husband was bordering on irate!  I knew instantly what had happened to cause this man to make his mistake, but to blatantly not check it out quietly, I felt was a horrible mistake on his part.  My sister had been in town for a few days to celebrate Chanuka with us.  My sister and I look like we could be twins, however, my sister is not religious and therefore doesn’t dress the way I do.  Now that I’d fully seen how this had all occurred – I was eager to stop the rumor mill before it got even more out of hand.  The angry part of me really wanted to storm over to this man’s house and scream and yell at him for not giving me the benefit of the doubt and coming to me first if he was so curious about my level of observance!  Perhaps he should have inquired kindly if everything was okay with me, maybe do outreach?  Or perhaps he should have gone to our Rav!  How dare he, I told my husband, ask his guests and put seeds of doubt in their minds and thereby spread lashon hora about me!  Oy, it was a mess!   All of a sudden I got very quiet and stopped walking.  I knew what I had wanted to do, but instead decided to do what I had to do.  I turned around and began heading in the direction of the storekeeper’s house.  My husband, who was equally angry if not more, began to get worried and called to me as he tried to catch up with my now hurried pace.  “Tell me what you plan to say first?  You don’t want to say or do anything rash!  Let’s think this through…” my husband tried.  “You’ll see!” was all I replied, while I calmly practiced my speech in my head.   We arrived at the storekeeper’s door and with my husband behind me, I knocked on the door, he answered and then I began in a very calm voice.  “Hi, good Shabbos!” I said very pleasantly.  “You remember me right?  I’m Shaina Schoenfeld.  I’m so sorry to interrupt your meal,” and I poked my head inside the door, glanced at his wife and the guests that were sitting around their dining room table when I said that.  Then turning to the storekeeper I continued, “But we were out walking and I wanted to stop by and thank you so much for being so kind to my sister yesterday.  Perhaps you remember her?  We look exactly alike!  Well, almost.  She is not up to mitzvah observance yet so we don’t dress the same, but other than that we could be twins!  Anyway, you were so kind to her in the store, I just wanted to thank you!  She had a good experience shopping here even though she’s not religious.  In other towns’ kosher stores she’s had issues, but here it was a good experience.  So thank you, and I wanted to wish you and your family a very Happy Chanuka and Good Shabbos!” The look on his face was priceless.  I made sure to peek around him again and wish his wife and guests a Good Shabbos as well before we left.  My husband was quite chagrined walking home.  The next day we met with our Rav.  He laughed and said there was no need for him to do any damage control of the situation.  He felt that what I did would pretty much handle it and he couldn’t have done it better himself.  I felt on top of the world.  I think that if I had done what I initially had wanted to do – scream and yell at this man, it would have made a huge messy production, and I would have felt awful later.  Instead I handled it calmly, clearly, and I can tell you now that it’s been years later, that we are friendly with both this man and his wife whereas before there’d never been more than a quick “hello” at the store.  Oh, and I guarantee that no more tales about me (or probably anyone else) get discussed at his Shabbos table.  I think that only good can come out of keeping your head and heart calm, when you want to scream and yell. “…Rabi Eliezer omer:  v’al t’hi noach lich’os…“. “…Rabi Eliezer says:  and do not easily grow angry…“(Perek Bais, Tes Vav). “Do not rush to anger,” states Shlomo HaMelech, “for the anger of fools rests in the bosom” (Koheles 7:9).  Anger is

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Make a point to be conscious of when you’re about to get mad or angry at something, and try very hard to control yourself to handle it calmly.  Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #29 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS Be As Concerned For Someone Else’s Money As You Are For Your Own Y’hi Mumone Chavair’cha Chaviv Alecha K’Shelach Perek Bais, Mishna Yud Zayin Part 1 Story:  (based on a true story) For the last five years I’ve been the set director for my daughters’ Bais Yaakov High School annual plays.  Having had extensive theater experience in secular venues, I take pride in my position working now for an orthodox venue.  The purposes for the plays are bountiful.  While they certainly help the students channel their creativity, form bonding friendships and assist them with their self esteem, they also give women and girls from our community a lovely night out — and honestly, the revenue the ticket sales bring in helps raise a nice amount of money for our school! As set director, it’s my job to help the girls design and decorate the set from scenery to props and everything in between!  I’m given a very workable budget in which to purchase whatever supplies I need.  When I first signed on to this job, I was informed that the person who held my position before me often times irresponsibly ran over her budget and it forced the school to regretfully take that overture from the ticket sales.  I was encouraged to please try and come in at budget or under.  I saw it as a wonderful challenge for myself, and so far each year I’ve been highly successful.  I guard that budget money as if it were my own personal money, that way I feel the pressure of never wanting to ever go over our budget.  I teach my students the value of recycling items from second hand stores, garage sales, their basements, attics, even garbage picking, instead of purchasing brand new items.  We also have begun to appeal to local businesses in our community, offering to advertise and promote them for free in our play bill, if they donate any items we might need.  There was even a situation once where a business had heard about our program, and they didn’t have the best of reputation in our community, but they donated to our cause and were so generous and wonderful to work with.  We have now worked with them several years in a row and happily promote them to any and all!  The sense of achievement I get from saving the school money sometimes is more of a rush than it would be had I saved my own money! Pirkay Avos: “…Rabi Yosai omer:  Y’hi mumone chavair’cha chaviv alecha k’shelach…“. “…Rabi Yosai says:  Be as concerned for someone else’s money as you are for your own…“(Perek Bais, Yud Zayin). Our Sages state that Mar Zutra once stayed at an inn where the innkeeper’s silver goblet was stolen.  A while later he saw one of his students wash his hands and wipe them dry on someone else’s garment.  Mar Zutra thought that someone who has so little regard for the property of others might well be a thief also, so he had him bound until he confessed to stealing the goblet (Bava M’tzi’a 24a). Even when we are not subject to a specific halachic obligation regarding someone else’s property, we may still be subject to a moral responsibility.  Thus, a person who wishes to go beyond the letter of the law should, when seeing someone else’s money at risk, ask himself what he would do if he himself were in that situation.  If he would set aside time and effort to extricate himself, he should do so for that person as well.  An employee must bear this principle in mind, and not misuse his employee’s resources and waste time on the job (of course, this is a halachic obligation and not just an act of piety).  He must think:  If I were the employer how would I want my own employees to act? Not only must we help others not lose money, but we must also help them succeed.  For instance, we should praise a businessman’s goods and services, and deny any defamatory rumors about his affairs. (Reproduced from Rav Lau on Pirkei Avos,with permission of the copyright holders, ArtScroll / Mesorah Publications, Ltd.) Discussion Question Options: What are some examples of ways we can morally save or protect someone else’s property or money? What are ways you can prevent “wasting time” at your place of work? Give examples of ways we can praise a businessman’s goods and services, and deny any defamatory rumors about his affairs. Stretch of the Week: Find a way to save or protect someone’s money OR promote someone’s business that you also defend them against defamatory rumors. 

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Find a way to save or protect someone’s money OR promote someone’s business that you also defend them against defamatory rumors.  Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute Lesson #30 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS If a person’s deeds outweigh his wisdom, his wisdom will endure KolShe’Ma’asav M’rubin May’Chachmaso Perek Gimmul, Mishnos Yud Bais and Chaf Bais Story:  (based on a true story) All the lines at the grocery store were at least three carts deep when I approached with my full cart, so I chose one and pulled out a sippy-cup for my baby.  While she drank, I pulled out my phone and made a couple of calls about a shiur I give once a month, and then checked in with my friend Shira who had promised to tell me a funny story.    By then, there was only one person in front of me and she was haggling over the price of something while waving a coupon.  I sighed as the cashier called the manager over and asked Shira, “Why do these things always happen to me?  I’ve got a slow cashier and the woman in front of me is making a fuss over a price.  I’m definitely going to be late to pick up Shlomo from playgroup.”  The woman turned to look at me, so I looked back to my cart and realized that I had forgotten the applesauce Shlomo eats at lunch.  Coupon-lady was still busy with the manager, so I quickly grabbed the baby and ran to get them from six aisles over. When I got back to my cart, it was pushed forward and next to the conveyor belt.   Coupon-lady was gone, and I squeezed myself and my baby past the woman behind me and started to unload my groceries.  The woman behind me drummed her fingers as I took one item at a time while still holding my baby and continuing to talk to Shira.  I finally finished up, put the baby back in the cart, and paid, telling Shira that I might actually be on time if I rushed.  I sped out the door, just barely missing a man who was heading toward the exit and receiving a death stare.  I was making a hurried beeline toward my car when I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Excuse me,” said a woman who looked familiar.  “My name is Sarah, and we once did a Mommy and Me music class together.”  I recognized her.  She was the only non-frum woman in the class, and had been excited to give her young son some time with other Jewish kids before he was old enough to start Hebrew school on Sundays.  I said hello and that it was nice to see her, but that I really had to go.  “Yes, but just one minute,” she said.  “I remember that you know a lot and you taught me a lot, so thank you.  But I was in the aisle next to you and I thought that maybe I could teach you that when you talk on the phone in a store all of the people around you can hear you, including the cashier, and the people in front of and behind you.” Wow.  I adjusted my tichel and stared down at my shoes and said, “I guess so.”   She continued, “Also, it’s nice to say hello to the cashier, and not to make people wait while you leave your cart, and not cut people off just because you’re in a rush.  I figured that someone who’s giving Torah classes would know that, but maybe that’s not in there.  I know you’re in a rush, so goodbye.”  And she was gone. I walked to my car in a daze.  Wow, and wow again.  I had messed up.  I had made a chillul HaShem.  Who knew if this woman would ever respect a frum Jew again, or even the Torah.  But then I realized that I had a more personal problem.  My behavior today was not a fluke.  Yes, I gave monthly shiurim to women in my community and had a weekly phone chavrusa as well to teach someone who was learning about Judaism.  I spent a lot of time preparing my material and had amassed a pretty big knowledge base to access for teaching.  But how often did I use it to teach myself? I knew when to ask a sha’aila if I messed up in the kitchen, and would throw something out if I needed to.  I knew how to check vegetables.  I knew when to wonder if something was allowed on Shabbos.  But it didn’t seem to occur to me to apply my knowledge of ben adam l’chavairo to respecting others in the store.  I just didn’t think about the effects of my being absorbed in my loud phone conversations and of what I said, or the effect of my rushing on others.  I wasn’t walking the walk of a frum Jew when it came to respecting others.  Yes, it would be hard to be more aware and change my behavior, but who was I if I didn’t? I resolved that I would work harder on my actions, starting with three small goals:  hang up the phone when it’s my turn for checkout, talk softly when I’m on the phone, and no running in a store.  I hoped that my focus would slowly change my need to grumble about those around me and increase my awareness of other people’s needs because I want to be that person I read to my kids about and teach my chavrusa about; the one who is a complete Jew who both learns and does. Pirkay Avos “Hu (Rabi Chanina ben Dosa) haya omer:  Kol she’ma’asav m’rubin may’chachmaso, chachmaso miskayumes…”. “He used to say say:  If a person’s deeds outweigh his wisdom, his wisdom will endure…”. (Perek Gimmul, Yud Bais). “Hu (Rabi Elazar ben Azarya) haya omer,