Such a sweet boy, only five. He comes back from preschool full of experiences, sometimes he remembers to hang his schoolbag in its place and sometimes not, then hurries to tell about what the teacher gave out and what he played with his friends…
Your wonderful girl, almost twelve. In school they are energetically getting ready for the bas mitzvah party…
The bachur who went to an out-of-town mesivta, you are in daily contact with him, and miss him….
What will our children be like in a few years?
Today we put our heart and soul into them. We take good care of them, shower them with good words and encouragement, follow their educational and emotional development…
What will be with them further down the line? What will they be like when they are teenagers? What kind of homes will they establish?
There are so many dangers lying in wait for our children! They face so many challenges daily, new temptations, nisyonos that we are not familiar with…
Raising children who are yerei Shamayim is not something you can take for granted. Not at all.
The Gedolei Hador tell us exactly what we need to do in order to protect them. In order that they should have love and fear of Hashem.
If we grant life to the children of Vaad Harabbanim, Hakadosh Baruch Hu will grant life to our children!
“I didn’t bring it!!!” yelled Tzviki, his eyebrows pinching together in anger. He didn’t look at the shocked rebbe who only asked him if he has the textbook for the dinim shiur already. The hole in his sock was hurting his big toe and the taste of the bare slice of bread he ate for breakfast was still in his mouth. “I didn’t bring a kitzur shulchan aruch because I don’t have one!!!”
His friends, well-cared-for children who eat cornflakes and biscuits and come to yeshiva with new shoes at the beginning of every season, quietly chuckled.
The rebbe put his hand on the shoulder of the fuming child. “Go outside, Tzviki. Wait for me next to the teachers’ room.”
But Tzviki didn’t wait next to the teachers’ room. He went out to the back courtyard of the yeshiva, climbed the fence, and went out to the street.
He was roaming the streets in circles and voices were raging inside him. He passed by stores exuding tantalizing aromas and he swallowed his saliva longingly. He is truly a hungry child. His mother is a tzaddekes who was not born Jewish, and his father is chronically ill. He lives in the kind of poverty you read about in stories.
Yesterday the landlord knocked on the door again and requested, pleaded, for them to pay up the debt. “You can’t go on living here like this,” he stated. “You must move out by the end of the month or pay up all the back rent you owe for the year.”
A year’s rent! His face burns when he recalls this. There is no way in the world they can pay that.
So where will they go? What will they do?
The pressure is too much for him. He is only eleven. The repeated requests from the yeshiva office for tuition payment add fire to the fears raging inside him.
Is it any surprise that problems develop? Tzviki is as irritable as can be. He gets mad at everyone. He can’t manage the existential fear that grips him. The yeshiva administration makes his continued participation in classes conditional on receiving emotional therapy.
“Maybe the health plan covers it…” his mother is trembling as she speaks with his rebbe. “I will check.”
She checks, and they explain to her that emotional therapy is covered by the enhanced health plan, and she will have to be a paying member of the enhanced plan for half a year before she can take advantage of it.
In the meantime, Tzviki is waiting at home, frustrated and bitter. And his mother is sad and cries to Hashem to save them. His siblings are also longing for nutritious food and a stable home. They are older and sense the vast difference between their home and other homes.
Hakadosh Baruch Hu also waits for us, to be the good messengers who will save the family of the tzaddekes who converted to Yiddishkeit, and thereby bring a brocho to our own family.
The Gedolei Hador ask of us to help pay tuition for the children of Vaad Harabbanim, and they promise that our children will see success in their own studies! Thanks to us, Tzviki and thousands of other children will be able to learn, relaxed and satiated. And, midah k’neged midah, the Gedolei Torah bless our children that Hashem will “implant in their hearts desire for learning and hasmadah and yiras Shamayim!”
This is the biggest gift we can give our children.
For thousands of children of Vaad Harabbanim, every day is full of its own stress. Will Tateh feel okay and get up in the morning to daven? Will Mameh come back from the hospital, or will she remain hospitalized? Will their special brother be calm today, or will he throw a fit again and break things?
There are children who were born into problems.
There are other children who were fortunate enough to live completely normal lives, tranquil and full of light, until one evening when their father didn’t return.
Peninah squinted. The light from the hallway was too strong, and she heard strange sounds coming from the living room. She looked at the pink clock that Tateh bought for her as a Pesach gift: it is 2:30 AM! What was all that noise? Why weren’t they sleeping?
She gets up, straightens out her cute butterfly pajama, and goes squinting out to the living room.
She will never be able to forget this moment.
Mameh was standing there, terribly red and crying without break. Her older brothers, who were home for bein hazemanim and filled the home with a happy spirit, were also whimpering. The married brothers and sisters were all there, crying.
Only Tateh was nowhere in sight.
“What happened?” Peninah shouted, hysterical. She ran to Mameh, pulled up close to her. “Mameh, tell me, why are you crying?”
Mameh embraced her and kept on crying. The tears dripped down on Peninah’s combed hair, and she cried too, without knowing why.
That evening their father was on his way home from a meeting of the chesed organization that he volunteers for, and on the side of the road, his heart stopped. That’s how passersby found him, hanging over the steering wheel, lifeless.
The shivah passed by like a bad dream. The house was full of people, and everyone who came in cried just from seeing these young yesomim, who don’t have a Tateh until Mashiach comes. A little four-year-old who will not remember Tateh, a first-grade girl, boys in yeshivah…
There are tragedies that are hard to imagine. What will a fresh almanah with sixteen children do, when only five of them were fortunate enough to have their Tateh there to bring them to the chuppah? How will she continue to raise them alone?
Also these yesomim need us, together with hundreds of other yesomim of Vaad Harabbanim. Our donation will buy them clothes, pay for tutors and dental treatment and glasses and food for Shabbos and money for the class trip. Our donation will enable the father or the mother to be there more for the children, to smile to a child suffering from pangs of longing and to give him a hug.
“And they will not know pain and suffering all their lives” – so the Gedolei Hador state in a special letter to the donors. They are going up the to tomb of the Shelah Hakadosh on the day of special segulah, Erev Rosh Chodesh Sivan, and are davening that we should have “Abundant and easy parnassah, proper shidduchim and everything they need!”
This is the time to donate generously to Vaad Harabbanim and reap the infinite benefits of the Tefilah of the Gedolei Hador for your children and offspring on the day of special segulah, Erev Rosh Chodesh Sivan, at the place of special segulah, the tomb of the Shelah Hakadosh, who will the nusach of special segulah, composed by the Shelah himself for this very day.
Your children, and those of all Klal Yisrael, need Divine protection and assistance. And you can give it to them.