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Lots, this time. One from Y. C.
Dear Yated Ne'eman,
I am writing in response to your "Dear Diary" articles. As a
baalas teshuva of twenty-some years, I would like to
share my thoughts with you.
Over the years, I have grown weary of the stereotypical
baal teshuva story which usually goes something like
this: A young wo/man goes to the Old City while touring
Israel and meets a kindly Jew who introduces him to the
delights and depths of Yiddishkeit. The young man goes to
learn in a yeshiva, much to the dismay and bewilderment of
his family in America. However, as time goes by and the
parents see what a mentsch their child has become, and
with the natural addition of a lovely wife and beautiful
Yiddishe grandchildren, the parents have no choice but to
admit that there is something to be said for a Torah way of
life, and may even adopt some mitzva for themselves.
Everyone lives happily ever after.
I can tell you from firsthand experience and from being privy
to the experiences of close friends who are also baalei
teshuva that there is far more to the story. The trials
of a b.t. are unique and lifelong. I personally feel
somewhat belittled by these "amusing little stories," no
matter how true and common they may be. The heartache of a
b.t. does not end under the chuppa, although that may
be where real joy begins as we make our commitment to begin
anew the chain of Torah, which was so tragically broken.
As the grateful and happy mother of a large family bli
ayin hora, I have often felt adrift as I cannot, in
moments of doubt, recall the way in which my parents handled
certain situations or compare the behavior of my children at
the Shabbos table to mine when I was a child. I have no
memories to draw upon in terms of my own Torah education or
mitzva-observance and my husband and I are left to
learn by asking, reading, or trial and error to a much
greater extent than our Frum From Birth contemporaries.
I am also unable to help my children very much with their
kodesh homework, although I compensate by giving as
much encouragment and praise as I can. I also don't have much
to share with my own children about my life as a bas
Yisroel, although, sadly, I have much I would rather not
speak about. Another factor to contend with is the sorrow of
watching my secular relatives go through life without any
knowledge of Hashem or what a Jew's goal is in life. When my
husband's father passed away, the mere technicalities of
sitting shiva al pi halocho, let alone getting a
minyon to the house, were nearly impossible and added
trauma and tension to an already greivous situation. The
shiva itself was a farce, as secular Jews have no idea
how to relate to life, let alone death.
In addition, there is sometimes the anguish of watching
helplessly as relatives intermarry or get divorced.
Sometimes, within my immense gratitude to Hashem, I am struck
by a kind of survivor guilt --- Why me? Why did I merit to be
plucked out of the jungle? How can I help other members of my
family when they think that I am the one who is living in a
dream world? It is often a delicate and taxing endeavor to
explain to little Chani why Bubby doesn't cover her hair or
why Uncle Joe doesn't wear a kipa or know how to wash
for bread. "Are they goyim?" the children ask in
amazement.
Becoming a b.t. also often means making aliya
and leaving family behind geographically, as well as
spiritually. Consequently, children may go for years without
even meeting their relatives, which, educationally, may be
for the better, but also can make for some lonely and less
exciting chaggim than for those who have lots of
family around. Visits to the States, while possibly providing
a welcome respite from the strenouous life of a kollel
wife and mother, are often fraught with tension and
minunderstandings as she attempts to cope skillfully with
such challenges as keeping kosher in a treife
household or explaining that her husband `learns' for a
living.
I won't even go into trying to explain to secular Jews `how'
I can have so many children (usually they are too busy
cuddling the newest baby to listen to an answer, anyway). I
have personally been through this and more, and so have many
of my friends. Each stage of life brings a new challenge to
the baal teshuva. Sending off a son to yeshiva, for
example, may be especially stressful because it is not
something our husbands or brothers did. It is totally
unfamiliar. Going away to college seems normal, but to send
away a fourteen-year-old? The same mystery can surround the
shidduchim experience, as many b.t. met their
spouses informally.
Before I end this letter, I would like to make it clear that
I am not saying any of this in a self-pitying tone. I am
immensely happy and grateful for having been shown the Torah
way of life and having been blessed with the intelligence to
seize it wholeheartedly. Just know, that having an argument
with one's father about the reality of the Torah or even what
a `kosher' restaurant means is not an amusing incident. It is
exceedingly painful to realize that the people one may love
the most are so devastatingly ignorant. In conclusion, I
would like to say that it is time for these somewhat banal
stories of the young b.t.'s return to give way to a
deeper appreciation of the lifelong trials and joys of being
one.
P.S. I have been subscribing to your paper for many years and
enjoy it very much. I find it informative, educational and
inspiring. Thank you.
Dear Y.C.
We are very glad that you took the time and effort to write
such an insightful letter, cognizant of all the pain
involved. Our series was worth it just for that. Everything
you said was true, well taken, and I am sure that our
readership is well aware of the heartache involved in the
process of, shall we say, growing up. as sensitive Jews
striving for self-betterment.
What you describe is shared not only by that segment of our
Torah population called the Baalei Teshuva. I think it
is part of the human Jewish experience, falling into the
category, in some cases, of the Generation Gap, in others,
the Immigration Gap. True, your difficulties are unique, even
if shared by many others along the same spectrum. But are we
all not in the constant process of growing up, even more so
because we are Torah Jews who yearn to improve ourselves,
morally, and to upgrade our mitzva-observance? This is
an ongoing process that must necessarily be very difficult if
we wish to succeed, rather than become lax.
How many parents, in general, are able to help their children
with schoolwork? Aren't many of us computer- ignorant? Ever
tried doing division the Israeli way, where you have to fit
your numbers under the "dividing right angle" that goes the
wrong way, if you know what I mean? And who remembers their
geometry? As for kodesh, any b.t. has enough
literature in English, especially their weekly Yated, to bone
up on Yiddishkeit and enhance their children's views.
In Rebbetzin Shain's generation ("All for the Boss"), the
conflict may have been the family unit against the secular
environment, and just keeping one's head above treacherous
waters. The Holocaust generation had its own difficulties in
staying Jewish when people were questioning where Hashem
was... My generation has had the wonderful privilege of
leaning on excellent heredity and, perhaps, taking it forward
in certain directions, but also at the price of inner
conflict, with our children becoming yet frummer than
we in certain areas and our keeping pace with them. I did not
routinely daven mincha until I saw my own daughter
doing it. And weaning myself from the public library and
secular publications and even `digests' was much, much harder
than I thought and took a few years - -- and I had thought
that this conflict was behind me when, as a child, I stopped
reading secular books on Shabbos, on my own!
Was the kollel society prevalent in our time? Didn't
many of us have to make the adjustment from a working to
learning society?
Then, again, we, too, left our families behind, though not in
the double sense as you did. When did our family ever have a
yom tov away from home? The conflict is always there,
as is the pain of adaptation that accompanies it. And the
more difficult it is, or the more difficult we consciously
make it to improve ourselves, the more alive we really are!
We choose to struggle in this world.
The story may seem stereotyped to you. We felt it very human,
realistic, and printworthy. We incorporated it, not for the
humor, but for the `human.' Perhaps as a plea for compassion
and understanding. Perhaps, having come such a long way,
boruch Hashem, we forget that important element of
tolerance, of respect for our fellow men --- who are not
frum. I think it was to provoke your thought, which we
apparently succeeded in doing.
About a year ago, I received an article written by a very
versatile woman, one of whose numerous talents is writing.
Elisheva Nadler has graced our paper with several excellent
pieces and while neither of us thought we would ever be using
her biographical sketches about her mother, who was not
frum-as-we-know-it, she was an exceptional person, G-d-
fearing, and I feel it very much in place to excerpt just a
few vignettes in this particular context. As R' Kantrowitz
points out, through the mouthpiece of his `Rosh Yeshiva,'
"the apple does not fall far from the tree," and if Hashem
provided a person with a particular set of parents, it was
for a reason. They must take some credit for his having
become a baal teshuva, I feel.
She writes:
"Many of my friends, raising families today, have been
inspired by my mother's talent as a parent. Once when I was
four, I was clambering into the back seat of our car. Instead
of a direct reprimand for getting my dusty shoes all over the
seat, my mother said in a dreamy voice, "What if a lady with
a silver dress came down and sat next to you?" This
image entranced me for weeks and certainly helped to keep the
car cleaner. [Perhaps Elisheva later translated this into her
life as "Shivisi Hashem lenegdi --- I imagine Hashem
before me, ever."]
"Although Mom worked full time and raised us basically on her
own, we always felt she was there for us. One of her
innovations when we were in grade school was `time alone.'
This was a daily event for a while. Mom would take one of us
into a bedroom, close the door and then `time alone' would
begin. `O.K. Talk! It's your time, now.' It only lasted five
minutes, but it worked wonders in reducing sibling rivalry
and making us feel loved.
"A profound moment came when I made a disparaging but
humorous remark about one of my classmates. Mom suggested,
`Never laugh at someone, only with them.' Later on, when I
learned about the Torah's perspective on this kind of
situation, I was amazed at how succinctly Mom's phrase summed
up many of the halochos of loshon horo."
I would like to remind Y.C. that we all have our Gaps, our
points of conflict, which, hopefully, move upward as we grow
older.
Thank you for your letter. We would welcome the insights and
thoughts of our other readers on this very topical topic. Our
FAX is 02-5387998.
EITZES, EITZES, EITZES
The thirty-ninth step. If there are 38 uses for baking soda,
there must be more, too. Yaffa Shepsel tells us that it is
great for speeding up cooking. Split your cooking time for
split pea soup with a scant teaspoonful of baking soda.
Need instant chick peas for a last minute sholom
zochor? Pour boiling water over them with 2 inches to
spare. Let them soak till they double their size, then check
carefully. Boil with salt and pepper and a teaspoon of baking
soda. The whole process should take less than two hours.
CAUTION: do not use pressure cooker when using baking soda,
as it foams, and this clogs up the pressure valve and can be
dangerous.
And from our reader who suggested pineapple juice for
arthritis (anyone try it?), four EITZES:
"I don't know much about Reflexology (basically, foot
massage), but I tried massaging one sole with the other for
relief for my non-rheumatic backaches and found it very
effective. Even more so if you happen to have a bunion!
"I relieve NIGHT CRAMPS by pressing my knees together and
also moving them up and down."
She relieves BACK STRAIN by lying on her stomach for a few
minutes with a roll of bathroom paper to keep stomach in ---
but only over an hour after meals. And, finally, an aid for
digestion which, she discovered, is brought in the
gemora: lying on the left side. Thank you, D.F., for
taking the time to write.
TELEGEMACH
Connecting people to each other in all areas:
shidduchim, information, chessed, work,
counseling, lost and found, furniture, volunteers and many
other fascinating areas: 08-941-2337. [And don't be thrown
off by the area code: Avrohom Ellis can `deliver' the
information to all parts of the country, He's connected!]
"Doing counseling over the phone for over 4 years has led me
to some very interesting conclusions: The words that we
choose to describe feelings and attitudes have a powerful
effect. For example: I always tell people that the world
`problem' can be easily exchanged with `challenge.'
"`Boruch Hashem - I have no PROBLEMS in life,' a word
which has connotations of desperation, impossible situations,
etc. `Rather, I have a lot of challenges' which suggests hope
and a desire to tackle the difficulties."
Also, never tell a child he is `bad.' Call him a
`tzaddik' and tell him that what he did does not befit
such a good boy.
KEEP THE TELEGEMACH NUMBER HANDY. And use it.
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