Posted on 11/21/25
Baltimore, MD - Nov. 21, 2025 - Kislev is here and I am still in Cheshvan mode. I find Cheshvan to be an interesting month. We’re finally catching our breath from the Yom Tov whirlwind. Schedules are now a part of reality along with the early setting sun. The trees are slowly baring their branches as the once green and then colorful leaves become brown and fall to the ground, covering the streets and sidewalks. Some of the bold ones foray their way into our hallway home entrances. Find that broom and rake; it’s time to bag ‘em up, if it’s even worth it for more are sure to fall, littering the grass once again.
Oh to be a kid again enjoying the stomp jump and crunch activity of falling into the said collected pile. Fall is beautiful, not just in the landscape, in that it establishes rhythm and routine after a month of extreme busyness and is accompanied by mild weather. That cold nip is certainly welcome after a hot summer and along with the rakes and brooms, comes out the hot cocoa, flavored teas and fuzzy sweatshirts.
Indeed, Fall is fun, and I enjoy the aesthetics of Nature at this time, yet I find myself out of sorts. Perhaps it is due to the transitioning of seasons and having a touch of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder), however, I think I’m still pedaling on that bike of post war, hostage worry and soldier prayer and I’m not sure how to stop. Thank G-d the war is over. Thank G-d our captive brothers and sisters are home. Baruch Hashem our soldiers are no longer on active duty, or at least to the extent it was. Hodu L’Hashem Ki Tov Ki L’Olam Chasdo for kevuras Yisroel, as we still await the others. We have prayed, we have cried, we have held our breath for over two years with every test of Faith and distressing news item from across the globe. Prayer never stops, nor does the collective love we have learned to discover in each other, no matter what our religious convictions are. We do have to adjust, like the month of Cheshvan teaches us, and return to regular living. We have to stop holding our breath and remember to inhale and then exhale. Our family on the other side of the ocean has a lot of work to do. They need to learn to live again, some more so than others. They need to heal. There is no timetable for this process. It is a real challenge for people who have suffered so much. At the same time, we need to be grateful as we enter this period of less sunlight and habituate to juggling the mundane of schedules. We must also pray for this type blessing for our People, alongside the ones for repair, recovery and rebuilding.
Our beloved Baltimore community has had its share of tza’ar. What was a beautiful Yom Tov, ended on a heartbreaking note with tragic petiros and sudden shocking losses. I am still trying to wrap my head around them all. It is hard. One way I find solace is with my nature walks. It is heart healthy on many levels, both in the physical and emotional realm. One day, I observed a tree whose leaves turned brown and were firmly attached to the branches. It gave me pause. While not very beautiful to behold it was a lesson indeed. I’m still figuring that one out.
Perhaps there are lessons in life that we must tightly hold onto despite the conditions of our lives. It doesn’t always look pretty and it’s not easy, but nevertheless it is what grounds us when the winds of Challenge blow our way. For myself, I am trying to grasp onto the teachings that our beloved community Rabbonim espoused; Rabbi Moshe Hauer, Rabbi Ezra Neuberger and Rabbi Shlomo Porter, zichronom l’vracha.
Each one affected different parts of our community and the Klall at large. Each one was mekarev and mechazek the individual and left a profound impression by way of his unique Kochos. Their loss is still acute, yet just like those brown leaves, their essence remains and this is what we need to hold onto. Then comes Kislev. Chanuka. The Festival of Lights. Of course, we celebrate the Miracles of Holiness and Bravery! Kislev enters the natural world when it is dark and cold. The weather is no longer mild and the trees shiver in the wind. Fuzzy sweatshirts and hot cocoa can only take you so far. That’s where the Light comes in. It is beckoning. It is uplifting. It is just as Avraham Fried sings, “Just a little bit of light dispels a lot of darkness.”
Hashem in His infinite wisdom fashioned the seasons just so. One of the ways to help with SAD is with light therapy, and Hashem gives us just that in the physical form and with its spiritual partner, which is really one and the same. We know that doing mitzvos and acts of kindness creates that light as well.
This Kislev, let us take the light from the Shamash of our leaders zt'l and share that with others. Let us find light that we can spread in our own way, whether it’s in your home, or work (my classroom!), or wherever you find yourself. It’s a great antidote to SAD and sad.
Chodesh Tov to all. May it be lichtig.