Support Yad L'Shuv
Stories of Achievement
Arie and Dina, recent baalei teshuvah were living far from any Jewish, let alone Torah observant community. As a medical doctor working for a rural community hospital in the Northern Mid-West, there was no way for them to relocate to a Jewish community any time soon. They were self-taught in every sense of the word. At a certain point in their Jewish development realized they were stuck. Having few, if any, Jewish resources readily available, they decided that they either would need to abandon their hopes of becoming Orthodox or find an outlet, a sponsor as it were, to take them by the hand and help them integrate into a Torah observant lifestyle despite the limitations of their current living situation. Dina reached out to The Yad L'Shuv Foundation for advocacy and mentorship. We invited them to call our office as frequently as they like for encouragement. Meanwhile, we found them a mentor in a city with a large Orthodox population. They speak frequently. Arie and Dina have been taken into their mentor family like family. Now for the Yomim Tovim Arie and Dina have a family to go to, a family that teaches them by example how to keep a kosher home, how to make a Shabbos and Yom Tov meal, and how the inside of a Torah true home looks and feels.
Mendy and Sarah were burned out from the kiruv system. After spending extensive time in a baal teshuvah yeshiva and seminary. Neither Mendy nor Sarah had employable qualifications or experience; furthermore, the rabbaim and rebbetzins they established close relationships with were no longer easily available for advice. The people and institutions who were makariv them were "on to the next people" at the exclusion of Mendy and Sarah. Mendy and Sarah felt hurt. Without careers or direction, and with a lot of anger and resentments towards the kiruv institutions, they weren't sure why they became frum and they weren't sure if they would remain frum. They reached out to the Yad L'Shuv Foundation. Our experienced counselors listened to them and validated their pain. We then matched them up with mentors who understood what they were going through. Their mentors became the surrogate family that helped them through their crisis until it passed. Now Mendy is enrolled in a graduate school program while Sarah works from the home.
Jean, a recent convert to Judaism, was unfortunately dropped like a ton of bricks after her conversion. She was alone in a large city. She did not have any friends or family to rely on. Not knowing how to kasher her kitchen, but knowing it was not kosher and hence could not be used, she ate only cold food for the first two weeks of her being Jewish. Her neighbors reached out to the Yad L'Shuv Foundation for assistance on her behalf. We quickly found a local rabbi able to come in and kasher her kitchen. More importantly, we paired her up with Shoshana Klein, a mentor who has truly become a surrogate sister to Jean. Jean now has a home to go to for Shabbos meals, she and Shoshana go shopping together and out for coffee together. Jean is part of every Klein family simcha. Now Shoshana is working on finding a shidduch for Jean and walking her to her chuppah.
A geyores of many years called the Yad L'Shuv Advocacy Hotline. She divorced several years ago and is now alone and unemployed. She is marginalized and frightened. She called for advocacy. We provided her a lawyer to answer her legal questions pro-bono. We then sent her to a Rav to answer her halachic questions. Several months passed and she called back for further advocacy. Under the circumstances there was nothing we could do for her. Our counselor felt badly that there was no assistance that could be offered. Suddenly the caller exclaimed, "I have an idea!" The idea was brilliant and easy to implement. After speaking it out, the caller thanked our counselor profusely for being there and listening. She said, "I'm incredibly self-sufficient, but sometimes I just need someone to speak things out with. Thank you for being there."
Mendy and Sarah were burned out from the kiruv system. After spending extensive time in a baal teshuvah yeshiva and seminary. Neither Mendy nor Sarah had employable qualifications or experience; furthermore, the rabbaim and rebbetzins they established close relationships with were no longer easily available for advice. The people and institutions who were makariv them were "on to the next people" at the exclusion of Mendy and Sarah. Mendy and Sarah felt hurt. Without careers or direction, and with a lot of anger and resentments towards the kiruv institutions, they weren't sure why they became frum and they weren't sure if they would remain frum. They reached out to the Yad L'Shuv Foundation. Our experienced counselors listened to them and validated their pain. We then matched them up with mentors who understood what they were going through. Their mentors became the surrogate family that helped them through their crisis until it passed. Now Mendy is enrolled in a graduate school program while Sarah works from the home.
Jean, a recent convert to Judaism, was unfortunately dropped like a ton of bricks after her conversion. She was alone in a large city. She did not have any friends or family to rely on. Not knowing how to kasher her kitchen, but knowing it was not kosher and hence could not be used, she ate only cold food for the first two weeks of her being Jewish. Her neighbors reached out to the Yad L'Shuv Foundation for assistance on her behalf. We quickly found a local rabbi able to come in and kasher her kitchen. More importantly, we paired her up with Shoshana Klein, a mentor who has truly become a surrogate sister to Jean. Jean now has a home to go to for Shabbos meals, she and Shoshana go shopping together and out for coffee together. Jean is part of every Klein family simcha. Now Shoshana is working on finding a shidduch for Jean and walking her to her chuppah.
A geyores of many years called the Yad L'Shuv Advocacy Hotline. She divorced several years ago and is now alone and unemployed. She is marginalized and frightened. She called for advocacy. We provided her a lawyer to answer her legal questions pro-bono. We then sent her to a Rav to answer her halachic questions. Several months passed and she called back for further advocacy. Under the circumstances there was nothing we could do for her. Our counselor felt badly that there was no assistance that could be offered. Suddenly the caller exclaimed, "I have an idea!" The idea was brilliant and easy to implement. After speaking it out, the caller thanked our counselor profusely for being there and listening. She said, "I'm incredibly self-sufficient, but sometimes I just need someone to speak things out with. Thank you for being there."
Stories of Loss
Moshe was my roommate when I first arrived in Yeshivah. A sweet young man with an unfortunate mental illness. He was introduced to Yiddishkeit by a local kiruv worker. To the kiruv worker's great credit he was very involved with Moshe and his family, so much so that Meir's immediate family was initially supportive of his becoming frum. Then Moshe went off to Yeshiva in Eretz Yisroel. Similar to myself, Moshe was blessed with a severe learning disability, one that made it very difficult, cumbersome, and tedious to gain the learning skills necessary to make headway in the sea of Talmud, a learning disability that limited his "success" in learning. The kiruv worker who introduced Moshe to Yiddishkeit, along with his mother, encouraged him to return to the United States, so as to marry, raise a family, find a steady job, and live the life of a simple, praiseworthy Torah true Yid. But by that time it was too late. The yeshiva was adamant that Moshe stay, they insisted that eventually he'd make a "breakthrough," that all the pieces would fall into place and then he would be ready to marry. They felt that to make such a move before then would be premature and lead to inevitable misery. The yeshiva prevailed and Moshe stuck it out for numerous years. He eventually left back for home, depressed that he'd invested so many formative years in learning and having never made the “breakthrough” and proven himself a success he believed he would never be suitable for marriage. Shortly after his return to the States, he gave up Yiddishkeit entirely. Needless to say, I miss Moshe greatly.
Avraham converted to Judaism through the involvement of the same Rav who was mekarev me, my dear friend and teacher, Rabbi Tzvi Mandel of Boro Park. Originally from rural, quaint Tennessee. Avraham couldn't have been more out-of-place than in big city Boro Park. Avraham was good natured and sported a big heart but was socially awkward in his new environment and lifestyle. One Shabbos morning as he sat down to daven at the neighborhood shul he took a liking to, the mean hearted fellow sitting next to him said, "Abraham, there's no goyim allowed here." Granted, there are mean hearted people in the world, but where were the good hearted people who should have stuck up for Reb Avraham? Shamefully, they were not to be found. Eventually Avraham was redt a shidduch with a mentally ill woman with several children and together they moved to Eretz Yisroel. Constantly berated by his mentally ill wife, and unable to find employment in his field, one day Avraham picked up and left. The story has it that his wife called him on his cell phone to tell him that he left his teffilin at home, to which he replied, "I'm at the airport and I won't be needing them anymore." That was the last time Avraham was heard from.
Joan comes from a simple blue-collar family in middle America. She is a frequent caller on the Yad L'Shuv Foundation's Talk-Line. She has been frum for well over twenty years and is, B"H successfully raising a family of bnei Torah in a major Jewish community. The only problem is that Joan feels lonely. She's had many rich and interesting experiences, most of which are of an instructive nature that enhance her emunah and bitachon. However, she feels these experiences separate her in a negative way from her close-knit group of neighbors. Although the women in her community are nice to her, because she's different, she senses a distance, she knows she'll never fit-in and be “one of them.” Although glad she made the decision to become a frum Yid, Joan grapples with the prospect of living a life full of loneliness, isolation, and sadness. Her story is one of many similar stories that come to the Talk-Line on an all too regular basis.
Jeffery had developed a very close relationship with the kiruv rav who introduced him to Torah observance. After leaving the university program he was in he went to study in Yeshiva in Israel for several years. Upon returning to the U.S, Jeffery's rosh yeshivah no longer had time to answer his calls; while the young kiruv rav whom he had grown close to while in university was no longer in kiruv and not in a position to maintain a relationship with Jeffery. Feeling alone, abandoned, and betrayed, Jeffery accepted an invitation to live with his non-religious friends. Shortly thereafter, Jeffery abandoned the Torah observant lifestyle he had previously embraced.
Moshe was my roommate when I first arrived in Yeshivah. A sweet young man with an unfortunate mental illness. He was introduced to Yiddishkeit by a local kiruv worker. To the kiruv worker's great credit he was very involved with Moshe and his family, so much so that Meir's immediate family was initially supportive of his becoming frum. Then Moshe went off to Yeshiva in Eretz Yisroel. Similar to myself, Moshe was blessed with a severe learning disability, one that made it very difficult, cumbersome, and tedious to gain the learning skills necessary to make headway in the sea of Talmud, a learning disability that limited his "success" in learning. The kiruv worker who introduced Moshe to Yiddishkeit, along with his mother, encouraged him to return to the United States, so as to marry, raise a family, find a steady job, and live the life of a simple, praiseworthy Torah true Yid. But by that time it was too late. The yeshiva was adamant that Moshe stay, they insisted that eventually he'd make a "breakthrough," that all the pieces would fall into place and then he would be ready to marry. They felt that to make such a move before then would be premature and lead to inevitable misery. The yeshiva prevailed and Moshe stuck it out for numerous years. He eventually left back for home, depressed that he'd invested so many formative years in learning and having never made the “breakthrough” and proven himself a success he believed he would never be suitable for marriage. Shortly after his return to the States, he gave up Yiddishkeit entirely. Needless to say, I miss Moshe greatly.
Avraham converted to Judaism through the involvement of the same Rav who was mekarev me, my dear friend and teacher, Rabbi Tzvi Mandel of Boro Park. Originally from rural, quaint Tennessee. Avraham couldn't have been more out-of-place than in big city Boro Park. Avraham was good natured and sported a big heart but was socially awkward in his new environment and lifestyle. One Shabbos morning as he sat down to daven at the neighborhood shul he took a liking to, the mean hearted fellow sitting next to him said, "Abraham, there's no goyim allowed here." Granted, there are mean hearted people in the world, but where were the good hearted people who should have stuck up for Reb Avraham? Shamefully, they were not to be found. Eventually Avraham was redt a shidduch with a mentally ill woman with several children and together they moved to Eretz Yisroel. Constantly berated by his mentally ill wife, and unable to find employment in his field, one day Avraham picked up and left. The story has it that his wife called him on his cell phone to tell him that he left his teffilin at home, to which he replied, "I'm at the airport and I won't be needing them anymore." That was the last time Avraham was heard from.
Joan comes from a simple blue-collar family in middle America. She is a frequent caller on the Yad L'Shuv Foundation's Talk-Line. She has been frum for well over twenty years and is, B"H successfully raising a family of bnei Torah in a major Jewish community. The only problem is that Joan feels lonely. She's had many rich and interesting experiences, most of which are of an instructive nature that enhance her emunah and bitachon. However, she feels these experiences separate her in a negative way from her close-knit group of neighbors. Although the women in her community are nice to her, because she's different, she senses a distance, she knows she'll never fit-in and be “one of them.” Although glad she made the decision to become a frum Yid, Joan grapples with the prospect of living a life full of loneliness, isolation, and sadness. Her story is one of many similar stories that come to the Talk-Line on an all too regular basis.
Jeffery had developed a very close relationship with the kiruv rav who introduced him to Torah observance. After leaving the university program he was in he went to study in Yeshiva in Israel for several years. Upon returning to the U.S, Jeffery's rosh yeshivah no longer had time to answer his calls; while the young kiruv rav whom he had grown close to while in university was no longer in kiruv and not in a position to maintain a relationship with Jeffery. Feeling alone, abandoned, and betrayed, Jeffery accepted an invitation to live with his non-religious friends. Shortly thereafter, Jeffery abandoned the Torah observant lifestyle he had previously embraced.