Slice of Life

The State of Israel is known as “the start-up nation.”  The OurCrowd Global Investor Summit, which took place in Jerusalem last week, made it abundantly clear why Israel was given that name.  OurCrowd, founded in 2013 by CEO Jon Medved, is a global investment platform through which investors throughout the world invest in start-ups.  It has grown into the world’s leading online venture investing platform. While it is a super-impressive creation in its own right, the fact that it is centered in Jerusalem and provides, directly and indirectly, so many high-quality prestigious jobs to Israelis is a point of great pride to me.

Beit Shemesh is a frequent destination for many who make aliyah to Israel. But this past summer, we were honored by the arrival of a special olah chadashah, a new immigrant. Judy Neiman, a resident of Florida, made aliyah to Beit Shemesh at the age of 100. I had the pleasure of speaking with Judy, along with her son and daughter-in-law, who are thrilled to have Judy living with them in their home. I was touched by the love that they clearly feel for Judy and was awed by their dedication to meeting her every need.

Jonny and Gina Kirsch, residents of Beit Shemesh and safety enthusiasts, have done it again! They recently inaugurated the Janet and Stephen Kirsch Safety Center, the first of its kind in Israel, and possibly in the world.  This mobile center, operated by “Safety Israel,” contains home and garden settings that are erected and dismantled as they move from one school and neighborhood to the next throughout the country, teaching children basic rules of safety. The center aims to teach children to navigate everyday hazards in familiar and comfortable places by simulating real dangers in a safe learning environment. 

It’s been a rough week. When I checked the news on Motza’ei Shabbos, I had to do a double-take. Seven innocent people, a 14-year-old among them, were murdered in Neve Yaakov in cold blood on Friday night. Several others were wounded. It reminded me of the Mercaz HaRav Massacre in 2008, when eight students of the yeshivah were shot to death by a lone terrorist. I recall staring at my computer screen thinking there must be something terribly wrong with my computer. The words I was reading and the images I was seeing couldn’t possibly reflect reality.

Winter has arrived in Israel.  There was a cold day last week and it’s also the last week of January, so we call it winter.  With Beit Shemesh reaching 73 degrees this past Friday, it’s time to bundle up.  But seriously, in our town, it usually drops into the 50s or 40s in the evenings, and this winter season has brought with it a slew of viruses: Covid, flu, stomach, and whatever else.  I, myself, have been under the weather for a week already with a runny nose, aches, and barely a remnant of my voice. I’m so sorry to have to say this but those of you who were thinking about tracking down my phone number and calling me to tell me how much you enjoy my column will now have to wait. Talking, which is usually an enjoyable activity, is not fun at all right now.  It’s not even an activity.  And the fact that nobody can hear me causes frustration for all involved: me - the unable to talker - and everyone else - the unable to hearers. But what can I do?  When I get a nasty cold, it usually goes straight for the jugular. Literally.  And my voice goes into hiding.

At the age of 19, Chavie* was in her second year of college, working hard at school, happily spending her free time with friends and family, and generally living a life typical of girls her age. A little over nine years ago, during the period of the Yamim Nora’im, Chavie’s life took an unexpected sharp turn.