The Essence of Evil

If you were to stare evil in the eye, what would you see? What would be its character traits? What would form its origins?

More Matzah, Anyone?

Is there anything from the Festival of Freedom—other than the unwanted extra pounds from those multi-coursed late night meals—that should invigorate us for the remainder of the year and for the weeks ahead?

Small Victories

Though just a young child, Batsheva was well aware that in the Soviet Union, government-run schools were breeding grounds for indoctrinating its unsuspecting students in the communist philosophy. Remaining a religious Jew in a climate of such open hostility would be extremely difficult for young Batsheva...

Fall-Outs

She is my three-year-old in one of the ordinary and countless stumbles of her little every day life. But don't we all fall? And don't we yearn for an empathetic embrace, a hug or a word of encouragement?

Sunset

Beneath us was a shadow of absolute blackness, but ahead was a fiery ball, a breathtaking combination of blood reds and seething oranges, casting lighter shades of pinks and mauves around the outward edges of its sphere...

Toil

If the point of our work is in its completion, if the beautiful end result is our sought-after goal, why, then, at its completion, isn't our satisfaction enduring? Chana Weisberg muses on the role of creativity in our life, and our world.

The Flashing Lights in my Rear View Mirror

The sight of neon red lights flashing in the car's rear view mirror is enough to make even the strongest of stomachs queasy.

As the police car pulls up, I admit that my initial thought is whether fleeing is an option. But as I come to my senses, I assess what I could possibly have done wrong—how fast was I driving, did I come to a full stop, did I signal as I swerved into the other lane, and how can I get my seat belt buckled without the officer noticing…to finally, how much is this going to cost me?

But that Thursday afternoon, as I sighted the flashing red lights, I could've leapt for joy.
The sight of neon red lights flashing in the car's rear view mirror is enough to make even the strongest of stomachs queasy.

We were en route to the airport; I, to catch a flight for a speaking engagement. We were but a few miles short of our destination; traffic was smooth, and being that I hate the feel of sweaty palms and a heart beat