Proteksia, Democracy and Priviledge

A Mother in Israel is hosting Haveil Havelim this week here. She calls it the No Protektzia Needed Edition. So go exercise your democratic right to read interesting posts from the JBlogsphere.
In other democratic notes, Rehovot residents go to the polls to elect a new mayor today. The one we elected last year was convicted of graft so now we get a chance to figure out how we went wrong last time. Here's hoping we do better this time around.
We spent Shabbat in Mitzpe Ramon where we attended the culmination of Chodesh Irgun Fern Chassida and Baila both have posted about this Bnei Akiva tradition. It's the kick-off month for the youth activities. My youngest daughter is in charge of the girls organization in Mitzpe Ramon this year. In the picture above she is welcoming the newest members to the fold. The fourth grade girls are given a certificate of membership and they were very excited about it. The kids and their young leaders had stripped and painted a shelter during this month and on Saturday afternoon everyone and their parents turned out to see the fruit of their labors. They did a lovely job and it looks like it will be a great place to meet and hang out and maybe even learn something. The ceremony included a rousing flag waving presentation pictured below. I feel so lucky and proud to be here in Israel and see Jewish children waving our flag. After all these years I still feel it's a priviledge.

IDF is for defending Jews not exiling them!

Thank you  toTzippi Hotovely and Aryeh Eldad  for proposing a law that would squarely put the responsibility for police actions on the police. Yes, they want to the army's job to be defense and leave throwing Jews out of their homes* to the police. 
*This should not be taken as an endorsement of throwing Jews out of their homes. 

Haveil Havalim On and Off the Bima

Ima on (and off) the Bima  has posted the Haveil Havalim this week with the title: #243 NaBloPoMo Edition. I may sound like something from column C on the menu of a Chinese restaurant or a summer camp advertised in the back pages of the New York Times Magazine back in the days when I held it in my hands and read it. But no, this is a old INternet tradition handed down from blogger to blogger through the generations and means National Blog Posting Month which according to that tradition is celebrated in November. Devout and devoted bloggers post daily and ImaBima is joined in this ritual by such luminaries as FrumeSarah, MomInIsrael, IlanaDavita, Leora, Baila and probably quite a few others I'm forgetting. I am suggesting that HH be renamed  IsJeBlo-Off ( for Israeli  and Jewish  Blog Offerings) and you will find this weeks line up here. 

 I thought this photo of our three generations of Jewish soldiers is an appropriate postscript to David's post about his father last week. This was taken at the Western Wall after a swearing in ceremony of that soldier there in the middle. He saw battle the following year in Lebanon.

Do you believe in miracles?

This post, written by David, is dedicated to his father, Henry Fenster on his 85th birthday, may Hashem grant him many more years of health and happiness - biz hundret un zvantzig! 

I don't mean miracles like the parting of the Red Sea or extracting water from a rock. I'm talking about miracles performed by wonder working Hassidic rebbes who could bring children to the barren, heal the sick, protect the Jews from the goyish neighbors or travel in a sleigh from Rufschitz to Radomsk (a full day's journey) in the blink of an eye. 


Myself, I lean to a more Litvak-misnagdish (opponent of Hassidim) outlook. That is, I think every problem can be dealt with by sharp observation, cold analyses and maybe with a little pilpul (casuistry) for flavor. So I didn't believe in the wondrous power of Hassidic Rebbes -- until I heard this story from my father. 


It was 1944. My father a Jewish boy from the Jewish neighborhood of Logan in Philadelphia was nineteen years old. His father had passed away after a long illness and he had  graduated  Central High School and gone on to study business administration at university. After a year at college he joined the army and was sent to an engineering course. But then the army needed all their forces for the final fight against the Nazis. He was assigned to the infantry and trained to operate a field mortar. Before he shipped out to Europe, his mother (my Bubba Rose) went to the local Hassidic  Rebbe to ask for a blessing for her son. This was Rav Moshe Tzvi Twersky, scion of the great Tolne Hassidic dynasty founded by the first David Twersky around 200 years ago in the town of Tolnoya in the Ukraine. 


Bubba Rose was received in the Rebbe's shtible (Hassidic prayer room) by the Rebbe, who gave her 18 pennies “chai fenik”. The number 18 symbolizing 'chai' life. He told her to give the pennies to charity, that by virtue of the tzedaka (charity) and tefilla (prayer) her son would G-d willing return to her from the war. 
My father's unit landed in France in September, after the allied invasion on D-day. The first troops that landed  were well organized and had been together in training.  But the fighting was difficult and while they were pushing the the German army back to the German borderthey sustained over 70% casualties. My father's group were replacement troops sent to take over and make up for the men lost in the earlier battles.They participated in  battles in Normandy moved on into Alsace. Moving forward  meant digging a foxhole for shelter and shooting at the Germans and then moving to another place where another foxhole had to be dug and more firing. 


On October 14, near Luneville, his unit came out of a forest and advanced through a field towards a low hill. Suddenly the world exploded. They were caught in the open by a German artillary barrage. They  ran up the hill to the next place they would begin their digging in and my father felt what seemed like a sledgehammer blow to his lower back. He tried to keep up with the others but couldn't. The rest of the platoon continued advancing, leaving him there. This was not the IDF that 'never leaves the wounded in the field'. In WWII the army advanced and only later dealt with the wounded. There were no medics on the platoon level. He might have died in that field but by chance an armored vehicle was stuck in the mud and could not advance with the rest of the unit. As they extricated themselves from the quagmire they saw my father and took him in the vehicle to the next road. They left him on the road and moved on to join the advancing troops. Some time later, by chance, a partly disabled tank traveling back to the American lines for repairs found him and took him to the command bunker. He was shocked and worried that the officers would think he should have continued with the attack. Removing the heavy web belt he was wearing it became clear that he had lost a lot of blood. The belt absorbed the blood when he was hit by a cluster of shrapnel which lodged in his back near his spine. He reached down to take his helmet with him and the army surgeon who just happened to be in this forward command  bunker told him 'you won't be needing that' and started to work on him. The last thing my father remembered before going under the anesthetic was the surgeon saying that he had a million dollar wound, meaning it was serious enough to get him out of the war, but with luck would not leave him crippled for life. 


And so after two more operations in France he found himself being carried by German POWs onto a troop ship bound for the U.S. 

After recuperating in an army hospital for six months he was released. In July 1946 he married a Jewish girl from Philly (my mother Blossom Lichtenstein) and I was born five years later. 
Do I believe that the Tolne Rebbe miraculously watched over my father while his comrades were dying around him (and in the larger picture millions of Jews were being murdered in Europe)? 
Not really, but I also do not believe that it is the result of chance. I do believe in the divine destiny of the Jewish people, and the destiny of those Jews who survived WWII was to behold the rebirth of the Jewish Nation. 
I also believe that the prayers of a saintly Jew and a distraught Jewish mother opened a window in heaven through which divine providence would find my father and save him. And just maybe the Tolne Rebbe had a feeling this Jewish soldier would return from the war and raise a son who would go up to Israel to take part in the return of the people of Israel to its land. God would give him the privilege to see grandchildren and great grandchildren born in Israel who would close the circle on one Jewish family's sojourn in the exile. 
There is a footnote to this story. Recently I discovered that the present Tone Rebbe has a shtible in Bayit Vegan. I have heard a number of his sermons and lessons. He is an impressive speaker and is reported to be a wonder worker too.

Look Mom! I'm doing aerobics!

Let's not get carried away here. You are not going to see pictures of me actually working out. But, I am going to tell you about it. 
First you have to understand something about me. (I'm sure there are one or two of you out there reading this who did not know me as a teenager, right?) I am six feet tall (I used to say 5'11" but it really didn't matter) and although I wasn't always overweight I could never be described as skinny. Nor would you call me agile, co-ordinated or even graceful. (Someone, who shall remain nameless, once tried to compliment me by describing me as having 'awkward grace'.*) And truth be told I was never very good at sports and hated gym class. Once in high school I got a good grade in gym because they gave me 10 points for helping take attendance. Now, there's something I can do! 
Just after Pesach in 2007 Amy opened a 'Curves' franchise in Nes Tziyona, the next town over from Rehovot on the way from here to Tel Aviv. I was there the first week it opened. I was feeling that I needed a change in attitude, to do something that I hadn't done before.  (It may have had something to do with my being the heaviest I have ever been in my life.) What could be more out of character for me than to go and join a health club to start working out? 
So why is this something I can suddenly handle? Curves works like this: there are 12 machines in a circle and between each two machines is a platform called the 'recovery station'. You spend 30 seconds at each station either using the machine in the prescribed way or moving with the music at the recovery station. You do this for about half an hour and then go do a few stretching exercises and it's over. The club is for women only. That fits great for women who don't want to go to a fitness place where men and women work out together because of religious considerations. But what I have found at this club is a place where I feel I am not being judged by my agility or shape. This is a place where real women hang out. You know, like me. 
This week I joined an extra-credit aerobics group. One where everyone comes at the same time and does what the leader is telling you to do. This is definitely raising the bar so to speak. Stay tuned, at this rate, I may be ready for the triathlon in about 40 years. 


* This "compliment" has to compete with the person who told me 'you look very good in the dark' 

Anti-Semitism is Alive and Growing

I'd like to call your attention to a post on the  blog "Coffee and Chemo" where we follow RivkA as she fights cancer which began in her breasts and lives the life of a Zionist in Jerusalem with her husband and 3 children. 
Her title: People Hate Jews Even More Than They Hate Cancer says it well. In a nut shell Israelis invited to the Susan G. Komen for the Cure Middle East Conference on Breast Cancer, held in Egypt last week,  were disinvited by order of Egyptian health minister. And we are supposed to be at peace with Egypt. Didn't some folks get the Nobel prize or something? 
Now NOrway's second largest university is will be considering a boycott  of Israel's academics. 


This video gives a few good points about boycotting Israel, her people and her products.  

And then theres also the nifty idea of participating in a Buycott which means buying as many Israeli products as possible and also letting the retailers know you're buying Israeli in support of Israel. 

Academics out there should sign this petition  signed by  Prof. Bjorn Alsberg of Trondheim's NTNU calling on the board of the university to reject the proposed boycott.