Posted on 02/12/26
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Baltimore, MD - Feb. 11, 2026 - This week when I walked into the grocery store to do my regular weekly shopping, I was immediately assailed with colors, masks, and displays of candy in preparation for the next Chag comin’ right up. You know it; Purim is around the corner. As it is still Chodesh Shevat, I better get those thoughts percolating in my head and onto print before this month is over! Here goes.
Recently, a classmate posted on our class WhatsApp chat the yartzeit of our beloved Bais Yaakov high school principal Rabbi Binyomin Steinberg, ztl. This year commemorated the 35th yartzeit. Wow. “Where did time go,” I am thinking more often these days. For us old-time Baltimoreans, I don’t need to explain who he was. For those who did not grow up in Baltimore from years of yore, but send their daughters to Bais Yaakov of today, then I will enumerate what a giant this man was. His family fled from Germany to Shangai, then came to America, and he grew into a tremendous talmid chochom. His knowledge of almost, if not all, any subject was legendary and he could walk into any class and take over the lesson for the day. I will never forget the day he walked into our 11th grade history class, perhaps as a sub, and taught us why the Pacific Ocean is named as such. (The waters are calmer in contrast to the Atlantic, much like a pacifier soothes the infant.) As a talmidah, what still stands out in my mind is the great respect he had for people. Every student was greeted with his signature greeting in his booming voice, “good morning, Miss so and so.” My mother also remembers how he called her up and thanked her for chaperoning our 8th grade class trip. Rabbi Steinberg’s Ahavas Yisroel was well known, and oh boy, who does not remember the spontaneous shmooze we had one morning telling us quite emphatically and passionately that there is no such thing as a “type,” and how could it be that you’re only friends with one sort of person and not another. He cared so deeply for his talmidos that at another impromptu shmooze with the entire and very small high school that fit into what was the davening room (on the elementary campus), he talked about the great importance of eating breakfast, citing the Rambam, when he found out girls were skipping breakfast. The stories are many and memorable, however, as a Morah, I credit Rabbi Steinberg with setting the standard for curriculum and middos development, and of course, emulate his regular habit of picking up garbage from the floor.
The yartzeit came and went and I was glad to have a pause for that. Around the same time, sadly, another great person in Baltimore chinuch was niftar. Morah Dubby, a'h, or affectionately known as Bubby Dubb, passed away on the ninth day of Shevat. For those of us who knew her, it is still a shock. My family had the zechus of hosting her for Shabbos meals when she lived in the neighborhood. We all enjoyed her company as she enjoyed the divrei torah, with my young children at the time, making sure to say L’Kavod Shabbos Kodesh before tasting my food. This nonagenarian Bubby, and Morah in TA for over sixty years will forever be remembered by the smile she always wore on her face, the easy-going attitude that was her essence yet belied her greatness. She had tremendous Ahavas HaTorah, espoused Pashtus along with the Derech Eretz she accorded to anyone who crossed her path. I had the privilege of interviewing her this past summer and heard about her illustrious history and mesirus nefesh by her family for Shemiras Shabbos.
Another recent petira that has also saddened the community was Morah Sarah Rivka Shapiro, a'h. She was a beloved playgroup Morah for over twenty years and is remembered for her gentle smile and demeanor. Morah Sarah Rivka provided a warm loving environment in her home where children felt safe and loved, and learned so much.
Still this month, yet another yartzeit of a Baltimore giant was M. Leo Storch, of blessed memory, vice president and later president of Bais Yaakov, who was instrumental in finding a home for Bais Yaakov in the early years. While I was not alive in his lifetime, I have tremendous Hakoras HaTov to Mr. Storch as I am a proud BYB alumnus. In my case, the gratitude extends even more so, as I moved to Baltimore with my mother and brother after the Petirah of our father. Bais Yaakov taught me and my family our Mesorah and provided a place to learn and grow and cultivate lifelong friendships. Interestingly, another later president of Bais Yaakov, Rabbi Ari Neuberger ztl , had a connection to my family. As a bachur, R’ Neuberger learned b’chavrusha with my father, a”h, after Ner Israel brought him and other Holocaust survivors from Churban Europa to study in the Yeshiva. Hashagacha had it that I would also be a recipient of Rabbi Neuberger’s torah through Bais Yaakov, the same way my father had been years before.
When thinking about all these Baltimore yartzeits, I was struck by the fact that these great people involved in Chinuch all died in the month of Shevat, the month we celebrate growth. On Tu B’Shvat, we are gifted from Hashem, through the miracle of Nature, the ability to plant seeds while tapping into the core principle of chinuch, and that is Potential. Potential is what defines growth despite the cold winter(challenge) around us, anticipating those seedlings to take root. We have no idea how the tree will grow, if it will endure, and what its offshoots will look like. We can only pray as the trees are judged on the day known as the Rosh HaShonah Shel HaIlanos, the New Year for the trees. How curious it is to ponder that M. Leo Storch, Rabbi Steinberg, and Morah Dubby, each in his and her own way cultivated seeds, with dedication to the Klal and an eye toward the future. We continue to witness the flourishing forest via the many trees that have taken root in the countless adults in our community (including this author) and throughout the world. The planting and growing Baruch Hashem is still going strong as our children are educated in the respective Mosdos of Bais Yaakov and TA by mechanchim also educated from said institutions, and from the people highlighted in this article! Indeed, it is the brocho of Ilan Ilan Ba Mah Averchecah coming to fruition. In yet another demonstration of seeing the tree blossom and grow, I have had the zechus of teaching the great grandchildren of M. Leo Storch, Rabbi Steinberg, and Morah Dubby, yehi zichrom Baruch, those who planted so long ago. As this month comes to a close and we are getting ready for the next fun holiday of Purim and increased Joy, I pray that the seeds of Redemption that have been planted with so many tears over the past two years and throughout the endless Galus, finally come to maturity with the heralding of Geulah once again as it did so long ago in Shushan. Goodbye Shevat and hello Purim. I am ready for the Simcha of greeting Mashiach, graggers, and all.