More than Another Chumash Seudah

More than Another Chumash Seudah

It was with a mixture of joy and astonishment that I walked through the old metal gate on Rechov Yeshayahu and entered Etz Chaim, Jerusalem's future campus. I was on my way to celebrate the school's 170^th Chumash Seudah, to share the simcha of 42 five- ear-old "bachurels" rejoice as they officially began studying Chumash. Inside the large auditorium, the music was playing loudly as each group of excited youngsters tried to contain their giggles while taking their place on the podium.

Although over the years I had attended at least half a dozen Chumash seudos, this was probably the first time I was attending not as a mother or grandmother, but as a member of the Etz Chaim staff. Over the course of the last several years, a large number of English speaking parents started sending their children to Etz Chaim, Jerusalem, and the administration felt that it was important to have a native English speaker in the office to take care of all the English language correspondence – in other words, an English speaking secretary.  And of course, after having felt the mounting excitement and taken a part in many of the preparations, how could I not be there for this momentous occasion?

But this Chumash seudah really was special –because, in the most poignant way possible it symbolized the victory of Torah education in Eretz Yisrael. But to understand why, let me explain a bit of the history behind Etz Chaim's future campus and for that, I'll have to go back to 1841, when Rabbi Shmuel Salant, chief rabbi of Jerusalem for over 70 years, established the first Torah school in Jerusalem, Etz Chaim, a school that reflected the values of the Yishuv Hayashan -- holiness and spiritual elevation.

Just thirteen years later, in 1854, followers of the haskalah movement in Vienna sent Ludwig August Ritter von Frankal – a physician, poet, educator and follower of Zecharia Frankel, founder of the Conservative Movement --  to establish a secular school in the Holy City. Shortly before the planned opening of Frankal's school – the Lemmel School - Rav Shmuel Salant led all the Ashkenazi Rabbonim of the city and many of the Sefardi Chachamim in making a cherem against the new school.

For over 110 years, the two educational systems -- Etz Chaim and Lemmel -- battled for the neshomos of Jerusalem's children. Although at every opportunity, the cherem was reiterated by the Rabbonim of Etz Chaim and the Yishuv Hayashan, Lemmel continued to grow in popularity until it became the largest school in Jerusalem.

The growth of the Lemmel School was a reflection of the general direction of the country, and, for that matter, the entire world. People assumed that Israel would soon become a completely secular state and that within a generation or two, Torah true Judaism would dwindle until it vanished. An interesting anecdote, a friend of my husband's, a German Jew who arrived in Israel after during the British Mandate, recalls his first Kiddush Levana in Tel Aviv. One of the men commented, "You know, this might be the very last Kiddush Levana to be recited in Eretz Yisrael."

Because of the cherem and all that the Lemmel School symbolized, the Jews of the Old Yishuv were particular to avoid all contact with it. People refrained from even walking past the building, and if there was no choice, they made a point of crossing to the opposite side of the street.  

Yet, amazingly enough, despite all predictions, the Torah community, both in Jerusalem and around the world, blossomed. Today, the overwhelming majority of Jerusalem's children attend Orthodox schools, and each year, those numbers increase, whereas around the world there are frum Jewish communities in places that no one dreamed there would be one. And that brings us back to why this particular Chumash seudah symbolizes the triumph, and eternity, of Torah. Last year Etz Chaim had to leave its historic campus on Yaffo Road. After consulting with Harav Hagaon Rabbi Chaim Kenievsky shlita, and receiving his warm bracha for hatzlacha, Etz Chaim used the money from the sale of the old school to purchase the Lemmel Campus on Yeshayahu Street.

The school that broached Jerusalem's walls of kedushah and led the fight against Etz Chaim and Torah education in Israel will now become Etz Chaim's new home – another example of the eternity of Torah.

Is it no wonder that I could not possibly miss this Chumash seudah?

An amazing video about Jerusalem

This is my first attempt at producing a video. There's some amazing footage of Jerusalem, and of the people living in our Holy City.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WgHWPeVd5_Q&feature=youtu.be

Sunglasses Day

Sunglasses Day

As told to Debbie Shapiro

This was published in Binah, April 24, 2012.

Yocheved was speaking rapidly, intently. Her husband Zev was looking directly at her, nodding at her words. It was obvious that he was reliving the experience.  And as they so eloquently expressed their pain upon losing their newborn, I felt the tears well in my eyes, for I, too, had undergone a similar experience. Losing a child is something one never forgets — ever.

A few weeks prior to meeting Yocheved and Zev Kaufman, I opened my inbox to find an email from a young couple living in a small out-of-town community. "Would you be interested in writing our story?" the email began.  "Our son was born at the beginning of October and was niftar a week later, on the day after Yom Kippur. We were aware that he would be born with serious health issues and had prepared ourselves both emotionally and spiritually to accept that he may not make it. But although we are both coping, at times it is still quite difficult. We would like you to write about what we went though, so that our story will help others going through a similar nisayon."

From our subsequent exchange of emails, I imagined the Kaufmans to be both sensitive and vivacious, and I was not wrong. As I sat at my kitchen table, drinking coffee and listening to their story, I was awed at their capacity to develop such a deep love for a baby they barely knew, as well as their ability to overcome their pain to openly express that love.

Text:

Yocheved

It was almost as if my sister had a premonition that something was not right. That morning, when I mentioned to her that I had an appointment with my obstetrician, she asked me if my husband would be accompanying me. I thought it was a strange question. This was my sixth pregnancy. I knew the ropes. I certainly didn't need emotional support.

The doctor’s checkup seemed to take longer than usual, and when she completed the exam, she uncomfortably cleared her throat and told me that the baby had serious medical issues. I'm usually a very stoic person, but when the doctor said, "Your baby is probably not compatible with life,” I burst into tears. And then I called my husband.

Zev

At first, all I could hear was crying. Then, between her sobs, Yocheved somehow managed to tell me that something was wrong with our baby.  I was in a state of shock. I remember driving to the clinic on automatic, feeling that I was in some type of reality warp.

Yocheved

 The technician brought me to what's called the “Quiet Room” – a small room to the side, with a sofa and a prominently displayed box of tissues. I was numb. Things like this aren't supposed to happen to young couples like us! We’d had our ups and downs like everyone else, but never a challenge of this magnitude. We left the doctor's office in a daze. Although in reality nothing had changed, we were now aware that there was an ominous gray cloud on the horizon, and we were petrified.

Over the next weeks, I underwent many different tests. They all verified that our baby's kidneys were not functioning. The prognosis was unanimous: without kidneys to rid its blood of toxic waste, our baby would die shortly after birth.

My husband and I chose not to tell anyone, including our families and closest friends. At night, when the house was quiet, we would stay up half the night, sharing our worries. We supported each other as our initial shock changed to grief, and finally, to acceptance.  We discussed every aspect of the challenge – from how and when to break the news to the children, to whether I'd light an additional Shabbos candle for this baby's neshamah. There were halachic questions as well, which we discussed with our rabbanim.

I put on a good show, pretending to be a radiant young mother looking forward to welcoming a new addition to the family. Each morning before leaving the house to drive the children to school, I would carefully comb my sheitel and spend a few minutes making sure that my clothes were just right. To everyone else, I appeared to have not a care in the world. No one could have guessed what was going on inside. But alone in the car, I would suddenly burst into tears. To conceal my red rimmed eyes, I started wearing sunglasses, even on dark, stormy days. I'm sure that people thought I was a bit strange!

Eventually, I decided to confide in a friend, Miri, who had gone through a similar nisayon. She was amazingly supportive. After that, a day didn't go by without Miri getting in touch with me. Her friendship and support gave me tremendous chizuk — just knowing that she was always there for me made a huge difference in my life.

Miri: You looked really good today. Hope you had a good day
Yocheved: Glad to hear. But I feel absolutely awful and had a terrible day. I can't stop crying. Don't even know why.

Miri: So why don't you call me? If you want to come over tonight, I'm more than happy to spend time with you.
Yocheved: What's a good time?
Miri: Whenever you want. You're always welcome.

 Yocheved: Went to the chiropractor this morning, and as I was lying there in agony, she said, "At least the prize at the end is all worth it.”
Miri: That must have been horrible. And you probably smiled through it.
Yocheved: Of course.

Later on in the pregnancy, a new series of tests showed that the baby had minimal kidney function, which gave us hope for his survival. "But," the doctors warned us, "if the baby does survive, he will need multiple surgeries and hours of intense therapy to be able to function properly."

Our heads were spinning. All of a sudden, the ominous cloud in the horizon had changed form. We had come to terms with the idea of returning home with empty hands. Now we had to accept the possibility that I'd be bringing home a very sick baby and that the pattern of our lives would change forever. Although it was a ray of hope – our baby might live and we were ecstatic – we had prepared ourselves for one reality, and now that it had changed, we had to adjust our way of thinking.

 I was due to give birth on Erev Sukkos. To ensure that the pediatric medical staff would be available for my birth, I was scheduled to deliver right after Rosh Hashanah. During the month of Elul, I prepared dozens of precooked meals and stocked up on staples. I felt as if I was preparing for a war.

Yocheved: Eighteen chicken rolls, ten kokosh cakes, seven containers of letcho, three containers of mushroom sauce, two trays of corned beef, and two ice cream bases. I'm falling off my feet now. Now I just have to clean up the mess, make the lunches, and I'm off to sleep. No more room in the freezer!
Miri: You're incredible. Tomorrow, you can come and cook for me!

Miri: I saw you today. Are you okay? Should I ignore the sunglasses?

Yocheved: I can be fine one minute and in tears the next, so I try not to go anywhere without them.
Miri: That is all part of being “normal”.

Yocheved: Baruch Hashem I had a good Shabbos. Four weeks to go...
Miri: Happy to hear that Shabbos was good. You will be okay, iy"H. I am keeping tabs on countdown and am sure that despite everything you will have nachas from him iy"H.

Yocheved: This baby is on my mind every second of every minute. Can't stop thinking about it; I guess ’cuz it's getting closer.

Rosh Hashanah was an amazing experience. Every act and every tefillah took on a new intensity. As I lit the Yom Tov candles, I wondered where I'd be the following week. Life death — it was all intertwined, all so vivid. "Mi yichyeh, mi yamus — Who will live, who will die." The words were so real. As the cloud drew closer, I knew that whatever happened, I would be able to cope. Hashem is the Judge and His judgment is perfect.

Miri: Most mothers become mothers when they give birth. But you've done so much for him already...And really, call me on my cell tomorrow night if you need to. I'll be there for you.
Yocheved: As much as I am terrified, a small part of me is excited to finally see this baby.

The night before I was due to give birth, we sat down our two eldest children and told them that I was going to have the baby tomorrow, but it is likely the baby will be very sick and may not even survive. It was heart wrenching to watch their bitter disappointment, but we did our best to explain that although we cannot understand everything, we know Hashem does everything for the best.

During the birth, my husband spoke for both of us when he said, “I feel like we’re in a courtroom and the sentence is about to be handed down.” After the baby was born, when the team of six neonatal specialists entered the room, I burst into tears. With their presence, I couldn't delude myself into imagining that everything was normal.

The baby – my sweet little child — cried heartily at birth. He appeared to be so incredibly perfect; so alert. I was sure that the doctors had made a mistake or that it had all been nothing more than a bad dream. The doctor handed him to me and for a few precious seconds, I cuddled my newborn. And then they whisked him away.  

Zev

I went upstairs to the neonatal unit with the baby, while a friend stayed with my wife. After a battery of tests, the doctors confirmed that there probably was little or no kidney function. Without functioning kidneys, the wastes would slowly poison his body. The doctors predicted that he would die within a few days.   

Yocheved

 Zev returned from the neonatal unit and gently told me that it didn’t look like we'd be taking our baby home. It was like a stab in the heart. I so much wanted to take my baby home.

Because we knew that our time was so limited, we wanted to bond with our son as much as possible; to convey our intense love to this precious neshamah that we had been granted for such a short time. I spent the next few days cuddling my beautiful son. His tiny hand would grasp my finger while he gazed intensely into my eyes with the otherworldly gaze of a newborn. It was a very powerful time for all of us. Medically, there was nothing we could do for him. He was totally in Hashem's hands, and that, too, was comforting.

Yocheved: I emailed you a picture of the baby.

Miri: I think you are so smart to enjoy every moment with your baby. Looking back, you will know that you made the most of it. And really, all the people we care about aren't here forever. We have to appreciate whatever time we have. He really is beautiful. Amidst the hardship, there is what to enjoy. I am in awe of you.

As per our Rav's instructions, we named our baby Refoel. Now he had an identity, and a name that we and others could daven for.

Our parents and siblings looked after our other children. They shuttled back and forth from the hospital all week to bring us clothing and food or just to be there with us at our baby’s bedside at this trying time. We decided to let our two eldest children come and see the baby. They each got a turn to hold and kiss him. I think it was very therapeutic for them.

My husband did not leave me the entire week. Then, after five days, on Erev Yom Kippur, he left the hospital to get organized for Yom Tov. While he was gone, the doctor informed me that according to that morning's blood test, Refoel had only a few more hours to live.  I immediately phoned my husband. He rushed back to the hospital. Together with our baby, we were transferred to a “quiet room,” which had everything we might need to feel comfortable during this very difficult, yet, incredible as this might sound, spiritual time.

Miri: Do you want to talk? I'm thinking of you, davening for you. I feel as though I am in the room with you.
Yocheved: I feel that Hashem is with us.
Miri: Hashem is definitely with you. You will feel Him like never before. The baby must be so peaceful and beautiful. Treasure the moments with your precious boy. We are davening for you to have the strength to get through this Yom Tov. Give the baby a kiss.
Yocheved: Thanks for everything, Miri. Fast well.

The nurses – the entire staff, actually — were amazing; so kind and compassionate. And despite the doctor's prognosis, the baby survived the day.

A few hours before Yom Kippur, our parents came in to the hospital to visit. My father and father-in-law both bentched us and the baby. There was not a dry eye in the room.

The nurses managed to find two candles for me to light. Late that afternoon, as I lit the candles to usher in Shabbos and Yom Kippur, I couldn't help but wonder which would survive longer — my baby or the candles? But the baby survived for another two days. Yom Kippur was on Shabbos; he was niftar on Sunday night.

My husband's shul hosted a shalom zachor for the baby. Our eldest son prepared little containers of sweet smelling spices, which were passed around in lieu of food. My precious Refoel kept one Shabbos and fasted one Yom Kippur (he received nourishment intravenously) before departing from this world.

I cuddled my baby from Friday morning until Motzoei Yom Kippur. My husband remained with me over Yom Kippur, davening the Yom Kippur tefillos in our private room. When he finished Kol Nidrei, he stood in his tallis and recited the brachah of Shehecheyanu, thanking He Who has sustained us to this day.

Between the tefillos, my husband sang to the baby. We spoke to him and asked him to daven for people in need of yeshuos when he returns to the World of Truth. The day was long, but we were just happy to spend every extra hour we could with our baby. We watched the sun set, and as we davened Neilah, the words “pesach lanu shaar — open a gate for us," took on a new meaning. The atmosphere was surreal. Motzoei Yom Kippur came and Refoel was still hanging on to life.

Yocheved: Still holding him. He's hanging in there. I haven't slept. Not sure how long this will go on for.
Miri: You are doing everything that you possibly can for this baby. It's really incredible. Hashem will give you the strength you need, and you will be rewarded for all the pain you are going through. Do you have food?

Yocheved: Yes.
Miri: Good. Take care of yourself.

Yocheved: Did you say you were making mashed potatoes?
Miri: Yes. Do you want some? I would be honored.

On Motzoei Yom Kippur, a few men from our community came to take turns holding the baby. For the first time in over 36 hours, my husband and I were able to lie down. Everyone was incredibly supportive. People I barely knew were texting me words of chizuk and sending us whatever we could possibly need. The hospital staff could not help but notice and it was a tremendous kiddush Hashem.

Yocheved: We bathed the baby and dressed him. The nurses removed the oxygen, which makes it easier to cuddle him. Now he is sleeping in my arms.
Miri: That sounds so peaceful... What do the doctors predict?
Yocheved: They can't predict. I guess we just have to wait and enjoy every minute, and when his time is up, it's up.

Yocheved: I am getting more attached to the baby every minute, and I am so scared of letting go.

In the end, our baby died peacefully in my arms. He just stopped breathing and after a few long minutes, it became obvious that he was gone.  There was no panic, no gasping theatrics, just a realization that he was no longer with us. We didn't tell the hospital staff; we didn't want them to touch the meis. Instead, we called the chevrah kaddisha. The man from the chevrah kaddisha was crying as he took the baby from my arms and placed him on the sofa. Then he called one of the doctors on duty to issue the death certificate. The doctor was very young and inexperienced and this was obviously the first time that he had been asked to verify a death. He was shaking, and we tried our best to calm him.

And then it was over. We packed up our belongings and returned home.

Yocheved: It's over. We are on our way home and I want to sleep for a few days.

It was one o'clock in the morning. The streets were dark and empty. My arms were empty, and I felt the emptiness with a painful intensity.  Yet I was at peace with what had happened. I knew that there was a reason that this neshamah had come down to this world, and we felt that it was a zechus to have given Refoel this opportunity.

But still, the pain was a wrenching, almost physical.

Yocheved: Cried myself to sleep last night. And this weather is so depressing...My cleaning lady can't stop crying. She came in today, all excited, with a beautiful baby present. I probably should have let her know.
Miri: What a pain to have to deal with this on top of everything else. Think of Malky. She's super excited to be home with you. And the sun is shining.
Yocheved: I'm having problems sleeping. I'm so tired, but my mind is racing.

Miri: Have not heard from you today. Are you okay?
Yocheved: I'm okay. It's much harder now that everyone is going on with their normal lives, and I feel this emptiness. I think I was numb for the first week, but now the pain is even stronger. I used half a box of tissues last night while I looked at his photo album and my eyes are all puffy today. Definitely a sunglasses day...

After the baby died, my husband asked me, “If you could, would you just erase the last few months of your life?” My answer was clear: “Definitely not.” As challenging as the experience was, we also grew tremendously from the ordeal.

The entire experience was all so surreal: a little neshamah coming down to the world for one week, meriting to keep a Shabbos and fast a Yom Kippur, and then to have his bris and be buried on the eighth day. I have no doubt that Refoel, z"l, accomplished whatever he was sent here to do.

I am happy to be contacted by others going through similar experiences. You are welcome to email yomkippurbaby@gmail.com.

Staying on Ball at the Gym

Staying On Ball at the Gym

----Are gyms really healthy?

By Debbie Levine

It happened so suddenly that I had no idea what hit me, or to be more accurate, what I had hit. I found myself lying flat on the floor and   my head felt as if it was exploding. Crouched at my side a woman who looked vaguely familiar was persistently asking me my name.

"Debbie. Debbie Levine," I finally answered.

"Okay, your fine. Everything's fine. Nothing happened."

But I didn't feel fine; all I wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep. Instead, this nudnik kept on talking to me as she commanded me to stand up and walk to the closest chair.

My legs felt wobbly; the room was spinning, but somehow, I managed to take a few steps and collapse into the reclining seat of the shoulder press machine.

Slowly, I began recollecting the events of the last few minutes. I had been sitting on a stability ball,  bouncing up and down before moving to the next station in the circular workout, when the ball exploded with, as the ladies later told me,  there was an enormous boom that sounded as if a bomb had gone off, sending me flying backwards, straight onto my head.

The gym instructor kept on insisting that I was fine, and that I should go home to rest. I was frightened, very confused, and felt that I needed an ambulance, but felt ridiculous asking for one. After all, I was perfectly okay, right?  Instead, I asked one of the women exercising there to drive me to my HMO's out-of-hours emergency clinic.  The receptionist took one look at me, called the nurse, and within minutes I was hustled into an ambulance, on my way to Hadassah Hospital – sirens and all.

Hmmm… and I thought I was doing something good for my health by joining a gym.

The truth is, stability balls almost never explode. They're designed for people to exercise on, and if properly cared for, can hold up to 300 pounds. And even though I ended up suffering a concussion and had to spend close to a month resting before I returned to normal, the doctors and nurses in the emergency room kept on admonishing me not to let this accident keep me from going to the gym.

They may be right, but after this incident, I doubt I'll never use one of those balls again!

ADVANTAGES OF A GYM

The medical staff had good reason for urging me to return to my regular exercise. A lot has been written about the importance of regular exercise – it helps us to stay healthy, lowers blood pressure, keep blood sugar in line, and have more energy. But as anyone who's tried to stick to an exercise regime (or a diet, for that matter) soon discover that although intellectually we understand the importance of regular exercise, actually getting down to the nitty-gritty and doing it is another matter -- which is part of the psychology behind joining a gym. It's similar to purchasing lunch at an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord -- even if you're not really hungry, you'll make sure to eat, because, by golly, you've paid for it!

"It's also a lot safer to exercise at a gym than at home," points out Mrs. R., a former gym owner. "What happened to you was really freak accident  -- this is the first time that I've heard of a stability ball exploding --  and it could have just as easily happened elsewhere. In the over ten years that I operated a gym, we had only two accidents – one time a woman fell of a step, and another time a woman started peddling the stationary bike before her foot was properly positioned – and there were hundreds of women using the equipment each day. On the other hand, every night I see dozens of woman power-walking on the hard pavement without realizing the damage this can cause to their knees. But the gym equivalent of a power-walk – the tread wheel – is designed to be easy on the body and minimize wear and tear. In addition, all gyms are supposed to have a qualified instructor available to provide guidance and make sure that the machines are being used properly. Don't forget, at the gym, you're exercising under professional supervision, and that's something that you'll never have at home!"

"There's also the social factor," points out Mrs. Devorah Shapiro, a grandmother many times over who tries– but doesn't always succeed – in attending three 45 minute classes at the gym each week. "Since the classes I attend our aimed mainly of older women, we spend a lot of time working on balance, a skill that is important in preventing falls. Sometimes I'm really amazed at the things I've learned to do, and I would have never done it on my own. But because I'm in a group with other women, we laugh a lot as we urge each other along.   The friendships that I've developed there continue even after the class is over. Sometimes," she chuckles, "we even go out for coffee and a pastry after our exercise class." (Hmmm… that's one danger that I didn't even consider when I started researching this article).

SO WHAT'S THE CATCH?

So what's the catch? Well, for one, gyms cost money. Many gyms charge a $50-100 registration fee, plus a monthly membership fee of anywhere from $50 to $100, with a minimum one year commitment. Although it's an incentive for taking advantage of the service, too often, people join with the best of intentions, but are unable to continue for a multitude of reasons from "boredom," to a change in career plans that clash with the hours that the gym are open, to (believe it or not) the gym changing its schedule.

"I joined a gym that was located just down the block from my office," begins Naomi Siegel, "because it was convenient, and I could stop in there on my way home from week. Then the gym cut its hours and is closed from 1:30 to 5:00 in the afternoon, well I finish work at 2:00. But because signed up for the entire year, I'm still paying my monthly fee, even though I almost never am able to take advantage of the service."

Less professional gyms may try to cut costs by hiring instructors or managers who are lacking proper training. A certified gym instructor understand the human body, and will know when to caution exuberant exercisers to take it easy, or give them tips on how to do things according to their own abilities. The elderly Mrs. Shapiro praises her exercise teacher: "Our Pilates teacher is amazing. She knows each of personally, and modifies the exercise according to our capabilities, so that we end up stretching ourselves, without overextending ourselves. It's really an art. But one time I attended a class where the teacher literally pushed us to the point of exhaustion. It took me a few days to recover, and, of course, I never went back to that class."

Over-exercising can be a real problem. I recently met a woman who caused serious injury to her back because, in her desire to "get back to herself," right after having a baby, she spent over an hour each day peddling the stationary bike at the gym, when she really should have been at home, recovering from birth and caring for her newborn.

And that brings us to the more serious problem of spending time in what often can only be described as a Hellenistic environment. Yes, it's a mitzvah to take care of our health, after all, it's a gift from Hashem that enables us to do the things that are truly important in life. But the atmosphere at many gyms -- from a language that insinuates body worship (body sculpture!) to loud, secular jungle-type music, lends itself to making the tefel as the ikar and can become spiritually dangerous.

THE PROFESSIONALS SPEAK

Although anyone can purchase a few exercise machines and equipment, it takes a real health professional to run a gym properly.

Sara Meta, an ACE certified instructor and personal trainer who specializes in mobility and balance, had this to say about stability balls:  "Because a stability ball is an unstable surface, the core muscles, which are basically the muscles in the lower back, the abdominals, the gluteals (Sarah, this is how it's spelled, according to Meta)and the hip flexors, are constantly adjusting to maintain stability, sitting on a stability ball is of itself excellent exercise."

The following words left me speechless: "To prevent stress related injury, it's important to match the ball to the height of the person using it. When sitting, the knees should be at a perfect 90' angle, level with the hips, and the feet should be kept flat on the floor."

Although I have attended several different classes where we exercised while sitting on stability ball, none of the instructors had ever mentioned this point. 

Sara points out the disadvantages of exercise machines: "Machines stabilize the body during exercise, so although they develop muscle, they don't train a person to use those muscles in real life. A person can strengthen his arm muscles with a machine, but he still needs to learn how to properly align his back be able to lift groceries without hurting himself."

Any tips about working out at the gym?

"Go for quality rather than quantity," she begins. "That means fewer repetitions, but with proper form. Treadmills are great for cardio strength, and certainly much less stressful for the body than walking on pavement. But if you feel joint pain, STOP! Overdoing it can result in injury."  

Ruchie Herbst is Supervisor of the women’s division at the YVY Fitness Center and formerly an Aquatics Director for at various girl's camps in the Catskills. She is an American Red Cross certified Lifeguarding Instructor, Swimming Instructor and is a designated American Red Cross WSI Trainer.

So what should one look for in choosing a gym? I asked Ruchie "Look for a clean, modern facility, where the employees are licensed and required to undergo regular training.  Some positive signs: a cleaning staff that is highly visible, equipment is regularly repaired and maintained; the availability of customized lessons, friendly employees, and a general sense of camaraderie."

Ruchie points out, "Most gym accidents are preventable and people need to follow standard precautions. Don't exercise on an empty stomach first thing in the morning, or immediately after a meal. Stay hydrated while exercising. Don't overexert yourself to the point of exhaustion. If you're dizzy, nauseous, have blurred vision, feel faint, or feel pain in the back or joints, STOP exercising; if the symptoms continue, tell a gym employee. Always follow instructions. For example, shut off the treadmill after use and wear appropriate footgear.

"It's important that professional trainers are available and can be seen walking around the gym. At Yeled VYalda Fitness Center, a certified Personal Trainer orients the members in proper use of the equipment.  Orientations are conducted monthly and are mandatory for all members. "

What about all the papers the gyms require its members to sign? After I was propelled off the ball, I reread my gym membership contract and was surprised to read that the gym is not liable for anything – including death (gulp).

Mrs. R., points out that "the forms that you signed are pretty standard, and all gyms that I am familiar with use similar forms. But at the same time gyms are required to have insurance, which means that if an accident does occur, the insurance company will be the one paying for any damages, and not the gym owner. So despite the forms, a responsible gym will accept responsibility for injury."

BE AN EDUCATED CONSUMER

As I learned the hard way, it's important to be an educated consumer when choosing a gym, or exercise class, or even hiring a personal trainer. Don't be afraid to ask questions. Are the instructors and people running the gym trained? Was it just a one day in-house training, or did they get professional certification? If they are professionally certified, where did they study and are they constantly upgrading their certification? What about emergency training? The gym is there to provide us with a service, and we have the responsibility to make an educated choice.

A Cammando in Hashem's Army as appeared in Hamodia

A Commando in Hashem's Army!

Debbie Shapiro interviews Ariel Siegelman

"In Israel, in order to be a realist you must believe in miracles" Ben Gurion.

At 3:30, the doorbell rang and I opened the front door to a young man sporting a large black velvet kippah, long tzitzitt, and a smile as large as Wyoming. Ariel Siegelman is a soldier in an Israeli Defencse Force special counter terrorist unit that's been involved in many "serious and dangerous operations in enemy areas." Six years ago, while still active in the IDF reserves, Ariel took his expertise in counter-intelligence and security to an international level with development of The Draco Group, a security company specializing in security solutions and security training to clients worldwide. One look at this gentle young man with keen, intelligent eyes and my stereotyped preconception of the egotistic macho "kochi v'otzem yadi" Israeli soldier was shattered.

THEY NEVER MISSED AN OPPORTUNITY TO REMIND ME OF MY JEWISHNESS

Ariel grew up in North Carolina "on the border of Georgia and Tennessee," in a secluded rural area, where "aside from my family, there was only one other Jew living there.

"There was only one other kid in my school that wasn't a Baptist – he was Catholic. The kids would ask me where I went to church. I told them that I don't; that I'm Jewish. They were even more shocked when I told them that I don't believe in their god. It was a difficult time for me. They never missed an opportunity to remind me that I was a Jew - I guess I own them gratitude for that, baruch Hashem."

Ariel grew up with a strong sense of Jewish identity. His parents sent him to a Lubovitch shaliach to prepare for his bar mitzvah, and from then on he put on tefillin every morning. Although he didn't keep kosher, he was always careful not to eat pork.  

In college, Ariel became involved with a non-Jewish foreign exchange student and traveled to France to meet her family. "At dinner, I asked what type of meat was being served. The girl's mother quickly answered, 'Don't worry. I wouldn't serve pig while you're here.' With those words, my girlfriend's grandmother started yelling at her daughter, and within a few minutes, the entire family was screaming at each other– in French, of course. It was as if a firebomb went off! With my refusal to eat pig, the grandmother had realized that I am Jewish, and she was furious that there was a Jew in her house! She had lived in Occupied France under the Nazis; who knows how many Jews had she sent to their deaths? It suddenly dawned on me that I could not marry this girl – or any other non-Jewish girl."

DISCOVERING JUDAISM

Not long after Ariel returned to the United States, his best friend was killed in a car accident. "It happened when he was on his way to visit me. I suddenly realized that life is very short. I had no doubt that my friend, Eric, was standing before Hashem, giving an accounting of his life, and I suddenly realized that life – even if one lives live to be a hundred and twenty – is really very short. What was I doing with my time on earth? Was having a good time at a party really that important? I knew that I had to identify my values and then do something with it."

Not long afterward, a visiting rabbi gave a lecture at my university campus. "All of you came to this lecture because being Jewish is important to you," the rabbi began. "But if someone was watching how you live your life, how long would it take for that person to realize that you are Jewish. What are you doing on a day-to-day basis to identify yourself as a Jew?"

That question piqued Ariel's curiosity. What COULD he do to express his Jewishness? Before long, he and a friend began studying Judaism together. "Neither of us really knew anything," he explained, "but my father, who had meanwhile become religious, provided me books and made himself available to answer our questions. I soon came to the conclusion that I should show pride in my being Jewish by behaving like a Jew, in other words, to follow the Torah. By the time I was twenty-two, I was trying to live my life according to the halachah.

"Then, in September 2000 the Intifada broke out. Watching coverage of the violence, I saw footage of Israeli soldiers – boys my own age – put their life on the line to retaliate against the acts of terror. People were afraid to travel to Israel – they were cancelling their tickets  --   yet I felt that this was davka whan I must go. After all, if I were to see masked men sneak into my house, followed by screams, I would never say, 'Boy, am I fortunate not to be there!' I'd rush right in to help my family! Well, Israel is my home and the Jews are my people. How could I not be there with them?"

A year after moving to Israel, Ariel joined a special Army unit that, as he so evasively put it, "does the types of things people in special units do." From his refusal to answer any additional questions, it was obvious that he was involved in extremely sensitive missions and that more information would not be forthcoming.

OPERATION CAST LEAD

Operation Cast Lead started on December 27, 2008, in response to the bombardment of civilian targets by terrorists stationed in Gaza. A few days later, Ariel was one of the thousands of troops involved in an all-out Israeli military offensive against the enemy.

Ariel recalls, "Gaza is a dangerous place. It has a lot of people who are violent and want nothing more than to see a lot of dead Jews."

"We all knew that we were going into a place that the enemy wanted us to come into. We knew that they had booby traps set for us, we knew that they were waiting for us with antitank rockets; Gaza is not a place you want to go.

"Walking toward the border, there's this line of soldiers as far as I can see. At a certain point, I was asked if I have my dog tags. I didn't. So they give me tags with a number – 6624, and added my name with this number to a long list. 'Put one in your boot. Put one in your other boot. Put one around your neck.' If they find pieces of my body somewhere, hopefully they will be able to tell, oh, that's #6624.

"Right before the border, we're ordered to stand up in a big semi-circle many, many men deep. Our brains are buzzing, trying to figure out what's going on. A rabbi stand before us and, yelling at the top of his lungs, he screams the pasukim that the Kohen Gadol said to the nation before they went out to battle: 'You are the army of Israel and you are going to war. But you will not be afraid because G-d is going out to war with you; G-d is going to fight your battle for you.' I think I speak for the other guys who were there, all that buzzing, all of that confusion that was going on in our heads, now it was focused. We went into Gaza, and G-d went into Gaza with us."

Ariel's unit engaged in heavy combat, yet, "from all that shooting, all of those explosions, all that stuff that was going on around us, no one in my unit got killed!" One soldier was injured when a chunk of concrete flew out of a house and tore the arm of his uniform. A medic took care of it with a baby-wipe! "These experiences made me realize how much Hakadosh Baruch Hu is in the details in every moment of our live. If that guy had been standing just one inch closer to the building, his arm would have been torn off."

SHABBOS IN GAZA

Ariel recalls Shabbos in Gaza: "It was Friday, and we had limited supplies. Amidst the constant hyper-awareness of being in a war zone, a debate began regarding what we should use to make iddush. We decided to make a minyan in one of the operations bases. It was amazing; even those guys who keep nothing were willing to risk their lives to take part in the Shabbos davening. The streets were extremely dangerous --- booby traps everywhere, any corner or window could be hiding a sniper, even our 'safe houses' weren't so safe, and we had to crawl through certain parts of it so that the enemy wouldn't see us. Yet, as the sun was getting lower, small groups of Jewish men snuck through the dark alleyways in order to take part in the minyan.

"To keep the enemy from identifying our location, the house had to be kept absolutely pitch black dark. So there we were, a few dozen soldiers, dressed in our combat gear, standing together, shoulder to shoulder, very quietly singing Lecha Dodi. Outside, the enemy was hunting us, yet inside, it was Shabbat! There we were, a room full of hunted Jews, connecting to eternity  -- and to the generations of Jews before us, who were moser nefesh to keep Shabbos. It was an awesome moment. My friend, Ayal, who is not yet religious, turned to me with tears in his eyes  and said, 'Ziggy [that's my nickname],  this is something that you will never be able to explain to anyone, but you will tell your grandchildren about this moment.'"

THESE ARE OUR ENEMIES

I ask Ariel for more stories. "After taking over a house, we began checking the area around us. This is very dangerous work – every corner, every window, has the potential for death. As my team rounded the edge of a small shack, the first soldier at the door checked the area using a strong light anchored to the end of his weapon. In the back, near the wall he noticed a pile of blankets on the floor. Something about it didn't seem right. Then the pile began to move, and an old lady sat up.  Our team leader yelled to her in Arabic to come out, but she just sat there staring out. The Commander heard what was going on and ordered, 'Shoot to kill.' The team leader responded in shock, 'What?! But she's someone's grandmother.' The Commander, now more assertive said, 'SHOOT TO KILL!!' At that, he fired into the mass of blankets and the human form melted away.

"A few minutes later, back in our safe house, we stood together, shuffling our feet, feeling terrible as we commenced a debriefing of the situation. After all, we had killed someone's grandmother. None of us had come to Gaza to kill old women. Shortly afterwards a special explosives unit was sent to check the shed, as was standard procedure. They discovered that the shed was packed with all kinds of wires leading to huge explosives buried underneath the dirt floor. The old lady – that sweet little grandmother – was still holding the detonator in her hand.

NATIONAL AND INTERNATIONAL SECURITY

Upon completing his Army service, the IDF asked Ariel to train community rapid response teams, the civilian volunteers who act as a first response to terrorist attacks, most usually in the so-called settlements.

Eventually, Ariel decided to use his vast experience in anti-terrorism to open The Darco Group, an international organization that provides security solutions to individuals, organizations, governments, businesses and corporations. They specialize in providing training, protection, and logistical support for clientele in difficult to operate regions. Ariel's team has provided security in both maritime and land-based operations, securing ships against piracy and providing full support to businessmen and diplomats alike. Although, due to discretion he could not be very specific about his clients, he did show me pictures of himself, together with a few other Israelis security experts, deep in the African jungle. "We were protecting a mining company," was his terse explanation.

What was it like being the only religious Jew among primitive natives and secular Israelis?? "First of all," he begins, "it's not totally outside of my world. After all, I grew up in a rural environment where I was the only Jew.

"Although at first glance the Israelis that I work with might seem irreligious, I am always amazed at the greatness of their Jewish neshamah! If I would make a brachah quietly, for example, they would chide me, 'Nu, why can't you let us have the zechut of answering amen?' When I'd make Kiddush, they would all quickly stand to listen, while placing their hands over each other's heads in lieu of a kippah. It's amazing to see how, in such a totally non-Jewish environment, Israelis connect so strongly to their Judaism. And their level of mesirat nefesh! I have never seen a people so giving, so caring, and so willing to suffer for their own people, for the cause, and although they won't tell you straight out, but yes... for the Torah."

Ariel's team also utilizes their military and security backgrounds to offer high adventure trips in Israel and around the world. "We build tailor-made experiences for businessmen, families, and youth. One of our most popular experiences is the Commando training courses that we offer in Israel. People come to us to get real training in Israeli combat and security techniques. It might sound strange to some people, but we have been very pleased with the outcome of teaching Jews from around the world skills to protect themselves, their families, and their communities. It gives a sense of confidence, of responsibility to our people, and besides," he adds with a laugh, "it's just plain fun!"

ON THE HIGH SEAS

The word “pirates” bring to mind raggedy eye patches, thumping wooden legs, colorful talking parrots (who constantly repeat, "Yes Mate" in a gravelly voice) and, of course, old fashioned boats with blossoming white sails. So when Ariel told me that his company fights piracy, I was taken aback. 

"Today," he begins, "the majority of pirate attacks take place around the Horn of Africa. The pirates capture ships and hold the sailors for ransom – as a matter of fact there are now some 400 sailors being held hostage in Somalia under extremely primitive conditions. The pirates are careful that the hostages remain alive, for if not, the Western World would react with a large scale operation to eradicate piracy. They're not interested in war; they're interested in money."

How does The Draco Group secure vessels against piracy?

"The first step is prevention," Ariel begins. "That means securing the vessel so that it's not easy to board, and installing adequate technological systems that can offer enhanced capabilities to the team on board for detection of suspicious vessels. In this way, the crew can buy time and avoid confrontation. However, most important of all, we place onboard well-trained, disciplined and discreet security personnel, who know how to create a powerful deterrence and, if it becomes necessary, will fight the pirates. But the best deterrent is when the pirates see that the ship will not be an easy target."

WE'RE ALL DOING OUR PART

"Each person alive in this person has a responsibility to use his knowledge and capabilities to make a difference," Ariel explains. "For that reason, my posek told me to always carry a gun with me; since I am an expert marksman, I have a responsibility to use that knowledge, if necessary, to save Jewish lives."

How do you feel about the yeshivaH bachurim who don't serve in the Israeli Army?" I asked. Even as I worded the question, I felt as if I was walking on eggs.

Ariel immediately put me at ease. "There's really no distinction between a guy wearing a uniform and a guy in a black suit. To think otherwise is small minded. Not everyone should or can do the same thing. Each person has his own mission, and they should try to fulfill that mission. A person who joins the army just to pass his time is missing a golden opportunity to protect Am Yisrael and to save Jewish lives. Likewise, a person who warms the yeshivag bench while feeling relieved that he's not in the army, is missing the whole point of his learning. We all have to be warriors in whatever we do, and both aspects are crucial. In whatever you do, that is your mission for Am Yisrael. And you better be a commando at it!"

The author wishes to thank aish.com for allowing her to use some quotes from  one of their videos.