The Story That Moved This Entire Middle School to Tears

Awesome Inspirational Story About Lost Kinderlach

Dont Worry

Lol

Thought you'd enjoy this

I want a boy who is LEARNING....

 

Learning from his mistakes....

Learning from the mistakes of others....

Learning how to give without expecting anything in return....

Learning how to forgive others for their shortcomings....

Learning how to find true אמת in a world brimming with שקר....

Learning how to take no for an answer....

Learning how to accept the will of השם when life gets stormy....

Learning how to utilize the tools השם gave him to become a better עבד השם ....

Learning how to find good in the frustrating nuances that happen throughout his day....

Learning how to grow and become A BETTER HIM.

 

I want a boy who is WORKING....

Working towards a greater goal....

Working on his מדות a little bit more each day....

Working on strengthening his relationships with his rebbeim....

Working on improving his relationships with his family and friends....

Working on deepening his connection to הקב"ה daily....

Working on giving life all he's got....

Working on thanking השם for all the little things in life....

Working on finding השגחת השם in everything that happens to him throughout his day....

Working to overcome his natural negative tendencies....

Working on bringing משיח a little bit closer every day....

Working on growing and becoming A BETTER HIM.

THIS is the person I want to marry.

 

Just learning? Only working?! Forget that idea! I want BOTH.

What a story

ShareTweet+ 1Mail

The following story, by Yonatan Danino as told to Isaac Horowitz, is reprinted from Ami Magazine. It is the incredible teshuva story of the brother-in-law of actor and musician Shuli Rand, who later worked together with him to create the movie Ushpizin. 

“Almost everyone who lives in Hollywood is an actor…Like them, I had to look for temporary employment, and I turned to a local Israeli security firm. Israel has a great reputation when it comes to security, so as a former Israeli soldier, I was qualified to serve as a bodyguard. 

“They sent me to a large estate for an interview with the owners, who were looking to hire protection. The owner of the house was Maria Shriver…Her husband was Arnold Schwarzenegger, who was a famous actor before going into politics. His family was afraid people might try to assassinate him, so he needed bodyguards and a security team….

“I had many conversations with Schwarzenegger, who was very interested in Judaism and Israel…”

“I was thrilled with my job because it afforded me the opportunity to spend time with a famous actor and to meet the biggest directors and producers in the industry. The door was open to me.

“But it was then that my pintele yid was awakened. And the one who was responsible for that, surprisingly, was my boss–Schwarzenegger himself.

“You see, I got an up-close view of a person who had everything. He once sent me to deliver a $20 million check; I don’t know anyone else who’s held a check for that much money…He was living a life of untold wealth and was unbelievably famous. You would expect such a person to be happy and satisfied, but Schwarzenegger told me many times how depressed he was. 

“His family was estranged, cold towards him…The family was miserable and Schwarzenegger was miserable. 

“I thought to myself, “Here is a person with wealth other people can only dream of, and yet he isn’t happy. What’s the point of working so hard for a career and success?”

“Until then, I had thought that fame and fortune brought happiness. But working for Schwarzenegger, I saw a person who had everything and wasn’t happy at all. He had cars, motorcycles, boats–but I was happier than he was. Slowly it dawned on me that I was wrong to chase the fool’s gold of the physical world. 

“One Friday after work, I was returning to my apartment when I saw frum Jews dressed in Shabbos clothing hurrying to shul. I found myself thinking, ‘What kind of family life does Schwarzenegger have compared to what I used to see [when I was growing up]— Shabbos with the whole family around the table, talking and singing together, a life of simplicity ans spiritual wealth?” I decided it was time for a taste of that lifestyle…

“I parked my car and followed those Jews into the shul…And that was my first step back to Yiddishkeit.”

Neshama

Here’s an amazing story that just happened.

It had been a long, tiring day of knocking on doors.

Big Lake, Alaska, is not Brooklyn, N.Y., and out of thousands of houses, just one or two are home to Jewish people. Yet Rabbi Levi Levertov and Rabbi Yisroel Treitel, participants in the vaunted Roving Rabbis program, hopefully approached the next door. Little did they know that they were about to change a life forever.

“There are two guys with yarmulkes outside,” they heard from behind the closed door.

When it was opened by a middle-aged woman, they were told in hushed tones that the house belonged to a man in the final stages of cancer who was not in the position to come to the door.

After exchanging contact information with the woman, whose name was Julia O’Malley-Keyes, they were about to leave when they suddenly found themselves in a conversation with the patient, a tall man with a neat gray goatee who was relaxing on a couch inside the house.

After he heard that they were rabbis in search of fellow Jews, the man, whose name was David O’Malley-Keyes, invited them inside.

He told them that he had lived most of his 64 years believing his family to be Christian—something he was never comfortable with. It was only recently that a sibling told him that his maternal grandmother had been Jewish, a fact that helped explain why his mother had so many Jewish friends and used Yiddishterms with her children.

Living in Alaska, far from his native of New Haven, Conn., he had tried to connect to the local Jewish community and explore his roots, but to no avail.

The visiting young men explained that they were there as part of a program that had been championed by the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—to send young rabbis and rabbinical students to Jewish communities large and small all over the globe (and that such roving rabbis had been coming to Alaska since 1970).

The young men gently helped David into tefillin and helped him recite the words of the Shema for the first time in his life.

“G d works in unbelievable ways,” he remarked. “We don’t see any Jewish people around here. You came out of the blue!” He would later recall that he felt his hair was standing on end: “There was immensely powerful energy and spirit in the room at that time.”

Then, with tears in his eyes, he said the words of Shema, clearly and confidently affirming his Jewish identity.

“David,” said Julia with wonder in her voice, “you said you wanted something to take with you to the world to come—and here you have it.”

Knowing that they would soon be leaving Alaska, Levertov and Treitel connected the couple with Rabbi Mendel Greenberg, who co-directs the Mat-Su Jewish Center-Chabad Lubavitch in nearby Wasilla with his wife, Chaya.

Despite his deteriorating health and inability to eat, David asked Julia to help him attend Shabbat dinner at the Greenberg home. Speaking before a crowd of several dozen people, he shared the events that had led to the newfound discovery of his Jewish identity and internal peace. “It’s amazing to consider that out of all the millions of homes in Alaska, they chose to knock on my door at the time I needed it most. As things got worse, I had asked G d to send me a sign—and there they were.”

Over the course of the next few weeks, he shared another Shabbat meal with the Greenbergs and put on tefillin with the rabbi, an act that he called his “spiritual gas station.”

During the course of one of their visits (which often resulted in deeply emotional conversations), the discussion turned to the afterlife. In response to his questions, the rabbi told David how important it was for the soul that the body be buried, and not cremated.

 “No problem,” said David, who was then planning to fly to Tacoma, Wash., to spend his last few weeks with his daughter. “I’ll call my daughter right now to make sure that we can make arrangements for a Jewish burial in Washington.”

As his condition had deteriorated, he had spoken with family members how he wished to live long enough to vote in this week’s presidential election. However, his focus had now shifted. “All I want to do is be able to celebrate the High Holidays as a Jew, being at one with G d,” he said.

He got his wish.

Rabbi Greenberg called his colleague in Tacoma, Washington, Rabbi Zalman Heber—who leads Chabad of Pierce County with his wife Miriam Heber—and filled him in on the situation.

Over the next few weeks, Rabbi Heber worked closely with the family to change from the planned cremation to a proper Jewish funeral.

Surrounded by new friends at Chabad of Pierce County David was called to the Torah on Rosh Hashanah. It was the first time he publically celebrated his place in the Jewish community. As the crowd broke out into joyous song, he cried and danced all at once. He also proudly held a Torah scroll during the blowing of the shofar.

With his waning strength, he returned to the synagogue for Yom Kippur, the day he so hoped to be able to celebrate for once in his life. At the conclusion of the fast, he danced arm in arm with his fellow worshippers, weeping with emotion.

“He was a very special man,” reflected Rabbi Heber, who visited David almost daily to help him pray in tefillin, a mitzvah he cherished. “He really appreciated his return to Judaism and what it meant for his soul. He soaked it all up and mastered much of Jewish thought in a matter of weeks.”

It was at his bedside that his brother also put on tefillin for the first time in his life.

By the time Sukkot arrived, he was no longer able to make it out, though gratefully grasped the lulav and etrog and said the blessings with fervor.

As Heber discussed funeral plans with David, he gently asked what message he would like him to share at his funeral. “Tell them,” said David sitting up and looking into the rabbi’s eyes, “that it is never too late to embrace your Judaism and be proud of it.” He had difficulty speaking, but managed to say forcefully: “As long as I am alive, I want to be a source for G dly light in the world. Tell my story to anyone who wants to hear it, and this will cause me to live on after my death.”

Before the rabbi left, he helped David say the Shema and Viduy confession, traditionally said at the end of a Jew’s life.

He passed away the following day, less than a week after Simchat Torah, having lived to experience the holiday season as a Jew among Jews and was interred in the Seattle Jewish cemetery.

Wow

Here’s an amazing story that just happened.

It had been a long, tiring day of knocking on doors.

Big Lake, Alaska, is not Brooklyn, N.Y., and out of thousands of houses, just one or two are home to Jewish people. Yet Rabbi Levi Levertov and Rabbi Yisroel Treitel, participants in the vaunted Roving Rabbis program, hopefully approached the next door. Little did they know that they were about to change a life forever.

“There are two guys with yarmulkes outside,” they heard from behind the closed door.

When it was opened by a middle-aged woman, they were told in hushed tones that the house belonged to a man in the final stages of cancer who was not in the position to come to the door.

After exchanging contact information with the woman, whose name was Julia O’Malley-Keyes, they were about to leave when they suddenly found themselves in a conversation with the patient, a tall man with a neat gray goatee who was relaxing on a couch inside the house.

After he heard that they were rabbis in search of fellow Jews, the man, whose name was David O’Malley-Keyes, invited them inside.

He told them that he had lived most of his 64 years believing his family to be Christian—something he was never comfortable with. It was only recently that a sibling told him that his maternal grandmother had been Jewish, a fact that helped explain why his mother had so many Jewish friends and used Yiddishterms with her children.

Living in Alaska, far from his native of New Haven, Conn., he had tried to connect to the local Jewish community and explore his roots, but to no avail.

The visiting young men explained that they were there as part of a program that had been championed by the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory—to send young rabbis and rabbinical students to Jewish communities large and small all over the globe (and that such roving rabbis had been coming to Alaska since 1970).

The young men gently helped David into tefillin and helped him recite the words of the Shema for the first time in his life.

“G d works in unbelievable ways,” he remarked. “We don’t see any Jewish people around here. You came out of the blue!” He would later recall that he felt his hair was standing on end: “There was immensely powerful energy and spirit in the room at that time.”

Then, with tears in his eyes, he said the words of Shema, clearly and confidently affirming his Jewish identity.

“David,” said Julia with wonder in her voice, “you said you wanted something to take with you to the world to come—and here you have it.”

Knowing that they would soon be leaving Alaska, Levertov and Treitel connected the couple with Rabbi Mendel Greenberg, who co-directs the Mat-Su Jewish Center-Chabad Lubavitch in nearby Wasilla with his wife, Chaya.

Despite his deteriorating health and inability to eat, David asked Julia to help him attend Shabbat dinner at the Greenberg home. Speaking before a crowd of several dozen people, he shared the events that had led to the newfound discovery of his Jewish identity and internal peace. “It’s amazing to consider that out of all the millions of homes in Alaska, they chose to knock on my door at the time I needed it most. As things got worse, I had asked G d to send me a sign—and there they were.”

Over the course of the next few weeks, he shared another Shabbat meal with the Greenbergs and put on tefillin with the rabbi, an act that he called his “spiritual gas station.”

During the course of one of their visits (which often resulted in deeply emotional conversations), the discussion turned to the afterlife. In response to his questions, the rabbi told David how important it was for the soul that the body be buried, and not cremated.

 “No problem,” said David, who was then planning to fly to Tacoma, Wash., to spend his last few weeks with his daughter. “I’ll call my daughter right now to make sure that we can make arrangements for a Jewish burial in Washington.”

As his condition had deteriorated, he had spoken with family members how he wished to live long enough to vote in this week’s presidential election. However, his focus had now shifted. “All I want to do is be able to celebrate the High Holidays as a Jew, being at one with G d,” he said.

He got his wish.

Rabbi Greenberg called his colleague in Tacoma, Washington, Rabbi Zalman Heber—who leads Chabad of Pierce County with his wife Miriam Heber—and filled him in on the situation.

Over the next few weeks, Rabbi Heber worked closely with the family to change from the planned cremation to a proper Jewish funeral.

Surrounded by new friends at Chabad of Pierce County David was called to the Torah on Rosh Hashanah. It was the first time he publically celebrated his place in the Jewish community. As the crowd broke out into joyous song, he cried and danced all at once. He also proudly held a Torah scroll during the blowing of the shofar.

With his waning strength, he returned to the synagogue for Yom Kippur, the day he so hoped to be able to celebrate for once in his life. At the conclusion of the fast, he danced arm in arm with his fellow worshippers, weeping with emotion.

“He was a very special man,” reflected Rabbi Heber, who visited David almost daily to help him pray in tefillin, a mitzvah he cherished. “He really appreciated his return to Judaism and what it meant for his soul. He soaked it all up and mastered much of Jewish thought in a matter of weeks.”

It was at his bedside that his brother also put on tefillin for the first time in his life.

By the time Sukkot arrived, he was no longer able to make it out, though gratefully grasped the lulav and etrog and said the blessings with fervor.

As Heber discussed funeral plans with David, he gently asked what message he would like him to share at his funeral. “Tell them,” said David sitting up and looking into the rabbi’s eyes, “that it is never too late to embrace your Judaism and be proud of it.” He had difficulty speaking, but managed to say forcefully: “As long as I am alive, I want to be a source for G dly light in the world. Tell my story to anyone who wants to hear it, and this will cause me to live on after my death.”

Before the rabbi left, he helped David say the Shema and Viduy confession, traditionally said at the end of a Jew’s life.

He passed away the following day, less than a week after Simchat Torah, having lived to experience the holiday season as a Jew among Jews and was interred in the Seattle Jewish cemetery.

Effort

https://www.facebook.com/kerwinrae/videos/1161683300545412/

Fence

https://www.facebook.com/ChangeYourThoughtsToday/videos/10154024666701439/

Lol

https://www.facebook.com/100000471269080/videos/1287727437919619/

Someone

Child

Kind

Challenges

Shofar

I had the privilege of meeting a holocaust surviver on Rosh Hashana in a nearby aged care facility. 

After I blew the Shofar, he related the following episode:

The Nazis Y"S stood over a group of Jews who were to be shot, they ordered them to dig their own mass grave. 

Upon completion, A brave Yid stepped forward and begged for one last wish. the SS animal had pity on the helpless Jew and granted him with it.

The Yid pronounced to all the  Jews around him that today is Rosh Hashana the day of true judgment, although we are at the brink of absolute death I have with me a Shofar, we should die with one last Mitzvah.

He then proceeded with the Brocho Lishmoa Kol Shofar and Shehecheyanu and blew 100 sounds.

In the nearby forest the Partisans were stunned to here the Shofar and followed the sound only to find a live image of the laughing SS scum standing over a group of Yiddin with their machine guns to their heads with A Yid in the centre blowing the Shofar.

With no time to waste the Partisans opened fire and killed every Nazi in sight and freeing the whole group of Jews, unfortunately wounding one.

#neverforget

Responsibility

Mothers!

One egg

End

Everybody

Tree

My Wife Doesn't Work

🌹🌹🌹🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹🌹🌹🌹❤️

 My wife doesn't work!!! 

Conversation between a husband (H) and a psychologist (P): Q: what do you do for a living Mr. Rogers? 

H: I work as an accountant in a bank. 

P: Your wife?

 H: She doesn't work. She's a housewife. Q: Who makes breakfast for your family? H: My wife, because she doesn't work 

Q: What time does your wife wake?

 H: She wakes up early because it has to be organised. She organizes the lunch for the children, ensures that they are well-dressed and combed, if they had breakfast, if they brush their teeth and take all their school supplies.

 She wakes with the baby and changes diapers and clothes. 

Breastfeeds and makes snacks as well. Q: How do your children get to school? H: My wife takes them to school, because she doesn't work. 

P: After taking their children to school, what does she do? 

H: Usually takes a while to figure something out that she can do while she is out, so she doesn't have to pack and unpack the carseat too many times, like drop off bills or to make a stop at the supermarket. Sometimes she forgets something and has to make the trip all over again, baby in tow. Once back home, she has to feed the baby lunch and breastfeed again, get the baby's diaper changed and ready for a nap, sort the kitchen and then will take care of laundry and cleaning of the house. You know, because she doesn't work

 P: In the evening, after returning home from the office, what are you doing? 

H: Rest, of course. Well, I'm tired after working all day in the bank. 

Q: What does your wife do at night? 

H: She makes dinner, serves my children and I, washes the dishes, orders once more the house, makes sure the dog is put away as well as any left over dinner. After helping children with HW she gets them prepared to sleep in pajamas and the baby is in fresh diapers, gives warm milk, verifies they brush their teeth. Once in bed she wakes frequently to continue to breastfeed and possibly change a diaper if needed while we rest. Because she doesn't have to get up for work. -This is the daily routine of many women all over the world, it starts in the morning and continues until the wee hours of the night... This is called "doesn't work"?! Being a housewife has no diplomas, but has a key role in family life! Enjoy and appreciate your wife, mother, grandma, aunt, sister, daughter... Because their sacrifice is priceless. Somebody asked her... You are a woman who works or is it just "housewife"?? She replied: I work as a wife of the home, 24 hours a day.. I am a mother, I am a woman, I am a daughter, I'm the alarm clock, I'm the cook, I'm the maid, I am the master, I'm the bartender, I'm the babysitter, I'm a nurse, I am a manual worker, I'm a security officer, I'm the advisor, I am the comforter, I don't have a vacation, I don't have a licence for disease. I don't have a day off I work day and night, I'm on duty all the time, I do not receive salary and... Even so, I often hear the phrase: " but what do you do all day?" Dedicated to all the women who give their lives for the welfare of their families The woman is like salt: Her presence is not remembered, but its absence makes everything left without flavor. Share with all the beautiful ladies of your life.

Only You

Downsizing! What An Experience!

Someone once asked

How do you know who's a friend?

How do you make a friend?

....The answer

❤️BE THERE FOR THEM

IN TIMES OF JOY😄 OR SORROW😥

One kind word! One small act! What a difference it could make

I was inspired to write this short article expressing my emotions and feelings as I move once again and witness something special!

Title:  ZERO Kids at Home 😥

💐 Small Acts of Chesed that cheered me up!




❤️ You have no idea the impact that 3 small acts of kindness had made on me this week!(yesterday)

If you haven't noticed by now,(with all my ads on Craig's list... selling and giving away household stuff),I will actually be living between 2 dwellings this weekend.

You see my daughter Shevy is Bh getting married next week in San Fransisco💍🍾🎶

I am leaving overseas Monday morning IH with hubby and 2 kids.

Try to imagine the joy when I received a phone call from the real estate this Tuesday telling me our application is now accepted (to move again!) into another premises we had applied for (only a few blocks away from our present home, just half the price and size😄) 

You see 2 other times our applications were declined, because after research into who we are, they found out we have kh 14 kids, and there was no way they will have 14 kids in a 2 bedroom apt!

Go explain 10 of the 14 are married k"h and live overseas.

(Sometimes just a tiny bit of minor details is lost along the way of these important, major investigations!)

You can imagine our joy, when finally, since on this application THIS TIME  I had written ZERO for the amount of kids living with me, and I got the acceptance email less then 24 hours later!

             ZERO kids did it!

OMG. Is this for real?

I am going to have ZERO kids living with me now?

Is that my new found life?

Is this the end of all my 40 years of hard labor (14 real labours!) and the 'who ha' of raising kids, feeling like there's no tomorrow, the laughter the birthday parties, the beat the clock to make it to school on time.....and not to mention the big Shabbos table, my dream, the excitement, the love, the fight-solving, the late night talks, the constant buzz of activity, the constant family meetings/job duties, then the first child's farewell party to YESHIVA overseas excitement! And the rest of the kids  to follow overseas slowly  becoming a routine.....😥 sad and happy 😄. Very Mixed emotions indeed.

As the movers are taking away my precious household stuff (cuz that's all it is, is stuff. A collection of stuff accumulated the first 20 years of married life, and then trying to get rid of it the second 20 years!!!)

As they hold up each piece and ask for instruction, 

"mam, is this going with you?" 

I look at my husband for the 'nod' and say "whatever he says" because my heart doesn't allow me to utter the word NO.

I cannot say No to all the 1000s of Vhs family and kids videos accumulated over the 20 years, nor the old dusty super 8 projector (it's still outside waiting for another nostalgic  oldie, like me, to dust it off and take give it a home)

My husband reminds me...."Toby at the end we cannot even take a pair of socks with us..."

"When's the last time we used it or looked at it?"

They say if you haven't touched it or seen it for 6 months out it goes!!

Does anyone else sympathise with me? Hello!

I ask "but what about the stunning family photos on wood that we ran to pixie photos in Kmart for, at 6 pm (only time available) with crying babies and hungry kids, for 99cents a family shoot! (and they always talked us into getting the whole package deal....remember?)

I can't throw those away, you kidding me?

The emotions and memories running down my spine giving me absolute chills!

I almost felt a tiny bit of the emotional selection process, (please forgive me,)when they said "you go to the right and you to the left (to die)"

I couldn't part with the stuff!

It was more then stuff

It is to me, selecting life and death in a way.

My kids' accumulated school stuff they couldn't throw away all these years! Saved for "one day".

When is the "one day" supposed to be? 

Now? When their 60 year old parents move to a 2 bedroom flat with absolutely no room for a kitchen stool? 

Where, ally the 40 dishes that witnessed happy Shabbos and yomtov tables, were now distributed for free pick up because we are only 2 of us? 

Just try and feel the emotional turmoil of someone picking up our dear 21' Shabbos table, a table that once seated 40 people laughing and listening to the most inspirational dvar torahs from my husband, a table that took talent to set every Shabbos since we had such creative souls, experimenting different styles of expressing their inner creative self by the way they set the table!

A table that witnessed laughter and tears from every sort of human being, possible due to the variety of Shabbos guests we were honoured to have each week with us.

Watching that table go with all the memories attached to it, was more then heartbreaking, yet blended with a sense of satisfaction and completion. The feeling of completing a task, a mission accomplished. Mabe like completing a piece of art that took toil sweat and even tears, and then you sell it. The mixture of emotions. The deposits the withdrawals. 

It is a huge roller coaster of feelings that I have never experienced before.

I had never been asked to complete a form that required me to write ZER0 kids, either.

Wow

So, there I am going through this emotional washing machine, dryer and cleaners!, 

When a woman from our community pops over with hot soup that literally warmed my very thirsty mouth and heart, and a kind word saying, "oh it's nothing I should've brought you a whole meal"

She caught me between both houses since I MUST MOVE before the weekend (which is now!) since we're going oseas Monday and I accepted this lease just yesterday.

48 hours later (and 6 high energy Israeli backpackers!) my new place is already set up waiting for us all rest, to return from our daughters wedding trip. 

In our old home now, almost bed less, fridge less, and chair less, not to mention table less, and hot food less we are coping till Monday and will make it with your small acts of kindness! And my wonderful husband that can say yes or no without strings attached to enable us to move onto the future and let go of the past......(which is nearly impossible for me at least!)

Another woman texted me and said "anything you need I'll be there for you in a blink" 

Another woman said "come over,  I have 50 boxes you can use I'll even help you bring them with my van after 5!) These 3 acts of Chesed really made my ride so much smoother you will never know the huge impression it made on me. 

Melbourne community, you are awesome!

My husband has to keep reminding me, 

We are future oriented, look ahead not behind. 

We will be living in the future not the past.

Remember, we can't even take a pair of socks with us later......





































The 4 D's

Elul: The 4 D's of Lasting Change

How to keep your resolutions and truly grow.

by Rabbi Eliyahu Heller

David, a friend of mine, shared with me something that changed my life. He and his wife were frequently fighting and couldn't find a way out of their negative pattern of behavior. He told me that last year, as Rosh Hashanah was approaching, he decided to make a resolution that on every Friday for the next year he would write a little note thanking his wife for some of the things she had done for him over the past week. He would then stick it under her pillow where she would find it on Friday night.

Before he committed to doing this, he mentioned the idea to his wife. She thought it was such a good idea and decided to take on this project as well.

He told me that this little gesture made a great impact on their relationship, not just on Friday and Shabbat, but throughout the week as well.

He also told me that this was the first resolution in his life that he actually kept for the whole year. The secret to his success: it was the first resolution he did not make alone. He partnered with his wife.

David's experience was eye-opening to me and illustrated the first and perhaps most important tool of what I call The Four D's of Lasting Change

1. Don't Do It Alone

One of the cornerstone principles of the 12-step program, which has helped millions worldwide recover from the darkest addictions, is that as humans we cannot go through life alone. We must draw on the help and support from others in order to succeed.

Involve a friend or a mentor with your resolution. Too many resolutions have fallen by the wayside because we didn’t have anyone to encourage us and keep us strong. When the going gets rough and we feel like giving up it is absolutely essential to have a shoulder to lean on.

Better yet, partner with a friend in taking on a growth project together and become accountable to each other. Accountability coupled with a sense of not wanting to let our partner down is a potent force that will give us a much better shot at staying with our resolutions.

2. Don't Take on Too Much

Too often we become inspired to change and resolve to make big improvements in our life. The problem is that even though our souls desire to grow, our bodies resist big change. Our bodies only adapt to small changes, one step at a time. So whatever you resolve to do, cut it in half. Real incremental growth is better than big aspirations that remain unactualized.

3. Daven – Pray

Even the most grand ambitions will fail without God's help. Pray to Him and ask for clarity on what you should be working on and that He give you the focus and wisdom to properly devise a successful course of action to go about that change. Turn to Him for success in your endeavors and you will have an infinitely better chance of achieving that success.

4. Don't Fear Failure

We need to stop fearing failure. Failure is an integral and unavoidable part of growth. Just as an infant falls all the time when learning to walk, we too will never grow out of failing and falling when we strive to attain a goal. We need to utilize our failures to learn new things about ourselves and then we need to get back up and try again.

The only way we can escape failure (and criticism) is by doing nothing and saying nothing.

We need to learn to chew on the fat of failure or we will remain small and unfulfilled.

This year as we enter into the Hebrew month of Elul, the month of preparation before Rosh Hashanah, let’s be smart about rekindling our inner will and resolve to change.

Find a growth partner, cut your resolution in half, pray, and be fearless about failure. You will have an Elul that will inspire you and lead you into a year filled with enduring growth.

Mothers

   MOTHERS

 Real Mothers don't eat quiche;
 They don't have time to make it.

Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils 
Are probably in the sandbox.

 Real Mothers often have sticky floors, 
 Filthy ovens and happy kids.

 Real Mothers know that dried play dough 
 Doesn't come out of carpets.

 Real Mothers don't want to know what 
 The vacuum just sucked up...

 Real Mothers sometimes ask 'Why me?' 
 And get their answer when a little
 Voice says, 'Because I love you best.'

 Real Mothers know that a child's growth 
 Is not measured by height or years or grade... 
 It is marked by the progression of Mommy to Mom to Mother.......

 The Images of Mother

 4 YEARS OF AGE - My Mommy can do anything!

 8 YEARS OF AGE - My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!

 12 YEARS OF AGE - My Mother doesn’t know everything!  

 14 YEARS OF AGE - My Mother? She wouldn’t have a clue.  
   
 16 YEARS OF AGE - Mother? She's so five minutes ago.

 18 YEARS OF AGE - That old woman? She's way out of date!

 25 YEARS OF AGE - Well, she might know a little bit about it!

 35 YEARS OF AGE - Before we decide, let's get Mom's opinion.

 45 YEARS OF AGE - Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?

 65 YEARS OF AGE - Wish I could talk it over with Mom...

 The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure she carries, or the way she combs her hair.

 The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, 
 Because that is the doorway to her heart, 
 The place where love resides. 
 The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, 
 But true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. 
 It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she
 Shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!

You Never Know

Where Did It Go?

Where Did It Go??????

( shared by Toby Lieder)

It was as if time had no hands on the clock and the time had stood still. 

I looked through the window and saw the sIt was as if time had no hands on the clock and the time had stood still. 

I looked through the window and saw the same old street, with the same tree and the same crack in the sidewalk, that stood there what seemed like, forever. 

On the outside, it was all the same, but inside my humble home, time didn't stop there!

Every time I turned around it was someone else's birthday!

Another year has gone by?

How did that happen?

I thought it was a night like any other night. 

I was folding the laundry, listening to my daughter sing her heart out in the shower. Then my throat tightened and I felt panic set in. When did I last wash her hair?

I ran to the bathroom and opened the door so I could yell inside, 'Chayala' do you need any help washing your hair?'

Her reply brought tears to my eyes, 'No, Mommy, I’m fine.'

I’ve always tried my best to appreciate every day with my 14 children. That has been my motto I’ve lived with in parenting ever since I had my first child:

Make sure they remember the joy of yesterday, experience the joy of today, and anticipate the joy of tomorrow.

I just didn’t know tomorrow would come so soon.

I’m a firm believer in kids playing hard and getting dirty. And my two oldest daughters and son, sure did that. Every day, they were out in the Aussie sunshine–climbing, digging, swinging, and getting very, very dirty. Children have to get dirty. It’s a universal law. And I’m not about to tamper with universal law.

But with dirt, comes baths. I remember when my two oldest daughters, Chayala and Shterny, would take baths together. I would wash their hair, then let them play in the bathtub for awhile. It was our routine. Then they got older. Baths turned into showers, but I was still there to come in and help them wash their hair. Then the hair washing turned into just helping them rinse out the shampoo. Then the rinsing turned into the occasional, “let’s go back in the shower and I’ll help you rinse that one spot on top of your head.”

Then came, “No, Ma, I’m fine.”

Here’s the deal with motherhood: It’s our job to raise independent kids; but no one tells you how to handle it when it really happens.

That night, it happened.

I thought back–When was the last time? 

When was the last moment I rinsed the shampoo out of her hair? Why didn’t I know it was the last time? If I would have known, I would have done a better job, or made it last longer, or kissed her head, or something. 

I would have done something!

I couldn’t see the laundry anymore because the tears blurred my vision. But I kept folding. Folding and praying. 'Hashem, help me remember how quickly this is going by. Help me appreciate every single day–even the hard ones. Show me the beauty in each moment–even the bad ones.'

The cure isn’t to slow down. That’s impossible. The cure is a heart of wisdom. The wisdom to know that broken dishes, stained clothes, lost pieces of puzzles, and spilled food are never reasons to lose your temper. The wisdom to know that school assignments can always be done later, after the sun sets and the mud puddles have all dried up. The wisdom to know that every moment is a sacred moment–changing diapers, snuggling on the sofa, swinging at the park, even washing hair. They’re all sacred, if you can just slow down enough to notice it.

There will be a last fort with chairs and blankets. There will be a last story and shema, before bed. There will be a last outfit put on a doll. There will be a last swing at the park. We don’t need to know when the last one will be. We just need the heart of wisdom to appreciate each one.

I took a little longer brushing her hair tonight. And I lingered as I put her hair into a single braid down her back. When I kissed her goodnight, it lasted a couple more seconds than usual. Because after 14 children and years of thinking I had all the time in the world, I realized something. life will run off with you if you let it. Sometimes, you just have to stop and breathe it in.

Thank you, Hashem, for braids before bedtime. Thank you for messy kitchens and legos on the floor. 

Thank you for loud music that can't compete with my yelling,

Thank you for the mess left after a birthday celebration.

Thank you Hashem for last minute rush before Shabbos and all the yelling orders to get to the candles on time!

Thank you Hashem for the guests that left a huge mess and all the kids friends that went back home and left the house that looked like a tornado hit it!

Thank you for noisy dinner times and late-night conversations, for forts, baby dolls, lost school shoes, late night kids homework assignments, being late for doctor appointments,finger-paint in the walls, and bedtime stories. Thank you for broken wrists and shampoo for brunettes. 

Thank you Hashem for the 15 seater minivan that provided us with memorable vacations, weekly trips to the supermarket, and fun Sunday outings!

Thank you Hashem, for a husband that falls asleep at Sunday picnics, because at least I have a husband!

Thank you Hashem for all the headaches and school pickups when kids are sick, because I thank Hashem I have kids to pick up!

Thank you Hashem for my back hurting from shlepping kids back to their beds each night, because    

It means I was shlepping diamonds on my back!

Thank you for teaching me to number and appreciate my days. And, Hashem, when I forget, please give me a nudge and number them for me."ame old street, with the same tree and the same crack in the sidewalk, that stood there what seemed like, forever. 

On the outside, it was all the same, but inside my humble home, time didn't stop there!

Every time I turned around it was someone else's birthday!

Another year has gone by?

How did that happen?

I thought it was a night like any other night. 

I was folding the laundry, listening to my daughter sing her heart out in the shower. Then my throat tightened and I felt panic set in. When did I last wash her hair?

I ran to the bathroom and opened the door so I could yell inside, 'Chayala' do you need any help washing your hair?'

Her reply brought tears to my eyes, 'No, Mommy, I’m fine.'

I’ve always tried my best to appreciate every day with my 14 children. That has been my motto I’ve lived with in parenting ever since I had my first child:

Make sure they remember the joy of yesterday, experience the joy of today, and anticipate the joy of tomorrow.

I just didn’t know tomorrow would come so soon.

I’m a firm believer in kids playing hard and getting dirty. And my two oldest daughters and son, sure did that. Every day, they were out in the Aussie sunshine–climbing, digging, swinging, and getting very, very dirty. Children have to get dirty. It’s a universal law. And I’m not about to tamper with universal law.

But with dirt, comes baths. I remember when my two oldest daughters, Chayala and Shterny, would take baths together. I would wash their hair, then let them play in the bathtub for awhile. It was our routine. Then they got older. Baths turned into showers, but I was still there to come in and help them wash their hair. Then the hair washing turned into just helping them rinse out the shampoo. Then the rinsing turned into the occasional, “let’s go back in the shower and I’ll help you rinse that one spot on top of your head.”

Then came, “No, Ma, I’m fine.”

Here’s the deal with motherhood: It’s our job to raise independent kids; but no one tells you how to handle it when it really happens.

That night, it happened.

I thought back–When was the last time? 

When was the last moment I rinsed the shampoo out of her hair? Why didn’t I know it was the last time? If I would have known, I would have done a better job, or made it last longer, or kissed her head, or something. 

I would have done something!

I couldn’t see the laundry anymore because the tears blurred my vision. But I kept folding. Folding and praying. 'Hashem, help me remember how quickly this is going by. Help me appreciate every single day–even the hard ones. Show me the beauty in each moment–even the bad ones.'

The cure isn’t to slow down. That’s impossible. The cure is a heart of wisdom. The wisdom to know that broken dishes, stained clothes, lost pieces of puzzles, and spilled food are never reasons to lose your temper. The wisdom to know that school assignments can always be done later, after the sun sets and the mud puddles have all dried up. The wisdom to know that every moment is a sacred moment–changing diapers, snuggling on the sofa, swinging at the park, even washing hair. They’re all sacred, if you can just slow down enough to notice it.

There will be a last fort with chairs and blankets. There will be a last story and shema, before bed. There will be a last outfit put on a doll. There will be a last swing at the park. We don’t need to know when the last one will be. We just need the heart of wisdom to appreciate each one.

I took a little longer brushing her hair tonight. And I lingered as I put her hair into a single braid down her back. When I kissed her goodnight, it lasted a couple more seconds than usual. Because after 14 children and years of thinking I had all the time in the world, I realized something. life will run off with you if you let it. Sometimes, you just have to stop and breathe it in.

Thank you, Hashem, for braids before bedtime. Thank you for messy kitchens and legos on the floor. 

Thank you for loud music that can't compete with my yelling,

Thank you for the mess left after a birthday celebration.

Thank you Hashem for last minute rush before Shabbos and all the yelling orders to get to the candles on time!

Thank you Hashem for the guests that left a huge mess and all the kids friends that went back home and left the house that looked like a tornado hit it!

Thank you for noisy dinner times and late-night conversations, for forts, baby dolls, lost school shoes, late night kids homework assignments, being late for doctor appointments,finger-paint in the walls, and bedtime stories. Thank you for broken wrists and shampoo for brunettes. 

Thank you Hashem for the 15 seater minivan that provided us with memorable vacations, weekly trips to the supermarket, and fun Sunday outings!

Thank you Hashem, for a husband that falls asleep at Sunday picnics, because at least I have a husband!

Thank you Hashem for all the headaches and school pickups when kids are sick, because I thank Hashem I have kids to pick up!

Thank you Hashem for my back hurting from shlepping kids back to their beds each night, because    

It means I was shlepping diamonds on my back!

Thank you for teaching me to number and appreciate my days. And, Hashem, when I forget, please give me a nudge and number them for me."

Touching warm story

http://youtu.be/N1g8JlG3aRQ 🌹Great moving story. Jewish people are one family. Brings you to tears!

Solution

Future

Siblings

Cute

Not The End

Lol

Every Opportunity

Every Opportunity

Gender differences

Miracles in gaza

Miracles In Gaza http://www.israelvideonetwork.com/miracles-in-gaza/

Through Their Eyes - Children of the Holocaust

Am Yisrael Chai

Smile

Less /More

My Promise

Wow! True Love

This one is real tears!!!

https://www.facebook.com/omeletocom/videos/10154367876594494/

Dad cant stop laughing at kids covered in paint

What A Story!!! Must Read

http://m.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/2270936/jewish/Helen-Thomas-Told-Me-to-Go-Home.htm/sc/wa_share

A Gift From Above A Musical Tribute to Chana Raskin Wolvovsky

Listen

Talk

Questions

Time

Never Give Up The Child In You

Healthy Mind

Humor

Friends

Now

We Are Never "Ready"

Be

Maturity

Yiddish in Williamsburg

You Can

Hello Goodbye

Forgive

Little Things

Mothers Love

14 kids No Theories

Beauty

Count Your Blessings

Hashem

Kind: Better Then Right

The Feathers

In a small town somewhere in Eastern Europe lived a nice man with a nasty problem: he talked too much about other people. He could not help himself. Whenever he heard a story about somebody he knew, and sometimes about somebody he did not know, he just had to tell it to his friends. Since he was in business, he heard quite a lot of rumors and stories. He loved the attention he got, and was delighted when they laughed because of the way he told his “anecdotes,” which he sometimes embellished with little details he invented to make them funnier and juicier. Other than that, he was really a pleasant, goodhearted man.

He kind of knew it was wrong, but . . . it was too tempting, and in any case, most of what he told had really happened, didn’t it? Many of his stories were just innocent and entertaining, weren’t they? 

One day he found out something really weird (but true) about another businessman in town. Of course he felt compelled to share what he knew with his colleagues, who told it to their friends, who told it to people they knew, who told it to their wives, who spoke with their friends and their neighbors. It went around town, till the unhappy businessman who was the main character in the story heard it. He ran to the rabbi of the town, and wailed and complained that he was ruined! Nobody would like to deal with him after this. His good name and his reputation were gone with the wind.

Now this rabbi knew his customers, so to speak, and he decided to summon the man who loved to tell stories. If he was not the one who started them, he might at least know who did. 

When the nice man with the nasty problem heard from the rabbi how devastated his colleague was, he felt truly sorry. He honestly had not considered it such a big deal to tell this story, because it was true; the rabbi could check it out if he wanted. The rabbi sighed.

“True, not true, that really makes no difference! You just cannot tell stories about people. This is all lashon hara, slander, and it’s like murder—you kill a person’s reputation.” He said a lot more, and the man who started the rumor now felt really bad and sorry. “What can I do to make it undone?” he sobbed. “I will do anything you say!”

The rabbi looked at him. “Do you have any feather pillows in your house?” “Rabbi, I am not poor; I have a whole bunch of them. But what do you want me to do, sell them?”

“No, just bring me one.”

The man was mystified, but he returned a bit later to the rabbi’s study with a nice fluffy pillow under his arm. The rabbi opened the window and handed him a knife. “Cut it open!”

“But Rabbi, here in your study? It will make a mess!”

“Do as I say!”

And the man cut the pillow. A cloud of feathers came out. They landed on the chairs and on the bookcase, on the clock, on the cat which jumped after them. They floated over the table and into the teacups, on the rabbi and on the man with the knife, and a lot of them flew out of the window in a big swirling, whirling trail. 

The rabbi waited ten minutes. Then he ordered the man: “Now bring me back all the feathers, and stuff them back in your pillow. All of them, mind you. Not one may be missing!”

The man stared at the rabbi in disbelief. “That is impossible, Rabbi. The ones here is the room I might get, most of them, but the ones that flew out of the window are gone. Rabbi, I can’t do that, you know it!”

“Yes,” said the rabbi and nodded gravely, “that is how it is: once a rumor, a gossipy story, a ‘secret,’ leaves your mouth, you do not know where it ends up. It flies on the wings of the wind, and you can never get it back!”

He ordered the man to deeply apologize to the person about whom he had spread the rumor; that is difficult and painful, but it was the least he could do. He ordered him to apologize to the people to whom he had told the story, making them accomplices in the nasty lashon hara game, and he ordered him to diligently study the laws concerning lashon hara every day for a year, and then come back to him. 

That is what the man did. And not only did he study about lashon hara, he talked about the importance of guarding your tongue to all his friends and colleagues. And in the end he became a nice man who overcame a nasty problem.

BY SHOSHANNAH BROMBACHER

2 apples lesson

"Today in one of our classes I introduced the children to two apples (the children didn't know this, but before the class I had repeatedly dropped one of the apples on the floor, you couldn't tell, both apples looked perfect). We talked about the apples and the children described how both apples looked the same; both were red, were of similar size and looked juicy enough to eat.

I picked up the apple I'd dropped on the floor and started to tell the children how I disliked this apple, that I thought it was disgusting, it was a horrible colour and the stem was just too short. I told them that because I didn't like it, I didn't want them to like it either, so they should call it names too. 

Some children looked at me like I was insane, but we passed the apple around the circle calling it names, 'you're a smelly apple', 'I don't even know why you exist', 'you've probably got worms inside you' etc.

We really pulled this poor apple apart. I actually started to feel sorry for the little guy.

We then passed another apple around and started to say kind words to it, 'You're a lovely apple', 'Your skin is beautiful', 'What a beautiful colour you are' etc.

I then held up both apples, and again, we talked about the similarities and differences, there was no change, both apples still looked the same.

I then cut the apples open. The apple we'd been kind to was clear, fresh and juicy inside.

The apple we'd said unkind words to was bruised and all mushy inside.

I think there was a lightbulb moment for the children immediately. They really got it, what we saw inside that apple, the bruises, the mush and the broken bits is what is happening inside every one of us when someone mistreats us with their words or actions. 

When people are bullied, especially children, they feel horrible inside and sometimes don't show or tell others how they are feeling. If we hadn't have cut that apple open, we would never have known how much pain we had caused it.

I shared my own experience of suffering someone's unkind words last week. On the outside I looked OK, I was still smiling. But, on the inside someone had caused me a lot of pain with their words and I was hurting.

Unlike an apple, we have the ability to stop this from happening. We can teach children that it's not ok to say unkind things to each other and discuss how it makes others feel. We can teach our children to stand up for each other and to stop any form of bullying, just as one little girl did today when she refused to say unkind words to the apple. 

More and more hurt and damage happens inside if nobody does anything to stop the bullying. Let's create a generation of kind, caring children.

The tongue has no bones, but is strong enough to break a heart. So be careful with your words."

#LoveWhatMatters

Credit: Relax Kids Tamworth