By F. Resnick

There are paintings that are not merely art, but soul. Works in which every brushstroke echoes a verse, and every layer of color carries a prayer. Such is the painting of the artist Yossi Bitton, depicting the Tomb of Rachel Imein, a work that reaches that sacred point where art ceases to be creation and becomes a language of the Jewish heart.

In just a few days, we will mark the 11th of Cheshvan, the day of Rachel Imeinu’s passin, a day when the entire Jewish people pause for a moment to look again toward the first mother of compassion, the one the navi called “Rachel weeping for her children.” Her image is woven into every prayer and every hope; she is not only a story from the past but a living presence in the soul of the nation.

“A voice is heard on high,” says the navi, “lamentation and bitter weeping; Rachel weeping for her children, she refuses to be comforted for her children, for they are no more.” And the Divine response follows with words that have carried our people through millennia: “Refrain your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears, for there is reward for your labor, says the Lord, and your children shall return to their border.”

Few verses in Scripture capture so poignantly the meeting of human pain and eternal comfort. That dialogue, between tears and promise, is the beating heart of Bitton’s painting.

In his portrayal, there is no figure and no face. Rachel herself is unseen, yet powerfully present. The tomb stands at the center of the canvas, wrapped in a soft, golden-white glow, not the light of the sun, but the light of a soul. Around it, the sky shifts between gray clouds and a pale line of blue, mirroring the tension between sorrow and consolation, between exile and redemption. A long gaze at the painting reveals not only layers of pigment, but layers of feeling. It is not a depiction of a place, it is a visual rendering of an eternal covenant.

The artist describes his process in simple words: “I stood before an old photograph of Rachel’s Tomb,” he says, “and I thought, every stone here has absorbed prayer. There is no other place on earth where every tear becomes part of the landscape. When I painted, I didn’t feel I was adding color; I felt I was uncovering what was already there.”

Indeed, Bitton’s work is not about innovation, it is about revelation. Born and raised in Tzfat, the mystical city of light and spirit, he absorbed from his youth the deep connection between creativity and faith. In the narrow alleys of the artists’ quarter he learned that color can be a vessel for the Divine. “In Tzfat,” he recalls, “I learned that art is not an imitation of reality, it is a way to touch the truth beyond it. Every painting is a form of prayer.”

That influence permeates all his works, but especially this one. Bitton’s style combines delicate realism with a sense of haze, an intentional blurring that hints that what is visible is never the whole story. Here, too, the lines of the stones are clear, yet they dissolve in light; the tomb appears solid, yet one feels it might vanish into mist. It is a dialogue between the seen and the unseen, between what the eye perceives and what the heart knows.

In this painting, Bitton captures the essence of Rachel Imeinu herself, a rare fusion of unending sorrow and quiet hope. Rachel is not buried with the Patriarchs and Matriarchs in the Cave of Machpelah but “on the road to Efrat.” She is not at home, and yet by remaining on the road she became the spiritual home of all Israel. She stands there, in the open, waiting for her children. Between Bethlehem and Jerusalem, between exile and redemption, the mother still waits and still prays.

“I wanted to convey that feeling of being on the road,” Bitton explains. “Rachel’s Tomb is not an endpoint, it’s a crossroads. It’s the place where every Jew meets himself on the way back home.” And when one looks at the painting, there is indeed a sense of motion, as if time itself is breathing. The clouds seem to move, the light shifts, the shadows fade. Every moment something changes, as within the praying soul. The viewer feels himself standing there, on that very road where countless generations poured out their hearts, and he hears within his own chest the echo of that ancient cry, the cry of mercy.

The Midrash teaches that when the Jewish people were exiled from Jerusalem, they passed by Rachel’s tomb. She rose from her grave, wept, and pleaded before God to have mercy on them. And God answered: “For your sake, Rachel, I will bring them back.” Since that moment, her image has stood forever as the symbol of prayer without despair.

Bitton, with extraordinary sensitivity, gives that image a new voice, a voice of light. In his painting, even the tears shine. The glow emerging from the stone embodies the hope of redemption, the promise that “your children shall return to their border” is not only a comfort for the past, but a reality drawing near.

Today, Yossi Bitton is recognized as one of the leading names in contemporary Jewish art. His paintings adorn homes, shuls, and galleries around the world, yet they all share one signature: faith. Each work carries an inner radiance, a quiet sanctity that can be felt more than described. He does not paint for novelty’s sake, but to preserve eternity in the heart of man. In “Rachel’s Tomb,” Bitton reaches a point of spiritual and artistic maturity. The background, unlike a classic landscape, is almost abstract. The sky breathes; the boundaries blur. There is no line dividing earth and heaven, light and shadow, weeping and consolation. The entire work is unity.

Perhaps that is why so many are drawn to it. The painting speaks a universal emotional language, yet it remains deeply rooted. It is not simply a beautiful depiction of a holy site; it is a reminder. A reminder to a people still on its journey, a reminder of tears that have not vanished, a reminder of a mother who still waits.

Every year on the 11th of Cheshvan, thousands of Jews travel to Rachel’s Tomb. Many stand there for the first time, overcome by a sense that defies explanation, as if the place itself listens. No many words are needed. A person stands, says one or two, and weeps. That weeping, not of despair but of yearning, may be the purest prayer there is. One feels the same within Bitton’s painting, the solitude, the pain, and the quiet certainty that we are not alone. Bitton defines his work with characteristic humility: “I don’t paint to show what people see,” he says. “I paint to remind them of what they’ve forgotten. We sometimes forget how close Rachel still is to us, how alive her prayer remains within us.” And he is right. Rachel Imeinu is not a figure of the past; she lives with us, weeps with us, embraces us in every prayer. Throughout the generations, from great sages to simple souls, Jews have known that Rachel is the final gate of mercy. When words fail, they go to her. When strength fades, they stand before her. And she, says the Midrash, “is answered immediately.” She understands every broken heart, every pain, every longing.

In that sense, Bitton’s painting is more than an artistic tribute; it is a visual expression of pure faith, the belief that prayers are heard, that compassion endures, and that there is one mother who will not rest until she sees the redemption of her children.

His deliberate use of a warm, almost monochromatic palette is no coincidence. There are no sharp contrasts, no shouting colors. Everything is soft, balanced, quiet, whispering that even within sorrow there is beauty, even within tears there is light. Gaze long enough, and the light seems to change: at times gold, at times mist, at times twilight. Perhaps that is the painting’s way of telling us that sorrow itself transforms, that tears too have a journey.

Many see in this painting not merely a work of art, but a mirror for reflection. It invites stillness, not only to look, but to listen. Perhaps this is why Bitton regards his art not as a profession but as a mission.

“I feel,” he says, “that I was sent to remind people, through color, of what words sometimes cannot say.”

And this year, his painting seems to speak even more directly. The stone that for generations symbolized comfort now also feels like a call, a call from a mother to her nation: Do not forget to pray. Do not forget to weep. Do not forget to believe.

Rachel Imeinu, who once wept for her children as they went into exile, weeps today for her children who have not yet come home, for those still held captive, for those who have not yet been brought to burial, for a nation still praying for complete redemption.

Between the light and the shadow, between tears and hope, the prophet’s words return once more, not only as a promise, but as a mission: “Your children shall return to their border.”

Not only the exiles of Babylon, not only the wanderers of past generations, but all the children, the living and the fallen, the near and the far, those who have returned and those still missing. All of them will come home.

Yossi Bitton’s painting, born of silence and prayer, feels this year almost prophetic. It reminds us that Rachel did not give up then, and she will not give up now. She still stands, on the ancient road, watching over her scattered children, whispering her eternal prayer:

that they return.

That we all may soon behold the day when God’s promise is fulfilled in its fullness

“Refrain your voice from weeping… for there is reward for your labor, says the Lord, and your children shall return to their border.”

To further explore Yossi bittons works visit his website at www.yossibittonart.com

The First Roller Coaster in America

On June 16, 1884, the first roller coaster in America opened at Coney Island, in Brooklyn, New York. It consisted of three wooden hills connected by curved tracks, with a top speed of six miles per hour – nothing like the thrill machines we see today!

Russian Coasters

The earliest roller coasters were large ice-covered slides made of wood.

LaMarcus Thompson

Born in Ohio, Mr. Thompson is widely known as the father of the roller coaster.

Loop-the-Loop

The Loop-the-Loop coaster opened in 1901 at Coney Island. It eventually closed because more people were willing to watch than ride.

Brooklyn Cyclone

The Cyclone, a wooden coaster that made its debut on Coney Island in 1927, is one of the country’s oldest coasters in operation today.

Inventions are the ingenious gadgets and machines that have made our lives a little more fun, interesting, and useful. Real inventions are the things that we did not think were possible yesterday, and yet, it would be difficult to live without today. From the tiny paperclip to the massive jet engine, every month we will explore the history behind our world’s most famous inventions and learn about the innovators who designed them.

This month we explore the history behind one of the most popular amusement park rides…

The ROLLER COASTER

Roller coasters are one of the most popular amusement park rides. The fascinating history of roller coasters began in Russia in the early 1800s, when a wheeled cart was designed to go down an icy track. This prototype proved quite popular, as people lined up for hours to ride on the rails – something no one had ever seen before! From there, roller coasters took off around the globe.

First American Roller Coaster

In 1884, Ohio native LaMarcus Adna Thompson patented the “Switchback Railway,” the first American roller coaster. It made its debut at Coney Island in Brooklyn, New York. The coaster was made of wood and featured a single track with sharp turns and three steep hills. It was designed to run down a hill and then use gravity to propel riders back up the other side.

“Imagine encampments spilling into residential neighborhoods, protests outside synagogues, mobs outside schools, and police ordered to do nothing. Under a Mamdani administration, it will not be a question of if these things happen. It will be a question of when.”

Linda Sadacka

From Baghdad to Aleppo, from Cairo to Beirut, from Damascus to Tripoli, Jewish communities once flourished. They created schools and synagogues, vibrant markets, and family homes. They poured everything into neighborhoods they believed would last forever. Yet time and again, when hostile leaders rose to power and law enforcement looked the other way, those communities vanished. Families were uprooted, businesses destroyed, lives shattered.

In New York, many believed it could never happen here. They said America was different, safe, permanent. Yet history warns us that it can happen anywhere. Today, with Zohran Mamdani, a self-proclaimed radical and candidate of the Democratic Socialists of America, leading in the mayoral race, those echoes are becoming frighteningly familiar.

Who Is Zohran Mamdani?

Zohran Mamdani is not a mainstream politician. He is a radical whose public record should alarm every New Yorker.

He defended the slogan “Globalize the Intifada,” a phrase embraced by extremists as a call to spread violence against Jews beyond the Middle East. Despite criticism, he attempted to sanitize the phrase, even as respected institutions condemned it as dangerous. He declined to denounce DSA’s anti-Zionist resolutions and instead doubled down, claiming he is accountable only to “the people.” He has also stated, “If you win an election, you go ahead and implement the platform, even if you do not have a majority mandate.” That is a promise to impose an ideology regardless of public consent.

He has said, “Billionaires should not exist,” adopting rhetoric that directly targets Jewish values of enterprise, ownership, and family legacy. He stood alongside Bernie Sanders at rallies against “oligarchy,” calling for rent freezes, free buses, and punitive taxes on the businesses and families that fuel New York’s economy.

Mamdani’s platform includes dismantling capitalism and abolishing landlords, which many see as a direct attack on the Jewish community that has long relied on property ownership to provide stability and continuity for families. He advocates slashing police budgets, empowering radical protest movements, and normalizing reckless policies that weaken law and order. He has spoken about creating a borderless America, a vision that would overwhelm already fragile city resources.

These are not quiet opinions. They are public declarations, proudly and unapologetically defended.

The Danger of a Mayor Mamdani

History already showed us what happens when a mayor refuses to protect his city. Under David Dinkins, New York witnessed the Crown Heights riots. For three painful days, mobs targeted Jews while police were ordered to stand down. The result was violence, destruction, and death.

Now imagine a mayor who is not merely hesitant, but ideologically committed to siding with radicals. Imagine encampments spilling into residential neighborhoods, protests outside synagogues, mobs outside schools, and police ordered to do nothing. Under a Mamdani administration, it will not be a question of if these things happen. It will be a question of when.

When that day comes, the NYPD will have no choice but to obey the mayor’s orders. That is the power of the office. That is why this election matters more than any other in recent memory.

What We Stand to Lose

Our community has invested generations of work into this city. We have built schools, synagogues, and community centers that serve tens of thousands of families. We have supported businesses that drive New York’s economy. We have turned entire neighborhoods into sanctuaries for Jewish life.

All of that is now at risk.

Families are already whispering questions at Shabbat tables and community events. What will we do if he wins? Do we leave? Do we uproot everything? The fear is real, and it is growing. People understand what is at stake: safety, security, and the very survival of our way of life in New York.

It is not just activists raising the alarm. The rabbinic leadership of our community has spoken with one voice, issuing a letter that removes any doubt about the urgency of this moment. In their words:

“Every eligible member of our community must vote. This is not about politics. It is about our sacred duty to our families, to our schools, to our yeshivot, to our synagogues, and to our way of

life. Voting is not merely a right. It is a halachic and moral responsibility. We cannot afford silence. We cannot afford apathy. This is not optional. It is a mitzvah, a communal obligation, like tefillah, like tzedakah, like educating our children.”

When every rabbi of the Syrian-Sephardic community of New York and New Jersey signs a letter like this, it is not rhetoric. It is a clarion call. They are telling us plainly: our future, and the future of our children, will be decided by what we do in this election.

A Shadow of Privilege

For someone who rails against privilege, Mamdani’s background tells another story.

His mother, filmmaker Mira Nair, has enjoyed generous Qatari patronage. Qatar’s ruling family financed her 2012 film The Reluctant Fundamentalist, supported her Maisha Film Labs, and paid for a lavish adaptation of Monsoon Wedding during the World Cup. These were not token cultural gestures. They were major investments from a regime that uses money as political leverage.

Why does this matter? Because Qatar is not a benign patron of the arts. It is the single largest financier of Hamas. It bankrolls extremist clerics, shelters terror leaders, and pours billions into propaganda networks that delegitimize Israel. When Qatar invests, it is never charity. It is strategy.

So while Mamdani preaches about justice and rails against “privilege,” his family has benefited from the largesse of a regime that enables the very terror groups murdering Jews in Israel. That contradiction is not nuance. It is a red flag.

The Awakening

And yet, thank Gd, something extraordinary is happening.

For too long, good people avoided politics. That era is ending. Schools are now telling parents: you cannot register your child unless you are registered to vote. Synagogues and community centers are requiring voter registration for participation. Even singles events are saying: no registration, no entry.

This is nothing short of historic. For the first time, our community understands that survival depends on civic engagement.

But registration is only the beginning. It is not enough to sign a form. We must vote. We must show up on Election Day and make our voices heard. Otherwise, all this newfound effort will mean nothing.

Years of Warnings

As an activist, I have been saying this for years. I have written, spoken, pleaded, and urged action. I said it when people rolled their eyes. I said it when people insisted politics would never touch us.

Now, at last, the community is mobilizing. Volunteers are registering voters outside stores, in schools, and even at social gatherings. Their work is extraordinary and deserves recognition. But it should not have taken fear to push people into action.

The past is behind us. What matters is what we do now.

A Community on the Move

The energy is real. Families are recognizing the stakes. Institutions are demanding accountability. Volunteers are carrying clipboards and voter forms because they know our survival depends on it.

Beginnings matter only if they lead to results. Registration is the first step; turnout is the test. The ballot box is where this awakening must be proven.

Politics does not reward intentions; it rewards action. The radicals know this, which is why they always show up. If we match our convictions with ballots, we will decide the future of this city. If we stay home, others will decide for us, and the outcome will be one we cannot accept.

The choice is clear, the responsibility is ours, and this time no one will be able to say they were not warned.

Albert’s email arrived at 11:47pm: “Rabbi, I said Birkat Hamapil with Kriat Shema al HaMitah, but I’m lying here wide awake. I realized I forgot to take my blood pressure medication tonight. And I need some juice with melatonin to help with my jet lag. I was told not to speak or eat after Hamapil, but if I don’t sleep well, I’ll struggle to get up for Shacharit and will feel groggy all morning.”

The Nature of Birkat Hamapil: Praise, Not Benefit

To answer Albert’s question we first need to distinguish between two categories of brachot: Birkat HaNehenin (blessings over benefits like eating or drinking) and Birkat HaShevach (blessings of praise). Hacham Ovadia Yosef, zt”l, addresses this in Yechave Da’at (Vol. 4, 21), explaining that Birkat Hamapil belongs to the Shevach category rather than the Nehenin category.

Consider the parallel: every morning we recite “Hanoten La’Sechvi Binah”- “Who has given the rooster understanding to distinguish between day and night” – even when no rooster crows nearby. These brachot belong to the category of Shevach, praising Hashem’s orchestration of natural cycles.

Since Birkat Hamapil praises Hashem for the gift of sleep rather than being dependent on the actual act of immediate sleep – unlike eating that requires immediate consumption after the bracha – the bracha of Hampil remains valid even if sleep doesn’t immediately follow. Therefore, Hacham Ovadia rules, the bracha should be recited with Shem U’Malchut – mentioning Hashem’s Name and Kingship – regardless of whether one falls asleep quickly. Hacham Ben Zion Abba Shaul, zt”l, (Ohr LeTzion 2, 15:12) concurs while acknowledging that some people have the minhag to say Hamapil without Hashem’s name.

Speaking and Drinking After Hamapil: When Interruption Is Permitted

Albert’s concern about taking medication addresses an important halachic question. The Mishna Berurah (OC 239:4) states that one should not talk or eat after saying Birkat Hamapil unless facing an emergency. However, Hacham Ovadia takes a different approach. Since Hamapil functions as Birkat HaShevach, interruptions – while not ideal – do not invalidate the bracha. Hacham Ovadia demonstrates this by permitting reciting “Asher Yatzar” after using the bathroom,

even following Birkat Hamapil (Hazon Ovadia Brachot p. 511). The bracha’s validity does not depend on immediate sleep.

This permits common situations: calming a crying child, taking medication, or addressing genuine thirst. Though Birkat Hamapil should ideally be said right before sleep, necessary actions do not invalidate the bracha.

Sleep as Divine Service

Judaism transforms even basic physical needs into opportunities for spiritual elevation. The Gemara (Berachot 63a) derives from “In all your ways, know Him” (Mishlei 3:6) that every human activity can become Divine service when approached with proper kavana, intention. The Rambam (Hilchot De’ot 3:3) writes: “A person should intend that his body be healthy and strong to serve Hashem. Even sleep – if done to rest the body in order to serve Hashem – becomes an act of Divine service.”

This principle extends into practical halacha. Those engaged in pidyon shevuyim (redeeming captives) are exempt from sleeping in a sukkah, not only during the day but even at night, since better indoor sleep provides more strength and energy for this life-saving mission (Beit Yosef O.C. 640). Since their quality of sleep is paramount to the mitzvah, their sleep itself becomes part of their mitzvah engagement.

Finding Balance in Sleep

The Mishna Berurah (O.C. 238:2) teaches that sleep has no universal requirement – it varies by individual needs. However, he cautions against oversleeping, citing the Gemara (Sanhedrin 71b): “Sleep is bad for the righteous and bad for the world,” as excessive sleep can distance one from spiritual growth.

Yet, the Taz (E.H. 25:1) offers nuance on Tehillim 127:2: “It is in vain that you rise early and stay up late… for He gives His beloved sleep.” Both those who sleep less to maximize Torah learning and those who need more sleep for focused and effective learning are equally beloved to Hashem. The determining factor is intention.

Practical Guidance

Returning to Albert’s situation, his Birkat Hamapil remains fully valid whether or not he falls asleep immediately. He may take his blood pressure medication with water, and if he needs melatonin to help with his jet lag, he may drink it without concern. His intention to rest properly for tefilla aligns perfectly with the Rambam’s teaching about sleep as Divine service.

Sleep represents more than physical restoration – it’s a Divine gift that renews us after each day’s challenges. In Albert’s case, taking necessary medication to ensure good health and quality sleep for tomorrow’s tefilla becomes spiritual preparation.

Rabbi Yehuda Finchas is a worldwide expert, lecturer and author on Medical Halacha. He heads the Torat Habayit Medical Halacha Institute. His latest book is Brain Death in Halacha and the Tower of Babel Syndrome. To contact Rabbi Finchas, email rabbi@torathabayit.com.

Pnina Souid

The Mitzvah Man shared the following story with me:

One freezing cold winter day I passed by the Mirrer Yeshiva, and I saw a young man about 24 years old standing on the sidewalk, shivering. He appeared to be looking for someone.

I asked him if he needed a ride. I realized he might be suspicious of a stranger offering a ride so I pointed to my tefillin next to me in the car, so he knew I was a religious Jew. He asked where I was going. I answered, “Where are you going?” We should all keep in mind that when doing a hesed the emphasis should be on what you can do for the other person.

The young man told me that he was going to Nostrand and Avenue Z. “That’s right where I’m headed,” I responded. It wasn’t really where I was going, but I knew if I said that he would be taking me out of my way he would not have accepted the ride.

As he thawed out in the warmth of my car, I told him about the Mitzvah Man Organization. I explained that our volunteers give rides, help people who need appliances and furniture, arrange hospital visits, and many other types of hesed. I gave him my card. I thanked him for giving me the opportunity to do a mitzvah. I added that if he ever needed anything to please give me a call.

Two Years Later

I was driving on East 10 and Avenue R, and I saw a young man on a bicycle. He was shouting. It looked like he was following me. I was a little anxious when I realized that some crazy guy was following me, but as he got closer, I realized that what he was shouting sounded like, “Mitzvah, mitzvah!”

I pulled over and the man asked me, “Aren’t you the Mitzvah Man?” I nodded yes. He said, “I recognized your car. A couple of years ago you gave me a ride home when it was freezing cold. I’m sorry I lost your card. But now I need your help again please. I am getting married in two days. We have an apartment, but it is empty. We have no beds, no table or chairs, and no appliances.”

I said, “Not to worry! Let me call my dispatcher. She keeps a database of everyone who has items to donate.”

He heard my end of the call. “I have a young man here getting married in two days and needs his apartment completely furnished, including both furniture and appliances.” “Tell him not to worry,” the dispatcher answered. “I have everything he needs to furnish the apartment including the appliances.”

I gave the dispatcher the man’s number and address. She assured me that everything would be delivered in time. I gave a sigh of relief, thinking that not only will we be able to relieve his burden but in doing so will also give him a beautiful wedding gift.

Take Home Message

The young man and I were both amazed that “by chance” we met again, just when he needed more help.

The Mitzvah Man has a message to share. When you do a mitzvah from your heart you never know where it may lead, and what other mitzvot may follow. Doing hesed in a way that will help another person is acting in the service of Hashem. We never know how Hashem works but we always want to be His partner.

Eddie M Esses and Sari J Setton

The Sephardic Community Federation (SCF) has launched one of the most ambitious voter registration drives in the history of our community. Led by Haim Dabah and Marshall Aronow, in partnership with SCF’s executive team – Ronnie Tawil, Sari Setton, Eddie Esses, Joey Saban, Joe Mansour, and Charles Chakkalo. This unprecedented initiative is already reshaping civic engagement across our community, having registered thousands of new voters with the goal of adding many thousands more before the November mayoral election.

The campaign was launched this past August at a meeting hosted by Haim Dabah at his home in Deal, NJ. Leaders from schools, synagogues, and community institutions gathered for a powerful morning of strategy and planning. Presentations by Haim Dabah Marshall Aronow, and Ronnie Tawil set the tone for the weeks ahead, followed by a lively discussion among the assembled leadership. In addition to uniting our institutions around this mission, the meeting also raised enough money to fund the campaign’s rollout.

From that moment, the SCF team – guided daily by Haim and Marshall – set in motion a wide-ranging and highly coordinated effort:

· Rabbinical Proclamation: A landmark statement, signed by the majority of our community Rabbis, declared that registering to vote is both an obligation and a mitzvah, energizing the effort with moral clarity.

· School-Based Registration: Magen David Yeshivah, under the leadership of Gladys Haddad, mandated voter registration among its parent body in order to receive class cards. The result was extraordinary: a 99 percent registration rate in just three days. Yeshivot nationwide have since reached out, seeking to replicate this model.

· Synagogue Engagement: Congregation Shaare Zion instituted a policy requiring voter registration to reserve High Holiday seats, demonstrating the alignment of our institutions behind this effort.

· Community Registration Tables: Under the leadership of Linda Ebani, along with Rebecca Harary, volunteers have been running registration drives at summer events, synagogues, and local stores across Brooklyn, engaging our community at every level.

· Door-to-Door Canvassing: Joey Saban led a professional door-to-door campaign that has registered significant numbers of voters directly at their doorsteps.

· Direct Texting Campaign: Most recently, the group launched a major texting initiative targeting unregistered voters. In just a few days, the effort has registered hundreds, and it is rapidly expanding to registering thousands.

Together, these initiatives have already registered thousands of voters in just weeks. The goal is to register many thousands more before November, ensuring that our community’s voice is heard loud and clear in this critical mayoral election, and all future elections.

This campaign is a testament to what can be achieved when vision, leadership, and unity come together. The extraordinary dedication of Haim Dabah and Marshall Aronow, combined with the tireless efforts of the SCF team, has inspired a wave of civic engagement unlike anything our community has seen before.

With the upcoming mayoral election, we are living through uncertain times that call for decisive efforts – and community leadership is stepping up to the plate. With the continued energy and unity behind this campaign, the Sephardic Community is poised to play a significant role in shaping the future of our city and state.