Dei'ah veDibur - Information & Insight

A Window into the Chareidi World

24 Cheshvan 5760 - November 3, 1999 | Mordecai Plaut, director Published Weekly








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Three Tears By the Well...
Translated by S. W. from Kol Chotzev, a biography of R' Sholom Schwadron zt'l, with permission of the author

In the Jerusalem of yore there was not much room for children to play. No playgrounds. And no toys to speak of, either. Youngsters used to give vent to their exuberant, youthful energies by running around the well. They were brimming with vitality, those clever, very picquant children of Jerusalem.

Urei Betuv Yerusholayim
Who is Like Your People?

by A. Reader

One day, in one of the chariedi neighborhoods, the bus came very late and the impatient driver just told passengers to get on without paying. This was not unusual; they would pay when they got off and the bus was emptier.

An Act of Chessed - Pass it On
by Menucha Levin

Seven years ago, with all the innocence and hope of newcomers, we attempted to buy our first apartment in Israel. This experience, looking back on it now, was not very different from two other major life events: planning our wedding and having our first child...

Mashiv Horuach

by A. Ross

Still no rain. Not enough rain. Everybody was talking about rain. Elisheva's father, who grew sunflowers, declared that at this rate, by the end of the month, his whole crop would be ruined. Not enough rain.

Your Medical Questions Answered!
by Joseph B. Leibman, MD

Rabbi P. asks how in medicine do we know what is "true?"

Since all humans differ from one another, it's hard to speak in terms of a treatment that will help everyone. Doctors start with a hypothesis, that is, an idea that seems to make sense. They then test it rigorously by comparing it with standard or no therapy to see if it's any better...

Feeling Your Oats - Oatmeal, as Bubby (I) Made It

by Yaffa Shepsel

Oats, or `quaker', as the Israelis call it, gets its Hebrew name after the round cardboard Quaker Oats container depicting the `chossid', pardon me, Puritan Quaker, holding a box of Quaker Oats, with a Quaker holding a smaller box with a Quaker holding a smaller box... you remember the picture?

Poet's Corner
by Menucha Levin

I was feeling ill the other day,
And longed for my mother, far away.
If only she could comfort me,
And cheer me up with a cup of tea.
But then I saw amidst my gloom,
My little girl come in the room.
She tiptoed softly to my bed,
And placed her small hand on my head,
"I'm sorry, Mommy, that you're sick,
I'll pray that you will get well quick."
And then I saw to my surprise,
My mother's love in my daughter's eyes.

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