Dei'ah veDibur - Information & Insight

A Window into the Chareidi World

7 Nissan 5760 - April 12, 2000 | Mordecai Plaut, director Published Weekly








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Attic Cleaning
by Chani Katz, London

She had known all along that it would be difficult. Yet this spring, after pushing off the unpleasant task for many years, pragmatism had finally overrun her emotions and here she was, in the attic, rummaging through what seemed the fiber of her own being.

The Distractive Market
Y. GOLDBERG, a yeshiva student from England studying in Jerusalem, has this to offer as his debut to the writer's market.

There is no denying the incredible dexterity of the human mind. In just a matter of minutes, it can conjure up and recall in detail, scenes observed over a period of many hours, often doing so, at the most inappropriate of times...

A Lacy Apron
by Yisca Shimoni

Introducing Yisca Shimoni, who writes for Yated's Bayit Ne'eman under her real name. In this autobiographical sketch, she hides behind a pseudonym. Can't you just picture this little Yerushalmi schoolgirl with long blond `tzepelach' (braids), whose cheeky older sister manipulates her to cause a diversion in school...

Pesach Made Easy - It's the Crumbs that Count
by Tzvia Ehrlich-Klein, Jerusalem

No, this article is NOT too late. The timing is perfect. Read and you will agree.

Well, it's that time of year again. Women all over the world worrying, wondering, planning and complaining. Tension. Worries. Wishing that the preparations were already finished.

Ballad of a Salad - a Parable
by Mira Neufeld

Once upon a time, a long time ago (two years?), I chanced upon a most intriguing salad recipe in the Yated. Easy to make, its special flavor adds nice variety to any menu, so it was a natural choice for a family simcha some months ago.

"Tuvcha Yabiyu"

We continually encourage our readers to become more fluent in the Hebrew language. The Jewish world has shrunk, and Eretz Yisroel, as always, is at the hub of all Jewish activities, the focus of our lives, even for those living abroad.

Your Medical Questions Answered!
by Joseph B. Leibman, MD

I want to acknowledge that I enjoy hearing from my readers; I am very elated to hear that people are enjoying my columns. I have to especially thank my British readers who have written many times. If you live in Australia or South Africa and receive the Yated, I'd love to hear from you as well.

by Yaffa Shepsel

Reintroducing YAFFA SHEPSEL, a culinary expert by virtue of experience, tenure and seniority, a grandma a few dozen times over, bli ayin hora, none of whose children or grandchildren are undernourished. A hit-or-miss, hit-and-run cook, she works by rule of thumb-and-forefinger, that is, a pinch here, a toss there. Her recipes are not exact and must be taken with a grain of salt, or sugar, or allspice, whatever your own instinct and sense of taste tells you. She's intuition, ready to share her experiences, good or bad.

Poet's Corner
Next Year In Jerusalem...

by Menucha Levin

For fifteen years - a memory
Of one distant summer,
A map taped to the wall
Of winding streets written
With the names of our children,
A reminder to find our way Home.
But the years ate its edges,
Torn and mended till almost gone.
Fifteen Pesach promises of "Next Year."
But always there were
Valid reasons for postponement.

Till our firstborn's bar mitzva,
No more delays, we knew.
It was this year or ???
Wrapped in fear for seven weeks -
That was all -
To plan and pack and go,
A painful time,
Life-wrenching as birth.
Fourteen hours in transition,
then, Suddenly, bright sunlight,
Pain and fear gone.

On sight of our newborn life.
Yerusholayim - a map no longer.
Real as the view from our window,
Our address on an envelope,
The breath of pine-spiced air
Infused with holiness.
Real as our footsteps in the streets
Written with our children's names.
Real as sacred stone,
Warm and beautiful in the golden sunlight,
Caressed beneath my hands.


by Ruth Lewis

"I think people don't try to change," she said,
"because they're afraid of ridicule if they fall."
Well, yes, that is one hurdle -
About the sixth or seventh.
Most folks in the world are too caught up in survival,
In dodging bullets, eking out a living, getting rich,
Pursuing happiness or fun -
To give a thought to self-improvement.
(That's Hurdle One).
If they do glance within,
They generally find - because they're blind -
That everything's just fine.
(That's Hurdle Two).
If some slight fault is glimpsed, they shrug it off
With, "No one else is perfect. Why should I be?"
(That's Hurdle Three).
Besides, change would be admission
That something had been wrong before.
(That's Hurdle Four).
Then, many think change is impossible.
"People are the way they are.
People don't change, as long as they're alive.
The few that do must be super-human."
(Hurdle Five)
Then comes fear of failure, ridicule and lowered self esteem.
Also fear of success - the new demands
Success may bring them, if they fulfill their dream.
Then they think, "Why bother? What does it matter?"
Who will care?"
(That's another obstacle and a snare),
And there's the fear of losing their identity,
Not an ideal person, perhaps, but familiar, reassuringly.
Once past all those hurdles, one confronts new questions now:
What to change, how much, when and how?
Many are overwhelmed by the job's enormity.
Suddenly, they see
That everything about them is in need of changing.
Those committed to change must have patience,
Persistence, flexibility, day by day,
To meet life's hurdles that confront them
All along the way.
But as I say,
Most never get past Hurdle One.
A shame, for changing makes life meaningful.
Changing is joy, adventure, challenge-fun.
And with prayer,
We will see miracles,
We will get there.

Savta For Pesach

by Malka Adler's granddaughter - Aliza Wolman, Brooklyn

Gossip is quick and so word got around
That our dear Savta was coming to town,
We watered the garden and swept the porch,
The Statue of Liberty lit up her torch.
The children refused to get into bed,
'Till they rolled out the carpet-royal-red,
We hired ten limos and a dozen bands,
We flew in ambassadors from six foreign lands.
We passed out free candy and sold souvenirs,
Then rented a stadium and made up new cheers,
Schools were all closed and workers left jobs,
The streets were so filled with masses and mobs.
Some people got trampled and others got squooshed,
But those determined Wolmans elbowed and pushed,
Till they came to the front, which was no easy fight,
To invite their Dear Savta for Seder night.

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