Happy Birthday!

On this date 31 years ago I brought into this world a beacon of light to behold.

She has grown to become a beautiful woman, loving wife and dutiful daughter.

A Happy Birthday Pussycat!

Purim! What The Heck Is Purim?

A repeat from last year.

It all began in Ancient Persia in the 4th century BCE. The Holy Temple that had stood in Jerusalem was destroyed more than 50 years earlier, and the Jews were subjects of the mighty Persian empire (Now known as Iran.) which extended over 127 lands.

Three years after King Ahasuerus ascended the Persian throne, when he felt secure in his new position, he celebrated by throwing a grand 180-day-long party for all his subjects. Following this extravagant gala, Ahasuerus hosted a smaller week-long party for the residents of the capital city of Shushan. In the palace's women's quarters, Ahasuerus' wife, Queen Vashti, hosted her own party for the Shushanite womenfolk.

On the seventh day of this party, Ahasuerus' heart "was merry with wine," and he commanded his wife Vashti to appear before all the partying men—he wanted to show them all her exquisite beauty. Vashti balked at this request, and at the advice of his advisor Memuchan, Ahasuerus ordered Vashti's execution.

When Ahasuerus' wrath dissipated, he was lonely for a wife. His servants suggested that he orchestrate a beauty pageant. Officers would be appointed in all the king's lands, and all beautiful girls would be brought to Ahasuerus. And the girl who would find favor in the king's eyes would be the new queen.

The leader of the Jews at that time was a Shushanite resident named Mordechai. He had a cousin, Esther, who was orphaned as a young girl. Mordechai raised her and treated her as a daughter. Though she had no desire to be the queen, Esther was forcibly taken to the king's harem, to participate in the contest. While all the other contestant beautified themselves with perfumes and lotions, Esther did nothing. But G‑d had His own plans. When Esther appeared before the king, he immediately liked her, and Esther became the new Queen of Persia. But as per Mordechai's directive, Esther refused to divulge her nationality—even to the king.

Shortly after Esther became queen, Mordechai overheard two of the king's chamberlains discussing a plot to assassinate the king. Mordechai had them reported, and the traitors were hanged.

Meanwhile, Haman, one of Ahasuerus' ministers, was promoted to the position of Prime Minister. Haman was a virulent Jew hater; in fact he was a descendant of the notoriously anti-Semitic nation of Amalek.

Immediately after his promotion, the king issued a decree ordering everyone to bow down whenever Haman appeared. Now Haman would walk around with a large idol hanging from a chain around his neck. When Mordechai, a proud Jew, refused to bow down, Haman was infuriated. He resolved to take revenge against all the Jews and threw lots to determine the "lucky" day when he would implement his plan. The lot fell on the 13th day of the Hebrew month of Adar.

Haman approached Ahasuerus and offered him 10,000 silver talents in exchange for permission to exterminate the Jews. Ahasuerus, who was no friend of the Jews either, told Haman, "The money is yours to keep, and the nation is yours to do with as you please."

Haman immediately sent proclamations to all the king's land. These declarations, sealed with the royal signet ring, ordered the people to rise up against the Jews and kill them all – men, women, and children – on the following 13th of Adar.

Mordechai became aware of the decree. He rent his garments and donned sackcloth. He sent a message to Esther, asking her to approach the king and beg him to spare her people. Esther responded that according to the rules anyone who entered the king's presence un-summoned would be put to death—unless the king extended to that person his golden scepter. "And I," Esther said, "have not been summoned by the king for thirty days already!"

Mordechai sent another message: "Do not think that you will escape the fate of all the Jews by being in the king's palace. For if you will remain silent at this time, relief and salvation will come to the Jews from another source, and you and the house of your father will be lost. And who knows if it is not for just such a time that you reached this royal position."

Esther agreed to approach the king. But she asked Mordechai to gather all the Jews in Shushan and let them all fast for three days and nights. And after this fast Esther would put her life in her hands and approach the king.

Mordechai complied with Esther's request. He gathered the Jews of Shushan – especially the children, 22,000 of them – and they fasted, repented and prayed to G‑d.

After three days of fasting, Esther donned royal garb and entered Ahasuerus' chambers. Immediately, the king extended his scepter. "What is it?" Ahasuerus asked. "What is your request?"

"I would like to invite the king and Haman to a small feast I have prepared," Esther responded.

So the king and Haman joined Esther for a wine-feast. During the feast, the king again asked Esther whether she had anything to request. "Yes," Esther responded. "I would appreciate if tomorrow, again, the king and Haman would join me for a feast. And then I will tell the king my request.

Haman left the party a happy and proud man. Oh the honor he was being accorded! But standing at the king's gate was Mordechai – who still refused to bow to Haman – and Haman was enraged. When he arrived home, his wife and wise advisors counseled him to erect a gallows, and then to go to the king and request permission to hang Mordechai. Haman excitedly went ahead and put up the gallows.

Sleep eluded the king that night, so he asked his servants to read for him from the Royal Chronicles. They complied with the king's orders. They read from the Chronicles how Mordechai saved the king's life when two of his chamberlains hatched a plot to kill him.

"Was he rewarded for this fine act?" Ahasuerus asked. "No he was not," the servants responded.

At that moment Haman entered the king's courtyard. His purpose? To ask the king's permission to hang Mordechai! Before Haman could utter a word, Ahasuerus addressed him: "My Haman, in your estimation, what shall be done to a person whom the king wishes to honor?"

Haman, who was certain that the king wished to honor him, responded: "Bring royal garment and a royal horse. And let one of the king's nobles dress the man and lead him on the horse through the city streets, proclaiming before him, 'So is done for the man whom the king wishes to honor!'"

"Great idea," Ahasuerus responded. "Now go get the garments and the horse and do so for Mordechai the Jew!"

Haman had no choice but to comply. On the next day he went and honored Mordechai as the king had ordered, and then immediately rushed to join the king and Esther for...

"What is your request?" a curious King Ahasuerus asked Esther at the feast.

"If I have found favor in your eyes, O King," Esther pleaded, "and if it pleases the king, let my life be granted me by my plea, and the life of my people by my request. For my people and I have been sold to be annihilated, killed and destroyed!" Esther then identified Haman as the evil person who wished to perpetrate this atrocity.

The king was greatly angered. When he was then informed that Haman had built a gallows for Mordechai, he ordered that Haman be hanged on that very gallows.

On that day, Haman's estate was given to Esther, and Mordechai was appointed Prime Minister in Haman's stead.

But Esther was far from satisfied. Haman was dead, but his evil decree was still in effect. According to Persian law, once a king issues a decree it can not be rescinded. But the king gave Mordechai and Esther permission, and they promptly wrote up a decree that countermanded Haman's edict. The decree granted the Jews permission to defend themselves against their enemies. And by this time, considering that all knew that the queen and Prime Minister were both Jewish, no one would prevent the Jews from doing just that!

And the Jews in Shushan were oh so happy. Celebrations abounded!

On the 13th of Adar that year, the Jews throughout the Persian Empire mobilized and killed the enemies who had wanted to kill them. In Shushan, among the dead were Haman's ten sons.

Esther asked the king's permission for the Jews in Shushan to have one more day to destroy their enemy—and the king acceded to her wish. On that day, the 14th of Adar, the Jews worldwide celebrated, and the Jews of Shushan killed more of their enemies, and also hung Haman's sons. The Jews of Shushan then rested and celebrated on the 15th of Adar.

Mordechai and Esther established a holiday to commemorate these amazing events. Jews worldwide celebrate on the 14th of Adar, while residents of walled cities – like Shushan – celebrate on the 15th of Adar. This holiday, called "Purim," is the most joyous holiday on the Jewish calendar.

All these events happened in Ancient Persia, today's Iran. And like ancient Persia there is a Haman ready to kill the Jews. He is Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, a man who threatens to wipe out Israel and the Jewish people world wide. But like every despot that has tried to destroy the Jewish people, he will fall by the wayside.

On Adar 13, during the biblical story of Purim, the 10 sons of Haman were hanged (Esther 9:7). This would find eerie parallel over 2,000 years later when 10 top Nazi officials were hanged at the Nuremberg Trials. Incredibly, the Hebrew year of the hangings at Nuremberg, 5707, is encoded in the Book of Esther: In the listing of Haman's 10 sons, three Hebrew letters -- taf, shin and zayin, representing the year 5707 -- are written unusually small. (This anomaly appears in every authentic Megillah scroll, written that way for over 2,000 years.)


The Maccabeats - Purim Song




In honor of Purim, jokes practical and not are played on each other. Gifts of food and wine to friends and family are given. Gifts to charity to help the poor and destitute are to be given. (Normally through a third party.)

Tonight starts the Holiday of Purim. Enjoy the day. Enjoy the jokes.

Happy Purim To All!!!!

A Button's Life

Everyone has a mission in life, even when you don't realize it at first.

A simple tale from Aish.com by Rabbi Yaakov Salomon

It’s not easy being a button.

For one thing, my home is a factory. It's noisy, hot and crowded. Life for me and my fellow buttons is mostly dominated by waiting for the chance to connect to a suit.

I was born several months ago in New Delhi. They say New Delhi is nice, but I wouldn’t know. I have spent 100% of my time in a huge crate, surrounded by “friends” of similar ilk. I simply wait...patiently or otherwise, to be put to use. So I don't get out much.

Some of my fellow buttons are much older than me. Many of them have already appeared on various jackets, or coats, or shirts and they guide us rookies who are still awaiting their initial foray into the World of the Garment. When the lights go dim in the factory each night and the button buzz begins, I listen to the veterans tell their “war stories”– getting lost after a painful separation, cracking, or sometimes just being summarily replaced. It's scary how one day you can be King of the Hill on a cashmere Burberry two-piece and the next day you could be kicked onto the tracks of a Brighton bound D train.

I try to stay positive. The factory is busy. Every morning the tailors and seamstresses file in and do their thing. I just sit and wait and watch and hope.

Will today be the day? When will I be chosen? How long must I wait, watching my friends being picked out, sewn on, and fulfilling their special purpose in life?

Wow! Look at that! My friend was just affixed to a gorgeous, beige, silk chiffon evening gown. She looks so proud. I am so happy for her. She’ll go to the nicest places and mingle with the ‘upscale’ crowd. That’s what she always wanted.

Me? I'm just a dark navy, natural material, genuine horn suit button. Sometimes I wish I was a shiny brass snap, or a zinc alloy or a pewter buckle, or maybe one of those adorable, hip, pink toggles. But let’s face it. I’m not. I'm just not. That doesn't mean I don't have an important role to play. Yes, one day my time will come. I'm sure of it.

ONE MONTH LATER

It was late one Wednesday afternoon. I had spent the day like most others…waiting. At least 30 buttons from my crate had been selected. That’s a lot of goodbyes for one day. To say I didn’t feel sad would be a lie. And then it happened. Whoosh! I felt myself lifted with a sudden burst of energy and cradled into the softest hand I could ever imagine.

“So this is what it’s like,” I mumbled to myself. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I think I did both. I knew I’d miss my friends and my home, but at last I’d be somebody. I would have purpose, a mission.

Raj, the tailor, was quick but precise. He had just finished what seemed like a wool blazer for a small boy and was preparing to adorn it with three front buttons. I waited my turn next to the sewing machine without making a sound. I watched Raj carefully place the first button on. If not for the cacophony of the machinery, the whole plant would have heard my pounding heartbeat.

Raj lifted the button beside me and gently secured it in the second position – about two inches below the top button. The anticipation was overwhelming. And then…out of nowhere…it hit me! I was going to be placed in position number three! After all my waiting, after all the dreams and hopes, I was suddenly designated for the useless, barren wasteland of bottom buttonhood.

In my excitement at finally being chosen, I had totally forgotten about “the curse.” The bottom button is just there for show. It is never closed, never used, and usually never noticed. It lays dormant for the lifespan of the garment and gets tossed away when the jacket dies. What kind of life is that?

Raj ran the needle and thread through my broken heart and perfectly centered me to life imprisonment. Life had just begun and it was already over. I simply hung in place -- useless. What choice did I have in the matter?

I endured several weeks of storage and transport and eventually made my way to a rack in a small boys’ shop in Baltimore. The customers were nice enough, The prospects for finding a warm and loving home seemed reasonable. I made peace with my “position” in life, but understood that true fulfillment would, sadly, be unattainable.

One day a mother and son arrived and asked to see a blazer that totally fit my description. The lady wore fancy jewelry and expensive shoes, and the boy walked with a kind of swagger that made him look older than he probably was. I began picturing a life that might be comfortable, even lavish, albeit unrealized. I said a silent prayer, hoping that they would make me part of their family. Mom surveyed the aisle and actually took me off the hanger.

“Try this one on, David,” she offered. My heart was pounding again. I liked the name David and I was desperate to find someplace I could call home. But alas, I was the wrong size. David must like burgers and pancakes. Even buttons one and two were in danger of popping. I, of course, was never even attempted. Sadly, I returned to my perch.

Later that afternoon I noticed another mother/son tandem enter the store. This woman looked rather plain. Her clothes were neat but haphazard,and I wasn’t sure what to make of her son. His features were different than most kids. His eyes were slightly slanted upward and his nose seemed small, almost flat. His ears were small too. But his smile was beautiful. He didn’t talk much, and when he did his words were sort of garbled.

Mr. Rabinowitz steered them in my direction. Again my hopes rose, but they were filled with conflict. I wasn’t sure if this was the harbor I had always dreamed of docking my ship at.

Mom was checking the price tags on the jackets in the corner, but the boy seemed to be staring right at me.

“Stay close to Mommy, sweetheart. You’ll get lost over there,” she beckoned.

But Sweetheart paid no heed. He lumbered his way right in front of my section and with a mind very much his own, clutched me and my jacket and clumsily dropped us to the floor.

“You’re making a mess," Mom quietly said, taking him by the hand and drawing him close.

I felt bad for Sweetheart. He wasn’t trying to misbehave. He was just trying to be independent. Meanwhile I lay on the floor awaiting retrieval. Mr. Rabinowitz was nowhere in sight. I wondered how much time I’d have to stay on the cold floor, but not for long. Here was Sweetheart, breaking loose from his mother’s grasp and running towards me again. This time he successfully nestled the jacket in his soft hands and began to put his arms through the sleeves.

Having completed his mission, a huge grin appeared on his face. He looked absolutely adorable. With the pride of a foreign ambassador, Sweetheart marched himself over to a nearby mirror. Mom noticed him from across the way and with familiar resignation strode towards him. She closed buttons one and two and seemed to give the possibility some serious consideration. As usual, I simply waited.

She turned to find Mr. Rabinowitz and left us alone for just an instant. It was all he needed. Sweetheart took a confident gaze into the mirror and reached down to my neighborhood. I thought I would shriek from exhilaration. Sweetheart fumbled me in his sweaty palms. I thought he might yank me across the room. It took a few seconds, but it really happened. He closed me. Me! Button number three – the useless one!

Mr. Rabinowitz came over and tried to teach Sweetheart proper style and etiquette. He undid me once… twice… but Sweetheart was having none of it. Mom made a few attempts too, but my new friend had his mind made up. I would not be left out. Ever.

We made our way to the checkout counter, but Sweetheart and I would not part. He insisted on wearing the jacket home -- buttoned: one, two, and three.

Sweetheart loved that jacket and wore it whenever he could. And when he outgrew it... he just wore it anyway -- as long as he could.

Yes, Sweetheart loved that jacket.

And I loved Sweetheart.

An inspirational story to start off your week.

Have a good week!