My midnight musings

It's 1:30 AM, and I'm sitting here on the computer, trying to write. It's not easy. Not because I have nothing to say. On the contrary, I have too much to say, and it's all just floating around in that mysterious black hole called my brain, and can't seem to organize itself. But I want to write, I need that feeling of release. So I'll give it a try.

When I was younger, the word 'danger' held no meaning for me. Someone tried explaning the definition, that some things, or places, were dangerous, meaning, I shouldn't do those things, or go to those places. But in my childish mind, I imagined a big barrier, with the word 'DANGER' emblazened on it in big bold letters, and when you crossed that line, you got zapped.

As a child, the world was so big, so vast. It was a confusing, scary place. There were grownups, who were supposed to protect you. Only, they didn't always do such a good job. As I grew up, I tried to make some sense out of all the confusion. I'm still trying, but I think now I have a better idea than I did then.

There were bullies, and there were nerds who got picked on. If you were weak, or quiet, you were in trouble. There were popular kids, and 'nebby' kids, to whom no one payed any attention. This was my world growing up. No one taught me the rules of the game. I was forced to learn it as I went along, and through experiance.

Somewhere along the way, I grew up. And I realized, the world is so over-rated. People make it out to be so much more than it really is. Through observation, I learnt that the 'popular' kids, weren't really that popular, and the bullies were dealing with their own insecurities.

I decided I was above playing the game. The world is made up of snobby rich 'popular' people, who decide what everyone else should be doing, saying, wearing, watching. And then they lead everyone around like sheep, exactly where they want them to go. Does this make any sense? Is anyone really thinking for themself, or just doing, jumping, because someone told them to jump?

Sometimes I feel like I'm above the rest of the world. Like I'm the only mature one left, and everyone else has lost their minds. I know that sounds very concieted of me, but if I'm wrong, let me know. If there is anyone out there, anyone at all, who considers themselves to be 'normal', contact me. We can be friends.

According to the world, 'normal' is no longer 'in'. Now, it's normal to be crazy, and crazy to be normal. Is that NORMAL??? No. The world has gone completely crazy. And I refuse to play this game any longer.

If someone tells you that red is 'in', why should you believe them? Is it nerdy to be chassidish? (sorry, I just had to throw that in there.) Does any of this make any sense?
No. Not at all.

The whole world is a narrow bridge. Just a narrow, narrow bridge. People are narrow minded, and don't think for themselves. They let others do the thinking for them. The level of smartness (if thats a word) has dropped so much in this society, its sad. Do people read anymore, learn anymore? Is anyone interested in educating a new generation, or are they all just selfish, worrying about their own needs? Their hair, their makeup, clothes, and shoes?
I don't know. You tell me.

And the main thing is not to worry...no, I think the main thing is to get out of this alive. And refuse to play the game. A game where the rules make no sense, and the only ones who will win it are the people who created it. It's not a game worth playing.

I'm starting my own game. Who's with me?

Final Destination

Seatbelt fastened for landing, I sit tightly in my seat, waiting for that final bump. The little jolt you get, that tells you that you are now on solid ground, back to reality. That you can longer fall out of the sky.

I'm here now, yes. But this is not my final destination. I go through security, and ask for directions. It is all a foreign language. This is not my country, or my people. I am a stranger here. Spanish is beautiful, but it is just not English. Plus, I don't speak it very well. (Ola, come estace? I think thats it.)

I get to the next gate. Another seat, another plane. Shorter now. Only an hour. But still, I am not where I am meant to be, where I want to be. My journy is a long one. I am tired, so tired, running on no sleep at all. I long for my bed, for a shower, for normal food.

But that is all to come. Because right now, I'm traveling. I'm on my way to my final destination, but I'm not there yet.

The one thing keeping me going, is the knowledge that this will all be over soon enough. That finally, after the last touchdown, and security checkpoint, I will be home, on familiar ground. Despite how tiring and tedious traveling is, I know it won't last forever.

Eight hour flight. I feel claustrophobic. Too many people, not enough space. I pace up and down the plane, but apparently the stewerdes's don't like that too much. I offer to help push the trolly. But no, they have enough people already.
I need to scream, or jump up and down. But in todays society, I will be instantly classidied as being mentally challenged, or such. So I restrain myself, but just barely.

I see a baby crawling down the isle, and I envy her lack of self consciousness. I wish to be able to do the same, but I'm not granted the freedom.

So I sit. I stand. I breath. I ask for a drink. I wrinkle my nose at the unidentifiable airline food. I question why they still bother to serve it, when most will go to the garbage anyway. And small children are starving in Africa... What a pity.

The movie is boring, the music sucks, and I need to get off the plane! I contimplate opening the emergency door. But I'm not that daring. I think about punching a hole in the glass window. But I'm scared of cutting myself, I hate bleeding.

I feel myself begin to hyperventilate. I never do that. So I stand up, I close my eyes, and I rock back and forth. I don't care what the passengers think of me. Let them think I'm crazy, for all I care. It has a soothing effect on me, calms me down.

I still wish for this trip to end. I want to get off the plane. But for now, I'm here. Soon, soon, I'll be there. So I deal, because I have to.

And finally, after another unidentifiable snack, all the regular anouncements about landing, the nausiating, free-falling decent, in which you feel like you are just falling out of the sky, they announce our landing in New York's JFK airport. Yes!!

So I'm here. Finally. I'm home. But you know what? It still feels like I'm traveling. Like this is just another stop on my journey.

And I realize that it is. I may be home now, for pesach. But soon, I'll be going back to Israel. I was just in Toronto for a visit. I'll be going somewhere for the summer IY''H. (No idea yet.) But in life, physically, we are always traveling, always going somewhere.

IY''H when I'm married, I'll have my own home, with my husband and kids, and hopefully not travel as much. I like consistancy, stability. We all do. Because with all the confusion that is called the world, we all need a place to crash at the end of the day, a place to call home. Somewhere that we feel comfortable, wanted, welcome.

As Jews, in golus, we have no such place. This is America, and I love it, for all its freedome, and pratriatism, and all the values it stands for. But is it home? No, not really. Who's to say that tomorrow, the president, or anyone for that matter, won't get up and demand that we leave? That Jews don't belong here? It's happened before, it could happen again. I pray to G-d that it doesn't, but it makes you realize, we shouldn't get too comfortable anywhere.

Israel, my home. No, not really. That zionistic state?? What is that? A state. I'm pretty sure in the Torah, G-d didn't tell Avraham, may your children be as numerous as the sand and stars, and they will inherit the 'state of Israel'. No, that's not what He said. I believe it was 'Eretz Yisroel.' A LAND. Our land.

'Hatikva', the israeli flag. Those are just attempts by people, Jews, who long to belong. They created an illussion, that now Jews have a place to call home, a place of their own.

But they fool themselves. G-d knows best. He didn't give us Israel yet, because now is not the time. Thats not to say, of course, that now that we have it, we should not protect it with our lives. They do, of course. There are many lives at stake, lives that are stupidly being put in danger, by a corrupt governmant, that wants to please everyone.

You can NEVER please everyone. So try to please the only one that counts. G-d.

We are homeless. We are in golus, we shouldn't be here. I long for a home, for a place to belong. I bed G-d for that day, when the world will be a peaceful place. When we will no longer be a sheep among the wolves. When stupid people won't give away land of ours, and kill our own people.

That day is yet to come. I have so many feelings, so many reactions. I'm mad at G-d, yes. At times, I question Him. Sometimes I don't understand it at all. I blame myself, my generation. Maybe we're not trying hard enough. We can be doing more, caring more.

But then I realize, it's just not here because G-d decided He didn't want to bring it yet. Bottem line. For whatever reason. Which means, maybe it has nothing to do with me at all. I don't know. I will never know. 'G-d works in mysterious ways'. Indeed. I will never understand Him.

But I know, with certainty, that this world, this horrible golus we are in, is only temporary. A journy, a road, that will lead to the next one. It is hard, it is long, but it is only a means to an end.

Final destination. We are almost there.

Facebook no longer

Thats it, I've done it. I closed down my facebook account. I feel so free, like my life is mine again, and not being sucked up by a computer.

There were various reasons why I did it. my friends looked at me like I was crazy. athey can't understand how I can survive without facebook. They try to convince me to reopen it. But I am firm in my decision. Don't worry, I tell them. It'll be how it was before I opened it. just make believe I never got facebook altogether. Apparently, they want all the pictures I put up, that they now have no access to.

I always say that Israelis waste a third of their life waiting at traffic lights. For some reason, they won't dare to cross on red. Well, American waste a third of their life on computers, surfing useless sights, such as facebook.

Everything in this world has potential, and can be used for good or bad. Shluchim, and lubavitchers, have found many ways to use the internet as a tool to bring Jews closer to yidishkeit, therefore elavating it.

Facebook can be used to connect with friends, keep in touch with people you would otherwise not talk to, and meet new people. Or ch''v the opposite. People use it to talk to guys, do things they shouldn't do, and otherwise waste their life.

I just got bored of it. It was just one more thing I had to check, and it was getting to be more of a burden than a help. For a while I was thinking of closing it down. Then my principal gave us a talk on the dangers of facebook, and how it can be harmful.

She pointed out that anything you put up, is there forever. even after you shut down your account. And even if you put yourself on private. Any proffessional hacker can find all the stuff you put up, and possibly use it against you.

All she said just gave me the extra push I needed. When I attempted to close down my account, facebook gave me a hard time. They showed me pictures of all my friends, and said they would all miss me. Then I had to give a reason for shutting down. I clicked on the 'waste of time' box. They proceeded to give me a 'solution' to my 'problem'. Then when I finally shut it down, they let me know that I was welcome back any time, and all I had to do was put in my old email adress and password, and it would be reactivated.

By that time, I was thinking it would be less of a hassle to just keep it open. Which would have made them happy. I talk about 'them' as if they are real people. It's a website, for G-d's sake! They are not capable of emotions, of 'missing' me. But they don't want to let me go.

This reminds me so clearly of the yetzer hara. He holds you tight in his poisenous tentacles, and refuses to let you go. He puts all types of stumbling blocks in your path, to tempt you, and make you fall.

And when you do rise above it, and decide to change, to be better, he laughs and says, don't worry, you'll be back. We are like old friends, you can't get rid of me.

You can get rid of him. It's just very hard. I did, for now at least. So I am facebook free. It was one small step, but a good one.

I'm a free woman now, and loving it!

Eat your words

Be very careful what you say, because someday, your words will come back to bite you.

I killed someone the other day. Not physically, of course. But killing through words is just as harsh as death. And the ironic thing is, I didn't kill the person I spoke badly about. I believe they were not effected at all.

But I was. I killed myself. The second the words were out of my mouth, I regreted saying them. But she heard, she knew I spoke about her. And I wanted to die, of shame.

They were silly words, that didn't mean anything. You let yourself go, for a second. You kvetch. And the damage is done. All it takes is a few words.

Words are like sweet honey that can boost the ego, and put a smile on someones face. Words are like poisenous arrows that can pierce the heart, and kill someone. It's up to you how to use them. Think before you speak.

We only have a certain amount of alloted words on this earth. At any time, an alarm can go off, and announce that you have used up your words, and just like that, you have lost your ability to speak. So why waste them on silly stuff?

Throw a pebble in the water and watch the ripple effect. Many little waves will spread outward from that one little action. Words are the same. Only, with words, you can never take them back. Once they are spoken, they will remain forever, in the air, and in someones heart.

'Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.' Wrong. So wrong. This little rhyme we used to say as kids, to protect our small hearts from getting hurt, didn't know what it was talking about. I always thought it should've said, 'sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will hurt me more. Words will hurt my heart, and possibly kill me.'

Every time I see her, I feel so bad. I regret what I said. I don't care that she walked into the room, that she heard what I said. But I'm ashamed that I said them at all. To think it is one thing. But to say it, is letting go. And I can't afford to let myself go.

Children look up to you. Friends value your opinion. People turn to you for advice. Your words have the power to make it or break it. Weigh them carefully, and think how it will sound to someone else.

Words have such potential. Use them wisely.

I don't want to go back

I'm on the bus going back. I don't want to go back, I want to stay here, with you. In this world, I am myself. I know who I am, and where I want to go. It feels so right here, like I belong.

Every time I go back, it's so hard for me to do what's right. There are two people fighting inside of me, trying to get the upper hand. And so many times, I let myself go, I fall. Because I forget.

When I am with you, there is no forgetting. Right and wrong is like black amd white. You do the right thing because you know that's what's expected of you. And because you want to, you know it's the only way.

In my world, there is so much grey. It's so easy to convince myself that what I'm doing is ok, that there won't be any consequences to my actions. But there is always consequences. If not from G-d, then from my conscience, eating me up inside.

So many times I question my decision. What if I didn't come here? What if I ended up somewhere else for the year? Would it have been easier for me to grow, to do the right thing?

But the question is null and void. To question a decision that was not mine is useless. Because this wasn't my decision. This was G-d's plan. I'm here because, for whatever reason, I supposed to be here.

It's not easy. When I see you, and your world, I long to be there. I have so many doubts, but when I'm with you, it all becomes so clear. When it's time to say goodbye, and go back to my world, I don't want to go. Because the second I step through the door, I forget. And I don't want to forget.

You told me to make a hachlata, a resolution, before I left. Just one thing, you said. All it takes is one small step at a time, to change. If you really want to change, you added. And I do, I truly do. If I let this year go by without any change, it would have been a waste of a year, and I can't do that to myself.

But I said goodbye, and we parted. And I didn't do what you said, I forget. But it's so much forgetfulness, as neglection. I didn't want to think about it, so it never happened. I left your world, and entered mine, and that was it. I was back.

I'm on the bus going back. I don't want to go back. I don't like what they have to offer me there. I'd much rather stay here, with you. It's easy here to do the right thing. But G-d put me there, where it's harder. He gave me a job to do. I don't know what it is, but I know I'm supposed to be there. And you will remain here, because this is where you're meant to be.

So I left. I'm back in my world now. I don't want to be here. Life is so confusing. I miss you, and your world. But G-d doesn't want me there. So I must go back.

Purim in the holy land- part 1

Ok, I've learnt a few things this purim. Firstly, no matter how much you prepare for it, you'll never be ready. Plan your shaloch manos weeks in advance, but you'll still be up all night packing them, and have to run back to the store 3 times for things you've missed.

Oh, and proven fact- you can survive on 2 hours of sleep. I've tried it. 

Costumes are not exclusively for kids- everyone should dress up. Another thing I've learned.

After baking all day on a fast day, (surprisingly, it made me less hungry, not more) ruining half the stuff I baked, hearing the migilla, breaking the fast, making a new batch of stuff, I was told I was a party pooper, and it didn't sit too well with me. I just wanted to take a shower and go to bed. 

But I told myself, it's purim, you gotta put on something. So I dragged out a few things, threw it together, and voila! A costume! Yay! The girls seemed to like it, so I think I did well.

Tel Aviv doesn't seem to celebrate purim. Weird. They're all looking at me  as if I'm the strange one. So I'm off to Bnei Brak, where the real fun is. And tomorrow, it's another full day of fun in Jeruselam. TWO days of purim??? Double the fun!

Hope you're all having a good one!! More tomorrow!

Joy that knows no bounds

As Jews, we have a commandmant to be happy constantly. 'Ivdu es Hashem b'simcha.' If you have to be serving G-d all the time, and while we do that we must be happy, then that means happiness at all times.

We recently had a class on laughing therapy. Imagine someone teaching you how to laugh. I thought he was joking. Apparently, he was. But not about the class. The whole class, he told jokes, and tried to get us to laugh. He taught us different types of laughter, which are real, and which ones are fake.

I listened with only one ear. Some of the jokes were funny. But the whole time I was thinking, how does he expect to teach us how to laugh? It's not possible. Either you are in a good mood, and you feel like smiling, or you don't. It's as simple as that. Or is it..?

Did you ever play the smiling game? You sit in a circle, usually with a bunch of kids, and one starts off with the 'smile' in his hand. He needs to smile, pull it off, then throw it to someone else. If you don't have the 'smile', you are not allowed to smile. Usually, five minutes into the game, all the kids are smiling, and gigling hysterically. Because a smile is catchy.

When the miraglim returned from spying on Israel, and reported bad news, the Jews cried. G-d told them, I'll give you a reason to cry. Thus, we have Tisha Ba'av. Sadness is just the absence of joy. just like darkness, it is not an entity on it's own. That's why we need a reason to be sad, whereas with joy, there doesn't have to be a reason. If a child is laughing and dancing, we don't question it. It's natural behavior.

What do we do when we are in a bad mood? We had a bad day, things are not going right, and all we seem to be able to do is frown. People try to cheer me up, but I don't want to smile. I want to sit here in the dark, being miserable, all by myself. The darkness is like a black hole. Literally. It sucks you in, until you can't get out.

When I am in a bad mood, it's hard to believe that it will soon pass, and that I will be happy once again. Once the bad mood passes, I can't remember why I was ever upset.

If it is true that we don't need a reason to be happy, then we should be happy all the time. Take your mind off your problem. Never dwell on it, that just makes it worse, gives it strength. Put on music, get outside, take a walk, breath in the fresh air, and smile.

There are so many reasons to smile. Thank G-d I am healthy. I have a loving family, and caring friends, and so many blessings that I forget at times.

>One erev Shabbos, I looked up at the sky, at the setting sun, and I felt to at peace with myself, with the world. The sky was turning gorgeous colors, and I thanked G-d for His wonderful creations.

Unfortunately, with all the problems in the world today, we do need a reason to be happy, to forget about all the pain and suffering. When a tragedy happens, it's hard to move on, to be happy again, to stop grieving. But that's what we must do, because G-d commanded us.

Once a year, on purim, we are commanded to be extra happy. To strip away our layers, let ourselves go, and just be b'simcha. It's not easy. Some people need a little wine to let themselves go. Or a mask. Hiding behind a mask does wonders to our personality. Try it. You feel like a stranger.

Just smile. Just be happy. We don't need a reason to be happy. It's free! Don't be like the Jews of long ago, and cry for no reason. We don't need to give G-d a reason for more suffering.

I wish everyone a VERY happy purim, filled with blessings, and joy. Use this day to it's fullest, take advantage of it. Push away the darkness, the sadness, let yourself go, and just be happy!

Drink a little, laugh a lot, put a smile on someone's face. And may we celebrate Purim this year together, in the beis hamikdash, with Moshiach, and lots of joy!!

Growing up

It's something that just happens. You can't plan it, prepare for it, or even wait for it. It comes when we least expect it, and most often, when we don't want it. But we have no choice. Sometimes, we just have to grow up.

I feel like I'm straddling a very fine line between being a little kid, who relies on her mother for everything, and being an adult, all on my own. No, I'll be an adult relying on my mother. But one day I just opened my eyes and realized, the world wants me to move on. And I am not ready.

Every time I open a newspaper or magazine, there are stories in there I'd rather not read. Incidences that I don't want to believe are true. But that is the world's problem. They deny it. The child inside me feels like screaming at the 'grownups', 'fix it!! What are you doing to make things better, to make it alright?'

I read articles about child rearing, about kids going off the derech, about child abuse, substance abuse, spouse abuse. Why??? Is this what the world has to offer me? I feel like asking, hmm, do you have anything else? Maybe there are some other choices besides this society? Maybe I just landed on the wrong universe, I really belong somewhere else.

It scares me. In a few years, IY''H, I'll be having my own kids. I don't really want to bring them into this society, to see all the garbage of the world. What's the solution? Live in a little box? protect yourself, and your kids, and stay far away from people who are harmful, and bad?

But I am lubavich. As a chossid, we have to live outside the box, we need to be there for other people, be an example for the world. There is always an exception to the rule. I hope I am one of them. I feel like telling the world, don't worry, I'll be fine. I'm different, those things won't happen to me.

And I hope to G-d that they won't. I want to go on shlichus someday, and help people, spread a little bit of light in a dark world. I need G-d, and I need the Rebbe's brachos to help me survive.

Because I've finally grown up. And it's a scary thing.

Please knock first

She came barging in without knocking. She was a bundle of energy, talking a mile a minute, while my sluggish brain struggled to comprehend what she was saying.

I was sitting here because I wanted to be alone, and she was disturbing me.

I have a recollection of when I was a young kid. My older sister was sleeping, and I wanted to double check, in case she was faking it, just because she didn't want to play with me. So I lifted her eyelids, and saw she was indeed sleeping. Then I ran away, before she could wake up.

Thats what I felt like now. Like she was exposing me to a bright light, making me very vulnerable.

''So why are you sitting here all by yourself? Go join the party!"

She was talking to me. I didn't want her to.

"Because", I mumbled. What I really wanted to say was, mind your own bussiness. I have free choice, I can sit here if I want to. And juat by the way, if you noticed I'm sitting here by myself, maybe theres a reason for it, meaning, I don't want you here!

But I didn't say that, I kept quiet. I didn't need her thinking I was a mean person, in addition to being a loner, which she already must think of me.

"You know what your problem is?"

No. please tell me. (Trying not to sound sarcastic.)

"You think too much." (She may have a point there.) "You walk into a party and see you don't know anyone there, and you don't like the music, and you'd rather be home, so you go outside to get a moment to breath, and then you never go back in."

Right. She hit it on the spot. Thats me in a nutshell. Who is this girl anyway? I don't even know her name. I ask her that.

"Oh, silly me, I havn't introduced myself. (She says a name. It flies right by me. I still don't know who she is.)

"I'm gonna be a psychologist when I grow up."

Ya, that explains it.

I try explaining that I'm feeling fine, I just wanted some fresh air. She persists. She wants to know whats wrong with me. Her Dad is a Dr., her Mom a homeopath, she knows all about everything. By know I know her whole lifestory, and I still have no idea who she is, or what she's doing here.

"You look sad. Are you upset about something? you can tell me."

Ya well I'm not going to.

She prattled on for a while longer, but I just tuned her out. After a while she got the hint and walked away.

Ok, now I have a headache. I feel like someone just took a hammer and smashed it on my head.

This situation happens all too often. 'Well meaning' people ask questions, when they are not welcome.

But worse is when they ask, for no reason at all.

Sometimes I have a bad day. What I really need is for someone to ask me how I feel, and what happened. But people ask and don't really mean it.

"Oh hey, whats up, how are you?"

"Hi, I'm-" She's already half way down the block. her question didn't require a response.

Always say what you mean. But more importantly, mean what you say. If you ask someone how they are, stop and think about what you are saying. Make sure you mean it, and listen for the response.

If you don't really mean it, don't bother asking.

There are some people who are 'naturally curious' about others. In other words, they are nosy. They like to know the who what where when why, the ins and outs of other people's lives. Maybe it makes them feel better about their own life when they see how miserable someone else's life is. They poke around, they ask questions, they pry.

Maybe they do have good intentions. But they didn't stop to think about how it would be recieved by the person they are inquiring.

Sometimes I feel like hanging a sign on my forehead. "Do not disturb".

There's no nice way to say 'mind your own bussiness.' So I say it as nicely as I can.

Please knock first. And if theres no reponse, don't knock again.

Just DO it

They pull at my heartstrings. They follow me wherever I go. Somehow they know where to find me. And they are silent. Their words are unnecessary, for their eyes do the talking.

They say that eyes are the window to the soul. Well, their soul talks to my soul, and my heart bleeds at what I see there. I want to cry, because it hurts me. I want to scream at G-d, because of the injustice of it all. My hand reaches towards my pocket, hesitates- and then I walk away.

You know what I'm talking about because you've seen them too. They are everywhere. On street corners, in the mall, on sidewalks. Some look clean and put together, while others seem to have all their life's possessions in a bundle by their feet, and look like they havn't eaten in days.

Some people avert their eyes, and rush by as if they didn't see them at all. Unfortunatly, because there are so many of them, we have become immune to them, and people really don't notice they are there. Other people do stop and give something, a coin or two.

I see them. Even if I avert my eyes, I see them because they are hard to miss.

There's a picture in front of me of Rabbi Nachman M'Breslov. He has his hands up in the air, palms out, as if begging us to do teshuva. When I see beggers, this is what I see. They may be sitting there quietly, but in my mind they are screaming and crying for me to help them. How can I turn them away? How can I abandon them in their time of need?
'Simple', a voice inside me answers. 'Just walk away.'

And sometimes I do. on a day when my conscience allows me, I mumble something about not having any change on me, trying not to think about the fat hundreds sitting in my wallet. In the space of two seconds, a battle is being fought in my head. 'Well I don't really want to break up a bill. Plus, I already gave tzedaka this morning before davening. So really I'm not a bad Jew, I already did my part.' One side has won.

And then I can go on my merry way, with a clear conscience, reassuring myself that I'm a good person, and I'm not going to go to hell, contrary to what the lady was screaming after me as I walked away.

But it does hurt me. Because I have, and they don't. At the end of the day, I have a warm bed to go back to, with food, and clothes, and even extra things. While these people are not as fortunate as I am. Some don't have homes, and resort to sleeping on park benches. Some have families to support, small childrern who are hungry and have no food. They wait to see what their father will bring them at the end of the day. They rely on him for their livelyhood, and due to certain circumstances, he relies on good people like you and me for his livelyhood.

By giving him money, you are putting food into his mouth, keeping him alive. By not giving him, you are potentially killing him. With that thought in mind, how can you not give?

When I stick my hand in my pocket to take out money, they sense it. I have in mind to give only one person, but suddenly twelve pairs of eyes are staring at me, watching my every move.

Do I have to give everone? Do I have to empty my pockets and give them all I have because they need it and I don't?

I don't know.

I question G-d, and the system he created. In an ideal world, everyone would have enough, whatever they need. There would be no rich people, or poor. We would all have an equal amount. There would be no mitzvah to give tzedakah, because no one would have a need, no one would be lacking. Just one less mitzvah, 612. Imagine that.

It was tried before. It didn't work. In Russia, one man got up and tried to make everyone equal. They had a slogen: "All men are created equal". But some are more equal then others. There are always those who want more. They aren't happy being comfortable. They want to be filthy rich, rolling in money. And they don't want to be 'equal'. They want to be better, or they feel inferier.

G-d was right. He is always right. If everyone was equal, the world would be a boring place. Rich people would have nothing to do all day, and they wouldn't be able to give away millions of dollors to charity, and feel good about themselves.

So G-d made levels. Those that have, and those that don't. Those that need, and those that give. He gave us a commandment to give, and left it up to us to even things out, for the rich to make sure the poor are provided for.

Poor people are not exempt from this mitzvah, merely because they don't have anything, and rely on others. And I am not a rich person. At times, I to rely on others for money. So does it make sense that we all have an equal commandment?

G-d commanded me to give, so thats what I must do. At the end of the day, its not up to me to worry if others are doing their job or not. I didn't make the rules, I just play by them. I need to give as much as I can, and not worry about the rest. To what extent do I have to give? I don't know.

'But what if the person doesn't really need the money?' I've heard this question many times before, and it bothers me. People have told me, 'you shouldn't give to this person because they are not Jewish/ they don't really need the money/ they use it for drugs.

I ask them how they know that. And if its true, who are you to judge them? Who am I to decide if this person is worthy of my money or not? I need to give because G-d told me to, and thats it. G-d put this person in my path for a reason. And if they don't really need the money, just the fact that they are lowering themself to beg shows that they need it in whatever way.

I don't have all the answers, but I know one thing.

You may not have money to give, but you have the ability to feel. If you become immune to someone in pain, someone who needs your help, then in truth, you are worse off then them.

If you walk by a begger and don't give him money, thats between you and G-d. But if your conscience doesn't bother you, if your heart doesn't hurt for them, even a little bit, because f their plight, then you have a problem.

Purim is coming up. now is the time to think about someone else, other than yourself. Open your hand and your heart, and just give.

Shimshon Stock, z''l, used to sit outside his house on purim, with his infamous black box, collecting money for families in need. He had a well known saying: 'Take out your wallet, take out a dollar, and give me the rest.'

Shimshon's holy soul was taken from us on purim, two years ago. He cared so much about other people, and G-d ironically chose to take him on this happy day. He was a very special person, and though I didn't know him that well, I miss him, because there is one less good soul in the world.

I'm sure this purim he'll be sitting up there, laughing and celebrating, and keeping an eye on his black box, watching it fill up with money.

I walk by someone less fortunate then I am. Their eyes follow me, their heart talks to my heart. I hurt inside, and I want to help them. I want to give everyone, to eliminate all suffering from this earth. But I know that isn't possible. So I give as much as I can, and hope that I have done my part.

Give, because G-d commanded you to. Give, because they need it. Give, because it makes you feel good. There are many reasons why we should give.

But remember one thing. If you stop giving, or feel you can't give, never stop caring, never stop feeling. Because the second your heart turns away, the second we stop hurting for others, I question, what has the world come to? How have we fallen so low?

Open your pockets, open your hearts, and give.

Just DO it.