Miriam Malowitzky

It is in our DNA to do acts of kindness. Our forefather Avraham marked us with his love for every man. This is one of the defining traits of our existence, a calling that one man in Brooklyn takes very seriously.

This man has a heart bigger than the borough he lives in. His alias is “The Mitzvah Man.” His finger is on the heartbeat of those who are in need. The Mitzvah Man is the address to know when a hesed needs to be done.

I joined the Mitzvah Man list of volunteers over ten years ago. I was between jobs and had free time. I saw a cute ad with a superhero mouse flying to do mitzvot. It was looking for volunteers to do various kind deeds. The idea appealed to me. Maybe I can be a superhero too.

Once I joined, I began receiving texts about people’s needs. For a while my favorite activity was to deliver flowers to seniors on erev Shabbat. Part of the fun was picking up the donated flowers in the designated shop without having to pay for them! They were adorned with a decorated card of Shabbat greeting. The delighted senior accepted the colorful bouquet with appreciation and of course an abundance of blessings on my head. Really, it was my heart that swelled with joy for the opportunity to bring cheer to a lonely, homebound man or woman. The warm feeling kept me company throughout Shabbat.

I soon learned the extent of Mitzvah Man’s deeds. Hundreds of texts are sent each week. Once, I had the privilege of contributing money to help someone with groceries. It was easy to give knowing with certainty that my dollars were going directly to feed hungry mouths.

Recently, I had the chance to pay for someone to have a sukkah. As a single “older” woman, I sometimes feel removed from the preparations of the holidays. As I do not have my own home, or my own sukkah, giving in this way gave me some ownership in this beautiful mitzvah. I feel like I gained more than the recipient, cliché but the truth.

As I am friends with Mitzvah Man on Facebook, I am privy to the myriad of Hasadim done on a regular basis. During the sweltering summer months, he has helped people get working air conditioners. He has supplied coats to the homeless and boots to needy children. He networks to find jobs for special needs individuals. If there is a shiva house that needs men for a minyan, he is on it. No deed is too big or too small for the Mitzvah Man organization.

Equally heartwarming to his kindness, are his hashgacha pratit stories. One time, someone called for their needy neighbor requesting a gas top-loaded washer and dryer. Mitzvah Man didn’t know where to get something like that. The very next day, an appliance store owner called to say that he is closing his business. “Do you know anyone that can use a new gas top-loaded washer and dryer?” “I am willing to donate it.” Mitzvah Man was in disbelief. It was delivered the very next day and the woman was overjoyed.

It all started with a (not so) ordinary man who decided to devote as much time as he could to doing mitzvot. That decision has morphed into a hesed organization that spans the tri-state area and has hundreds, maybe even thousands of volunteers who wait eagerly for their phone to beep with the next hesed opportunity. If you’re wondering how you will recognize the Mitzvah Man, he is the one with the halo around his head.

Miriam Sasson

The Biggest Masquerade

Once upon a time there was a town. In that town, there was a street. And on that street, which we shall call Hidden Lane to protect the residents’ privacy, lived three Jewish families. In each of those wonderful families, Purim preparations were well under way.

We shall begin with the Dahak’s since their Purim fever had actually begun from the festival’s departure the year before. On Shushan Purim, the Dahak family actually held a meeting at their dining room table, narrowed down the possible themes to four, and cast their votes. Emojis were soooo overdone. The idea of household appliances was voted too impractical. Bunnies were “girly – ewww!” And, in the end, cereal boxes won out.

Over the next few months, Mrs. Dahak selected  materials to design her adorable cereal box costumes. She hired a graphic designer to produce customized cereal boxes to hold the mishloach manot. She did not make final plans, but, according to her calendar, Mrs. Dahak was two months ahead of schedule, so she did not panic. She booked the makeup artist to paint the children’s faces, jotted down a reminder to shop for one more pair of red and yellow sneakers, and began drafting a poem to knock everybody’s socks off. Of course, since the Dahak’s were known on the block for their annual over-the-top Purim entertainment, she arranged for a Snap, Crackle, and Pop magic show whose magicians were to arrive in a custom-designed Kellogg’s delivery truck. Why, even the photographer she’d booked would be shocked. Purim! Mrs. Dahak thought, exhilarated. Here we come!

Just two doors down lived the Levy family. About a week before Purim, Mrs. Levy whisked out her clear sectional containers from last year. Phew! She exhaled. No signs of yellowing on these containers. She drew up a list of precut veggies to buy from the farmers’ market on her way home from work. The next day, Mrs. Levy folded her arms as she admired her food gifts. “Practical. Healthy. Just what everybody wants on a sugar-filled day,” she said aloud to nobody in particular. “And with Pesach around the corner…” She trailed off, reaching for last year’s Purim seuda menu.

As far as costumes went, Mrs. Levy’s eight year old wanted to be a policeman again, her four year old, a kallah, and the baby did not need a costume. For goodness’ sake, he spat up every hour, and, at that rate, would need at least twelve costumes.

Moving a little farther down the street, one could find the Klutzman Family. Mrs. Klutzman was determined to get it right this year. Normally, she was the one fumbling around town erev Purim in heavy traffic shopping for ingredients and other Purim essentials. This year, she prepared her cookie dough and froze it early. Luckily, her kids coordinated their own costumes, so all that needed to be done was to pop the cookies into the oven and toss them into cello bags.  Mrs. Klutzman was quite proud of herself for her organization.

Now, being a seasoned space-out, Mrs. Klutzman knew it was essential to set a timer for her cookies. She set her phone alarm to ring in ten minutes and went about giving her kids baths. Forty minutes later, an alarm went off but, alas, it was not her phone’s. It was the smoke alarm. And on that erev Purim, she stood on her front steps explaining to some burly firefighters: “How was I supposed to know that my phone would decide to die just minutes after setting my alarm?” Mrs. Klutzman knew that, once again, she’d be pulling an all-nighter.

Moving a little closer to our point, the Dahak, Levy, and Klutzman families all had teenage girls, who were, coincidentally, classmates at the same high school. Each was an idealistic personality who soaked up the lessons of their teachers and mentors. They each knew that they wanted to infuse their Purim with the meaning that they learned about at school.

What is this day about, anyway? They pondered. Am I going to let the day flyby in a blur of cellophane and pastries and hullabaloo?

Big, fat, juicy “No!” was the answer. The girls gushed to their families about the value of the day, how we derive comfort from the clear, guiding Hand of Hashem who had been orchestrating the awesome events of the Purim story despite our seemingly bleak  circumstances. They knew Purim was a Black Friday of sorts for prayer, and, on Purim itself, they passed around sifrei Tehillim to encourage their families to pack in what they could of the stuff that really counts.

It was obvious, that with such strengthening of their emunah on that day, the Dahak’s, the Levy’s, and the Klutzman’s… lived happily ever after.

Avigail Menzelefsky

They say that the hardest thing to appreciate is something you’ve always had.

It’s hard to appreciate your good eyesight when you’ve always had 20/20 vision. It’s hard to fully appreciate a spouse when you’ve been married for many years.

And it’s hard to appreciate how fortunate we truly are to be Hashem’s chosen people.

It is a precious gift when Hashem opens our eyes to see how truly fortunate we are. We hope that these “wake-up calls” don’t come in the form of pain, such as an illness to appreciate our health, or the loss of a loved one to appreciate life. And so I feel very blessed to have had my eyes opened to how fortunate I am to be a Jew, at the Dirshu World Siyum at the Prudential Center.

As a woman observing this incredible event, and as someone who is not among the Dirshu women, my perspective is shaped by the emotional aspect of this exceedingly beautiful and unifying experience. I left with a feeling of “Ashrechem Yisrael – How fortunate you are, Israel” – a theme that was emphasized by many of the sages who spoke at the event. How fortunate we are to be the chosen people, to have the opportunity to sit and learn Hashem’s Torah, to spend our entire lives striving to serve Hashem in all we do.

I saw many things that night at Prudential Center that reminded me how fortunate I am to be part of such an elevated and holy group of people. When a distinguished-looking attendee approached one of the security personnel to quietly thank him for keeping us all safe, I thought “Ashrechem Yisrael.” When hundreds of women rose to join the men in the arvit prayer, I thought, “Ashrechem Yisrael .” When tens of thousands of people fell silent to soak in the words of each speaker, I thought, “Ashrechem Yisrael.” This silence is the sacred sound of the Jewish people.

Can the weekly sporting events at this arena boast a crowd that is fully enraptured by what is going on in the arena below? Can they boast absolute silence when someone gets up to address the crowd? Can they boast emotional dancing that unifies every member of the crowd, no matter their differences?

Plainly spoken, the answer is “No.”

Devils hockey games often have empty seats and disinterested viewers. No one play would ever captivate every single person sitting in that arena, simply because many of them are probably on their cell phones. And no matter how incredible a goal any team scores on the ice, fans from both teams will not be dancing together with their hearts uplifted.

At the Dirshu World Siyum, the greatness of the Jewish nation was on full display. Tens of thousands of people took buses, trains, cars and planes to celebrate a major accomplishment of Torah study. Ashrechem Yisrael. As was sung at the event, the people assembled “ke’ish ehad belev ehad – as one person with one heart.”  This is something unique to the Jewish People. No other nation can claim this lofty level of responsibility, love and connection to every member of their nation. But we, thousands of years after being exiled and dispersed throughout the world, can still say, “ke’ish ehad belev ehad.”

The traditional “Hadran” text at the siyum was recited by HaRav Reuven Feinstein, shlita, Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshiva of Staten Island, and was followed by the recitation of kaddish by HaRav Malkiel Kotler, shlita, Rosh Yeshiva of Beth Midrash Govoha. The feelings of joy in the room peaked at that moment, and poured out of very person’s heart as tens of thousands of men broke out in synchronized dancing and song. Even the women’s section of the arena was powered with an emotional charge, connecting the hearts of everyone in that room.

As we say multiple times a day in our prayers, “Ashreh ha’am shekachah lo – Fortunate is the nation that is like this!” Fortunate is the nation that the Torah is theirs. Fortunate are those who joined together with their brothers in the holy pursuit of learning Torah with accountability. Fortunate are their wives who can support such dedication to Torah, and who came out in droves to commemorate the accomplishments of their husbands.

And, as the verse concludes, “Ashreh ha’am sheHashem Elokav” – fortunate is the nation that Hashem is their Gd.

How fortunate am I to be a Jew!

Esther Birnbaum

“From where do you get your emunah [faith]? From where do you get such iron-clad bitahon [trust in Hashem]? Please tell me, I need to know!”

The answer? In a word: “From Dirshu!”

This fascinating exchange was related at the deeply inspiring Dirshu World Siyum for ladies at Newark Symphony Hall on Sunday night, 15 Shevat/February 9. Thousands of women converged on Newark, New Jersey to revel in the Torah accomplishments of their husbands, and to celebrate true simchat haTorah – joy of Torah – at a special event catering specifically to women.

It was a night to remember, a night that began with crowds of women lining an entire city street and stretching around the corner for another half-block; a night filled with hizuk (inspiration), stressing the pivotal role played by each and every woman who supports her husband’s Torah learning; a night replete with uplifting song and dance, expressing the joy felt by women over their share in Torah… Indeed, a night to remember!

The program, which offered a live feed to the main siyum which was taking place simultaneously a few blocks down, was interspersed with magnificent musical performances by world-renowned singers Mrs. Bracha Jaffe and Mrs. Malky Giniger, and an inspiring speech by Rebbetzin Sarah Meisels, daughter of the Bobover Rebbe, Rav Shlomo Halberstam, zt”l, and wife of Rav Yaakov Yisrael Meisels, shlita, the Bobover Rov and Rosh Yeshiva in Israel.

The Dirshu Answer

The background to the mysterious exchange cited at the outset is a powerful story about a mother who at first found herself unable to accept the reality of her newborn daughter’s physical disability, and a father who firmly, and with tremendous strength, declared that just as Hashem accepts and loves all of His children despite their deficiencies, they, as parents, would also accept this child with all of her deficiencies.

The unexpected climax of the story was the father’s declaration that it was Dirshu that provided him with the strength, the emunah and the bitahon to accept the test that Hashem had thrust upon them with a physically challenged child.

“Just this week, I got back my first Dirshu test with a very high mark,” he explained. “When I saw that mark, I said, ‘I got the message! You want me to use this Torah to get a high mark in life…’ When our baby was born, I realized that it was a moment when I was being tested, and I decided to show Hakadosh Baruch Hu that just like I could learn Torah and get a high mark on the test…I can also get a good mark in life, in this new test that He sent us. My yiras Shamayim [fear of Gd]] has taken on a different level since I joined Dirshu.”

This remarkable story told over at the women’s event, by Mrs. Jackie Bitton, was but one highlight of an unforgettable event filled with genuine joy and overpowering emotion.

The Woman’s Role

Rebbetzin Meisels pieced together a magnificent tapestry of hizuk, explaining with numerous stories and examples of how a woman’s very purpose in life is to infuse her husband, her home, and her family with Torah and spirituality.

“Have you ever wondered,” the Rebbetzin asked, “about the berachah that we say every morning – the berachah of ‘la’asok bedivreh Torah – to engage in words of Torah’? In what way are we ‘osek’ [‘engaged’] in Torah? In what way is a woman’s job Torah?”

She answered, “A woman’s job is to encourage our husbands and children. When they begin their day each morning, it is our job to infuse them with simcha [joy]. Yes, when your husband dashes in, grabs a few bites of supper and runs out again, wish him hatzlahah [success]! When the kids are crying, you’ve had a long day, and you want nothing more than your husband’s help…that is your helek [portion] in Torah! That is what infuses your entire family with yirat Shamayim!”

The Rebbetzin proceeded to note Gd’s instruction to Avraham to heed everything that his wife, Sarah, said. Through this instruction, the Rebbetzin explained, Gd “was infusing the woman with the power, the responsibility, to inject spirituality into our families.”

Moreover, she said, whereas Gd created all other creatures with both male and female genders right at the outset, the creation of the human being began with just the creation of Adam. Havah was created later, after Gd commanded Adam the seven “Noachide laws” charged upon all mankind. And, as opposed to Adam, who was created from the ground, Havah was created from Adam himself, from Gan Eden. The reason, the Rebbetzin explained, is because Havah was given a very special job – to infuse Gan Eden into the earth, into her family.

She then cited the Sages’ teaching that a man without a wife is a man without Torah. Even if an unmarried man learns Torah, the Rebbetzin said, “he is lacking the ‘powers’ of his wife, the spirituality, the serenity, the yirat Shamayim.”

The Value of Every Moment

It was a special moment when Mrs. Malky Giniger introduced Mrs. Shiffy Hofstedter with a magnificent song to the beautiful words, “Etz haim hi – It [Torah] is a tree of life.”  Mrs. Bitton then presented Mrs. Hofstedter with a special clock as a gift, explaining, “She is the woman behind Dirshu! She, more than anyone, has shown each and every one of us the value of every single moment!”

Another stirring moment was the remarkable pantomimed dance and song created by the world-famous Mrs. Miriam Israeli, and sung by Mrs. Malky Giniger.

Throughout the evening, Mrs. Bracha Jaffe sang a stirring potpourri of slow, haunting melodies, as well as lively, uplifting songs, each one introduced with a connection to Torah and to the Siyum HaShas. The sight of so many women joining to express gratitude to Hashem for the precious gift of a Torah life left an indelible impact upon everyone in attendance, which will remain with them for many years to come.

The Voice of Torah

Citing the Vietzner Rav, Rebbetzin Meisels told the story of a delegation of rabbis that came before Empress Marie Theresa to plead on behalf of the Jews. During the visit, one of the rabbis screamed in pain.

The Empress remonstrated, “Are you raising your voice to me??!”

The rabbi replied, “That voice is not MY voice. It is the voice of thousands of fathers, mothers and children crying out in pain through me.”

On the basis of this story, the Vietzner Rav explained that when Pharaoh’s daughter found an infant, Moshe, in a basket in the Nile River, and she heard him crying,  she said, “Miyaldeh ha’Ivrim zeh – This is from the Hebrew children,” – with the word zeh (“this”) referring to Moshe’s cries, which represented the cries of all the Jewish children who were being thrown into the Nile.

Similarly, the voice that echoed throughout Newark that night was the voice of the daily daf, the voice of thousands of pages of Gemara which the devoted wives empowered their husbands to learn… and this is the voice that will, please Gd, continue to reverberate throughout the Jewish Nation, forever.