Lessons In Emunah

Without a moment of hesitation, he jumped into the water, reached out to the listless hand, lifted up the body and brought the little girl to the shore.

An interview was overheard in which an Arab asked a Hamas commander: "What's the problem? Why aren't you hitting your targets? Don't you know how to aim?" To which he was answered: "We know how to aim very well. We are experts. But their G-d moves the missiles."

My sister and brother-in-law were among the would-be travelers, but their motivation was to visit our elderly mother, whose health had declined in virtually every respect over the prolonged period of isolation.

Always ready to be ‘dan le’kav zechus’ she pinned a note on the stroller saying I’m sure you didn’t mean to destroy my stroller – if you’d like to apologize this is my phone number… For days she waited for the phone call that never came.

I have a story to share with you - one that might change the way we look at every detail of our lives, labeling them coincidences or miracles. You be the judge!

It’s my first moment of wakefulness, and I’m chilled to the bone. Pull the covers over myself, I’m thinking, while I decide to roll over to look at the clock. It’s 5:30 a.m. and I’m exhausted. But attending morning minyan – even once – is the least I can do.

The first and only time I said I was a rabbi was also the first and only time I had a gun pointed at me. What led me to that moment was my need to stay on the Upper West Side for a Shabbos and a hospitality committee that arranged for me to stay with a man who lived in the former janitor’s apartment on the fifth floor of a synagogue.

How was I going to get to Manhattan? No cabs were going, we didn't have a car, and many people who did have cars had no gas.

I realized how lucky we were that Hashem had woken me from my sleep in time to deal with the fumes which were slowly overtaking our house.

With hope and a prayer, and the longing of a daughter to save her mother from the abyss of sadness, Laura drove straight to Minnie’s home and knocked on the door, her arms filled with unexpected packages.

Tzippy wandered around the Jerusalem mall, where she had planned to meet her daughter. She was not really in the mood for this excursion, but her daughter had insisted on it.

Seeing my distress, a very kind employee named Lori (whose last name I regretfully forgot to ask about) very compassionately offered me the use of a stroller she just “happened to have” in the back room of their office.

I thought you were a different patient when you called. I can’t fit you in today.

Dr. Schwartz had no other alternatives up his sleeve. He suggested my mother go home and think about what she wanted to do.

The challenge of coming home to a house full of little kids and being barely able to function threatened to overwhelm me.

I was on a city bus as it stopped for a young boy frantically waving his arms, fearful the bus might not stop for him on this snowy February afternoon. As the boy, wearing a thin jacket, boarded the bus, he searched his pockets for bus fare, found nothing, and told the bus driver he had left his money at home. “Could you please let me ride this bus?” he asked. “I promise to give you the money tomorrow. It’s so freezing outside, and it’s such a long walk home.” The bus driver refused, ordering the boy to leave the bus immediately.

It was an ordinary day and Dovid (name changed) was preparing to catch the late afternoon EL AL flight to Eretz Yisrael. He had yahrzeit for his father and planned his trip so he’d arrive there just in time to join his brother at the kever. He parked his car in the area that facilitated a faster trip to JFK for his flight. Little did he know that he was being observed by a team of thieves who were “working” the Diamond District that day in order to rob the merchants of their goods.

It is very exciting because the women are answering amen because it is a mitzvah, because it is agreeing with the statement that Hashem creates all our food for us...

Though my father lives in another area of Staten Island, he has been intermittently involved with this synagogue since its inception.

When I pulled up at their house, my worst fears were confirmed.

The Israeli sun was beautiful as it slowly descended in the horizon, but I could not enjoy it as I usually would have.

It is painfully difficult to start and end the hectic day seeing my daughter wander, almost lifelessly, from room to room and sibling to sibling with no desire to venture out into the scary world of society. With her bundle of strengths and weaknesses, and despite my countless pep talks, our 27-year-old daughter chooses to spend most of her time in the comfort and safety of our home. That is until recently, when terrible loneliness finally pushed her out the door.

Last night, my late uncle appeared to my sister in a dream and said that the reason our father is ill is because he didn’t sit shiva for my uncle.

I felt ill at ease in a strange way when our daughter drove off in our old Dodge Caravan to pick up my son from yeshiva. She was new at the wheel, and there was plenty of traffic to maneuver around in Lakewood on Friday afternoons. An innocent, precious neshamah in my eyes who didn’t belong on the busy roads, she wanted to help out. So when I was called later to the scene of the accident, the One Above seemed to confirm that my assessment had been totally accurate.

I’d been reading a book about back pain which said that the real cause was pent up anger. Was I angry at someone?

My son-in-law's parents live close by, so that was their first stop. But over a half-hour spent knocking with all their might yielded nothing but aching knuckles.

As night fell and Shabbat drew to a close, a minyan gathered in my sister’s home in Manchester, England.

A flash of red caught my eye, and I looked up and saw a cardinal perched on the picnic table on my deck. What a miracle, I marveled. You’re beautiful. Thanks, Hashem. And then my mind’s wheels began to roll, and it struck me that several miracle stories had come my way this week. The stories prodded me to think of and feel Hashem’s presence as a more tangible and vivid reality.

While, it’s very sad that so many people have to wait so long for their bashert, predominantly, it isn’t their fault. We try to find reasons why people aren’t married and tell them if only they tried this segulah, that event, that matchmaker, this person… they would be married.

Bentzy's heart was heavy as he thought of the implications of his tiny careless move… Hashem, he pleaded, help me figure this out!