Cream cheese, lox on a bagel – with chopped sweet onion and capers

Grilled cheese with tomato slices

Salmon salad (sockeye only)

Tuna salad (white albacore only)

Chopped egg salad

Burgers, burgers, burgers, burgers – with onions, lettuce, tomato, pickles, mayo, mustard,relish and ketchup

The Gabbai

The gabbai’s eyes moved rapidly across the familiar faces of the men packed into shul on this sunny Shabbas morning.

Shloime Kaufman, the gabbai, had been going through this routine for the past 20 years, looking out over the congregation and at his many friends and neighbours, a world of warm-hearted people with whom he shared his life. Choosing a few each week for aliyas was a job that came with its difficulties, but it also gave him the weekly opportunity to count these blessings. This secure, contented world in which he found himself was all the more precious because, by any law of logic or probability, it should never have come into existence.

And yet, here he was, the grandfather of a beautiful, Torah-observant family, the gabbai of a thriving shul, surrounded by friends and family. Better to relish the miracle of the present than think too much about the searing pain of the past.

Kaufman scanned the rows of men as the Torah was removed from the ark. His eyes rested upon an unfamiliar face, a man about his own age with a short grey beard. He hadn’t seen him in shul before. He surmised that he must be a guest. But there was something very familiar about this face.

Suddenly, the man’s features and expression jarred loose a powerful flash of recognition in Kaufman’s mind. It was Menachem Reiner, his closest childhood friend. It was Menachem, the boy with whom he had grown up in their small Polish shtetl, with whom he had attended yeshivah in Bialystock. It was Menachem, the young man to whom he had clung, and who had clung to him, as they began their cattle-car journey into the fearsome blackness of Auschwitz.

They had promised each other to stick together, they had given each other courage and hope. Bearing the numbers the Nazis had tattooed on their arms, they had found in each other the strength to hold onto their humanity and resist becoming only numbers. They had vowed to help each other survive, both in body and soul.

And they did survive, Boruch Hashem. But when the war ended, each went his own way, eager to begin anew. For sanity’s sake, they each tucked the past away into a deep, locked box that would be opened only on rare occasions. Menachem had settled in Israel, and Shloime Kaufman had obtained a visa for the United States.

Consumed with creating a future and healing the wounds of the past, they had lost touch with each other. That was 42 years ago. Now, with unbelieving eyes and trembling hands, Kaufman beheld the unmistakable face of his friend once again. Shlomie decided in his mind: Menachem Reiner would get the sixth aliyah.

As the Torah reading began, the gabbai felt as if his heart could not be contained in his chest. He wanted to leap across the rows of men and fall upon his friend in a mighty embrace. “This must be how Yosef felt when he finally saw his brother Binyamin,” he thought to himself. “All these years!” Nevertheless, he clamped a tight lid on his emotions and performed his duty, calling up each aliyah with the traditional chant of “Ya’amod,” followed by the honoree’s Hebrew name. By the fifth aliyah, however, beads of sweat were sparkling on his forehead and tears were welling up in his eyes. He prayed that when the time came to call up number six, his voice would be able to break free of his tight throat.

There was no need to ask Menachem his name because he could never forget Menachem ben Yehoshua. For the first time, he began to wonder how would Menachem react when they came face to face? It was time to call him up, but Kaufman could not open his mouth. There were no words fit for this moment. All the suffering locked away in that figurative box was now out in the open, laid out before his eyes, and it was too much to bear.

The congregation began murmuring and looking toward Kaufman, fearing that the pale, trembling man was becoming ill. A deep cry rose up inside the gabbai, a cry to Hashem that contained in its broken sound all of His children’s cries of anguish. Kaufman turned in the direction of his friend and at last found his voice. “Yaamod, 57200148!” he called.

The baffled men in the shul did not understand what had happened. What was this number? What had happened to the gabbai? But in the back of the room, one man understood completely. The number was Menachem’s number, tattooed on his arm as a lifetime reminder of the darkest period of Jewish history, the epic tragedy of his people, which he had witnessed with his own eyes.

The entire shul sat in stony silence as Menachem moved slowly toward the bimah. Finally, as they saw him approaching his long-lost brother, they understood the scene that was unfolding in front of them. Menachem needed no introduction. With tears coursing down his face, he cried out, “Shloimele! Shloimele! Is it really you?” “Yes, Menachem, it’s really me!” Kaufman answered, embracing his friend. They wept into each other’s shoulders, rocking gently. “Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay,” Kaufman breathed.

Words were powerless to carry his chaotic emotions.

The entire shul sat spellbound, witnessing a moment that could have melted a heart made of iron. As these two men stood together, living witnesses to the Jewish people’s miraculous survival, it seemed that the Heavens had opened up to declare, through them, that Hashem would never forsake His people. Am Yisrael Chai! The Jewish nation is alive, and Torah has been rebuilt in America .

The Holocaust survivors who came to North America planted the seeds, and it is up to us to reap the fruits of their labor and continue their legacy.

(From, Stories for the Jewish Heart – Book 2 R. Binyomin Pruzansky

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I’m 63 and I’m Tired –

VERY PROFOUND READING!

Robert A. Hall is the actor who plays the coroner on CSI if you watch that show. He also is a Marine Vietnam War veteran who served five terms in the Massachusetts State Senate.

This should be required reading for every man, woman and child in the United States of America .

“I’m 63 and I’m Tired”

by Robert A. Hall

I’m 63. Except for one semester in college when jobs were scarce and a six-month period when I was between jobs, but job-hunting every day, I’ve worked hard since I was 18. Despite some health challenges, I still put in 50-hour weeks, and haven’t called in sick in seven or eight years. I make a good salary, but I didn’t inherit my job or my income, and I worked to get where I am. Given the economy, there’s no retirement in sight, and I’m tired. Very tired.

I’m tired of being told that I have to “spread the wealth” to people who don’t have my work ethic. I’m tired of being told the government will take the money I earned, by force if necessary, and give it to people too lazy to earn it.

I’m tired of being told that I have to pay more taxes to “keep people in their homes.” Sure, if they lost their jobs or got sick, I’m willing to help. But if they bought Mc Mansions at three times the price of our paid-off, $250,000 condo, on one-third of my salary, then let the left-wing Congress-critters who passed Fannie and Freddie and the Community Reinvestment Act that created the bubble help them with their own money.

I’m tired of being told how bad America is by left-wing millionaires like Michael Moore, George Soros and Hollywood Entertainers who live in luxury because of the opportunities America offers. In thirty years, if they get their way, the United States will have the economy of Zimbabwe , the freedom of the press of China the crime and violence of Mexico , the tolerance for Christian people of Iran , and the freedom of speech of Venezuela .

I’m tired of being told that Islam is a “Religion of Peace,” when every day I can read dozens of stories of Muslim men killing their sisters, wives and daughters for their family “honor”; of Muslims rioting over some slight offense; of Muslims murdering Christian and Jews because they aren’t “believers”; of Muslims burning schools for girls; of Muslims stoning teenage rape victims to death for “adultery”; of Muslims mutilating the genitals of little girls; all in the name of Allah, because the Qur’an and Shari’a law tells them to.

I’m tired of being told that “race doesn’t matter” in the post-racial world of Obama, when it’s all that matters in affirmative action jobs, lower college admission and graduation standards for minorities (harming them the most), government contract set-asides, tolerance for the ghetto culture of violence and fatherless children that hurts minorities more than anyone, and in the appointment of U. S. Senators from Illinois.

I think it’s very cool that we have a black president and that a black child is doing her homework at the desk where Lincoln wrote the Emancipation Proclamation. I just wish the black president was Condi Rice, or someone who believes more in freedom and the individual and less arrogantly of an all-knowing government.

I’m tired of being told that out of “tolerance for other cultures” we must let Saudi Arabia use our oil money to fund mosques and mandrassa Islamic schools to preach hate in America , while no American group is allowed to fund a church, synagogue or religious school in Saudi Arabia to teach love and tolerance.

I’m tired of being told I must lower my living standard to fight global warming, which no one is allowed to debate. My wife and I live in a two-bedroom apartment and carpool together five miles to our jobs. We also own a three-bedroom condo where our daughter and granddaughter live. Our carbon footprint is about 5% of Al Gore’s, and if you’re greener than Gore, you’re green enough.

I’m tired of being told that drug addicts have a disease, and I must help support and treat them, and pay for the damage they do. Did a giant germ rush out of a dark alley, grab them, and stuff white powder up their noses while they tried to fight it off? I don’t think Gay people choose to be Gay, but I #@*# sure think druggies chose to take drugs. And I’m tired of harassment from cool people treating me like a freak when I tell them I never tried marijuana.

I’m tired of illegal aliens being called “undocumented workers,” especially the ones who aren’t working, but are living on welfare or crime. What’s next? Calling drug dealers, “Undocumented Pharmacists”? And, no, I’m not against Hispanics. Most of them are Catholic, and it’s been a few hundred years since Catholics wanted to kill me for my religion. I’m willing to fast track for citizenship any Hispanic person, who can speak English, doesn’t have a criminal record and who is self-supporting without family on welfare, or who serves honorably for three years in our military…. Those are the citizens we need.

I’m tired of latte liberals and journalists, who would never wear the uniform of the Republic themselves, or let their entitlement-handicapped kids near a recruiting station, trashing our military. They and their kids can sit at home, never having to make split-second decisions under life and death circumstances, and bad mouth better people than themselves. Do bad things happen in war? You bet. Do our troops sometimes misbehave? Sure. Does this compare with the atrocities that were the policy of our enemies for the last fifty years and still are? Not even close. So here’s the deal. I’ll let myself be subjected to all the humiliation and abuse that was heaped on terrorists at Abu Ghraib or Gitmo, and the critics can let themselves be subject to captivity by the Muslims, who tortured and beheaded Daniel Pearl in Pakistan, or the Muslims who tortured and murdered Marine Lt. Col. William Higgins in Lebanon, or the Muslims who ran the blood-spattered Al Qaeda torture rooms our troops found in Iraq, or the Muslims who cut off the heads of schoolgirls in Indonesia, because the girls were Christian. Then we’ll compare notes. British and American soldiers are the only troops in history that civilians came to for help and handouts, instead of hiding from in fear.

I’m tired of people telling me that their party has a corner on virtue and the other party has a corner on corruption. Read the papers; bums are bipartisan. And I’m tired of people telling me we need bipartisanship. I live in Illinois , where the ” Illinois Combine” of Democrats has worked to loot the public for years. Not to mention the tax cheats in Obama’s cabinet.

I’m tired of hearing wealthy athletes, entertainers and politicians of both parties talking about innocent mistakes, stupid mistakes or youthful mistakes, when we all know they think their only mistake was getting caught. I’m tired of people with a sense of entitlement, rich or poor.

Speaking of poor, I’m tired of hearing people with air-conditioned homes, color TVs and two cars called poor. The majority of Americans didn’t have that in 1970, but we didn’t know we were “poor.” The poverty pimps have to keep changing the definition of poor to keep the dollars flowing.

I’m real tired of people who don’t take responsibility for their lives and actions. I’m tired of hearing them blame the government, or discrimination or big-whatever for their problems.

Yes, I’m tired. But I’m also glad to be 63. Because, mostly, I’m not going to have to see the world these people are making. I’m just sorry for my granddaughter.

I just saw a picture of the winning couple on the Canadian news. They are quite elderly and said that they don’t need the money because they have each other. They divided quite a lot of the money equally amongst family members and the rest was divided amongst hospitals, churches, fire departments and some other unmentioned charities. They kept nothing for themselves. This couple are dead ringers for the couple in the famous American painting that I think is called American Gothic (the couple where the man is holding a pitchfork).

Kapusta – I used to work with a girl whose maiden sirname was Kapusta. There is a huge Ukrainian population where I live and it isn’t that uncommon a name.

A bee came near me yesterday

I prayed that it would fly away

I stood very still

It took all of my will

I will not go out to play today.

Most bugs and rodents. Don’t even like hamsters. I am allergic to bee stings so if a bee/wasp/hornet comes anywhere near me I become almost catatonic but noisy.

It seems obvious to me that seeing Smile E Face’s postings that she spends far too much time texting on her cell phone. Too much of this activity leads to deteriorating writing habits. This is very evident on many blogs.

crdle: I think that I mentioned this on another thread but perhaps you didn’t notice it. OP means original poster – that is the person that started the thread. For this thread about shidduchim it was APushetaYid.

Wolfish: I was just talking about that scene from The Frisco Kid the other day. Many of us were laughing as if the movie had just come out. In my mind (limited as it may be) that is one of the funniest movie lines of all time. There are a couple of Mel Brooks lines that are equally as funny.

You should start keeping track of when this happens and what you may have eaten or drank in the couple of hours beforehand. It sounds like it could be an allergy. If it persists you should see an allergist or immunologist.

Oy – because there is noone hosting

I had to bump this posting

Before it disappears

And drives us all to tears

So please begin some boasting.

“Well, I was very busy staring at someone across the street when I suddenly walked straight into a pole”

A few years ago we were driving by the Bobov shul in Toronto about 10:30 on a Saturday evening. The place was emptying out at the time. I saw a young bochur walking and reading a book at the same time (and his fur hat was a little big on him so it was halfway down his forehead) – he missed a telephone pole by about an inch and he was just about to step out into traffic when I opened the window and hollered at him to pay attention where he was going – he was on an extremely busy street.

Eat chocolate and buy a watch.

I think that many people just have their heads in the sand. They believe that a Jewish person could never do such an evil thing. They don’t understand that everyone is, first of all a person and then, a member of a particular religion. Many Jews have what I call a “superiority” complex and believe that they are better than others and many those then believe that Jews are above committing crimes. I wish that they were but sadly that isn’t the case.

Where I live a Rabbi who had been here for many years was accused of molestation. The case is probably familiar to many of you as it was widely publicized. What made the problem even worse was the fact that a young man committed suicide and the Rabbi left town and went to a large school in a MAJOR city where he access to more children for well over 10 years. He was just fired from that institution a couple of years ago. He has never been legally punished for his crimes – so I guess we will have to wait for the afterlife for justice to be served.

crdle – I would think that this would be a problem that her parents should deal with – if they believe it is a problem. I am sure that you have lots of other things to concern yourself with.

With serious apologies for my very poor Yiddish. My (very modern and very Zionist) parents sent me to a Hebrew day school and I taught myself to understand Yiddish so that I could understand what my parents were talking about when they didn’t want us to know what they were talking about.

Heint is Shabbos – borei prei hagofen

Macht aufen yayin, nisht aufen bromfen

Auf kiddush mir vell essen

A bissel – zolst nisht fressen

Und gayen in der haim tsu shlofen.

Shabbat Shalom and Shavuah Tov

I vote for the Chassidish bus as well. With such a long trip, the food and song will be very important. If the “catering” that I encounter during my weekly class at Chabad is any example, then the bus trip should be like a wedding banquet. Also by the end of the trip I figure I will have retained many new and lively tunes – perhaps even a few dance steps. I don’t know exactly how much dancing one can do in the aisle of a bus, but where there is a will there is a way. Beeri, beeri, bim, bom – I can hear it all now. When do we leave???

lkwdfellow-If you are ever invited to a Canadian home, do NOT bring bourbon. We Canucks cannot stand the stuff. Here a nice bottle of rye (Crown Royal) or a single malt scotch is appreciated.

Forgive my ignorance – what is a Razor?

My new moniker well I adore it

Never heard one quite like this before it

Became my tagline

But by me thats just fine

Hope I don’t have to pay to insure it.

A kippah I’d love to crochet

But I have not yet learned the way

To hold thread and hook

Cannot fathom the book

So for another’s work I’ll pay.

Sac: Those of us who are familiar with you will have no problem distinguishing you from your imposter, especially since the spelling is different and your tag line now reads “the real one”. However, IMHO it was extremely unkind for someone to try and usurp your identity here on YWN. Nonetheless, you are the original and we all know that knockoffs of anything are never as good as the original – and you are the original Sacrilege.

crdle: I think you should move to Canada where we have universal coverage. Most of us still carry some private insurance to cover things that are not covered by the government program. In the province that I live in we pay nothing for our government coverage, but some provinces do charge a monthly premium but it is very low by American standards. What I cannot figure out is that, to date, nobody has been able to come up with a plan that combines the best of the Canadian system with the best of the American – yet they have figured out how to put man on the moon. You live in the world’s wealthiest country with the best available medical care in the world, yet so many of your citizens have no coverage. It is a shandah.

I also recommend Dara Horn’s 3 novels:

In the Image – winner of the Jewish Book Award

The World To Come – winner of the Jewish Book Award

All Other Nights

Vnishmart said we were forgiven

To chopping her name we were driven

For meter and rhyme

Took far too much time

When using the name she’s now livin’.