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Articles by Esty Heller
In Over Your Head
Ceilings Features Do More Than Just Raise the Roof Historic interiors have always had ceiling features — ceilings that are coffered like waffles, molded like wedding cakes, and painted with scenery that hides subtle insults. (Michelangelo really didn’t like the pope.) Even modest homes of yore often had flowers and vines painted on ceilings. The modern frum interior may not be a market for rude angel paintings, but it’s still a mistake to leave the ceiling completely blank.
Future Proof - Mishpacha
Photos: Avi Yodaiken, Yossi Katz What happens when a shtreimel-wearing rav from Montreal takes the helm at a historic Anglo-Yekkish shul? In London’s Hendon Adass, the unlikely partnership unleashed a boom and became a blueprint for carrying old traditions into a new generation For everyone involved, the process of choosing a rabbi for a community can feel a bit like a shidduch. Both sides do extensive inquiries and background checks. There’s the initial nervous meeting.
You Gotta Start Somewhere
Many of today’s popular performers got an early push into the industry, starting out when they were just kids, although at the time, most of them never realized it was a foreshadowing of what was yet to come. (Can you recognize the kids in the pictures?) Youngest Hire Shloime Dachs got his first job was when he was just eight years old, and he’ll never forget it — it was the first time he was actually paid to sing.
Matter of Course
G e·stalt /gə ’SHtält/ noun PSYCHOLOGY An organized whole that is perceived as more than the sum of its parts. Not very helpful. I refined my search. A movement in psychology founded in Germany in 1912, seeking to explain perceptions in terms of gestalts rather than by analyzing their constituents. Gestalt psychologists argued that these principles exist because the mind has an innate disposition to perceive patterns in the stimulus based on certain rules.
Day to Day - Mishpacha
Of all the gifts in the world, a planner? What was I supposed to do with a planner? This was 2019. People had phones. Phones had calendars. I got automatic reminders for everything. Why did Shuli go and buy me a planner? I stared at the notebook in my hand. It had cupcakes on the cover. And it came along with a super mega-value pack of accessories. Stickers and Washi tape and 24 colored felt-tipped pens. “It’s a huge trend, there’s an entire community of planner addicts,” Shuli babbled in my ear.
Having a Preemie
What was I doing here? This hard white bed and the sterile room were going to be distant memories very soon — obviously. The hospital was a poor substitute for our tiny apartment tucked away on a busy street in Yerushalayim, my solid (if somewhat predictable) computer data entry job, and my new husband learning in the Mir. And at 27 weeks, I still had a long way to go before meeting my first baby.
An Indelible Mark
Chaim Boruch, you weren’t even 50 when you left This World, but in your relatively short life, you became a mainstay of our community. You were born on Simchas Torah 48 years ago and closed the circle when you slipped away quietly on the first day of Pesach — two of the happiest and most elevated points in the Jewish calendar. That link exemplified who you were: a deep, thinking intellectual with a joyous spark that reached everyone you came in contact with.
This Is Crazy - Mishpacha
But from my crouched position, vacuum cleaner hose aimed at non-reachable corners, I benefit from the neutrality of an outsider’s perspective. Which means, when my sister calls to tell me that her kallah-daughter just got the most elaborate Purim Katan gift package, I’m not thinking, Help, I need to send my son’s kallah a Purim Katan gift package. I’m thinking, This is crazy. This is totally and completely crazy. I’m not sure when this shift happened.
Rescue Mission - Mishpacha
Iget it. A new baby is exciting. What I don’t get is the difference between learning about my cousin Toby’s newest family member at 5 a.m versus at 7 a.m. While I’m asleep, especially during the last two precious hours before morning, I’m not all that news hungry. I can’t even know what I don’t know; I’m sleeping, for goodness’ sake. I know it’s my fault. Why do I keep my phone next to my bed, right?
The Fruit Loop - Mishpacha
After Korach’s rebellion, Hashem told Moshe to prove to Klal Yisrael that He had singled out Shevet Levi to serve Him. Every shevet put a staff in the Ohel Moed. The next morning, they saw that only the staff of Levi had blossomed. Normally, first a plant buds, then flowers, and then the flowers fall off as it produces fruit. Yet Levi’s staff had buds, flowers, and fully developed fruit all at once, compounding the incredible miracle (Rabbi Eliyahu Hoffmann, Olas Shabbos).
To Be Honest — The (Much) Better Half
Guys, guys. You’ve got a problem. If you’re a guy and you have a wife, you already know most of what I’m going to tell you. I’m only sharing this with you to firstly validate your position and then to let you know that it doesn’t have to be this way. Speaking man to man, we all know just how hard you work. That kesubah you signed is not a joke. Your word is your word and you intend to honor it every day of your life.
Tempest in an East China Teacup
Tempest in an East China Teacup With Russia’s war in Ukraine a reminder that military force is back on the agenda, global arms sales have grown by almost two percent over the past year. But some arms deals are more significant than others, and in that category falls the UK’s decision to team up with Italy and Japan to build a new fighter plane. As the lead designer on the aircraft, Britain’s choice of design partners tells us about where the country sees its place in the world.
A Tale of Two Shoppers
The first shopper is Me. Me needed shoes. For Me’s kids. Me has been needing shoes for her kids at least twice a year for enough years to know that this need is no simple need. Me fantasized and fretted, calculated and dreaded. Me knew what she was in for, and Me made many phone calls, clipped many ads, peeked in many store windows, and browsed many websites as the season of Buying New Shoes dawned.
Eating Your Curds and Whey
Search and Discovery I learned the differences between ricotta, farmer cheese, and quark — and how to make each of them at home, if I were so inclined (probably not in this lifetime). I watched full-fat and reduced-fat milks bubble and curdle, harden, and then soften into creamy, fresh cheeses. I learned that temperature and acidity matter, and that milk source is everything — don’t interchange cow’s milk with goat or sheep milk unless you’re prepared for a vastly different flavor.
Family Farce Tempo: The Missing Drawer
Bruchy stood in her kitchen. It was an ordinary kitchen, as most kitchens in frum fiction are wont to be, except that it had a missing drawer in the island, to make the story unique. Bruchy was married to Baruch. “Two typical names, but also unique because of the alliteration, right?” Bruchy had mused to her best friend Gayil when she’d gotten engaged.
Follow Me: Chapter 50
The main course was finally served, and everything was perfectly hot. Three cheers, Mr. Berkowitz, Pessie thought with a touch of pride. But the food wouldn’t stay hot for long. Where was Yochi? She didn’t see him anywhere in the succah tent. He was probably still in the kitchen, or talking to Binick, or to Berkowitz, or to any one of the tour staff, who knew? She picked up her fork and ate a few bites. Filet mignon, what could be bad?
Follow Me: Chapter 43
In half a mile, your destination will be at your left. Unconsciously, Yochi’s grip on his steering wheel tightened. Even as he peeked into the rearview mirror and called to the kids, “You can start counting down from a hundred now, but slowly!” one eye was on Pessie, hoping for a reaction. Whatever she’d said all along, no matter how much she’d protested, this was Corvara. The Dolomite Alps. Yochi drank in the view, the majestic mountain terrain, the pristine air.
Follow Me: Chapter 37
It wasn’t a joke, what people said. It was July, and the stores were out of sizes. On full price, new winter season clothing. “Should we try Peonies next?” Pessie’s sister Devoiry asked. Pessie rubbed her eyes in exhaustion. “I guess we should, I really don’t have a choice. My girls don’t have what to wear to my sister-in-law’s Shabbos sheva brachos. But it’s so hot, and it’s a 15-minute walk.” Devoiry took a bottle of cold water out of her bag and handed it to Pessie.
It All Ended with a Doormat
Duh, who doesn’t like it when things are neat? But when you’re living in an apartment where too many little people share the same very small space, you can like when things are neat to your heart’s content, but you can’t actually have things neat, ever. Fast forward a year. Mrs. Heller, who likes when things are neat but hates rhyming so she won’t, found a new house.
The Suitcase - Mishpacha
When my husband and I were newlyweds, we bought a suitcase. We chose a teal-colored one, so we could easily identify it among a sea of black suitcases in an airport. Before every trip — and we traveled often as newlyweds — I opened that suitcase and packed. I packed my husband’s clothing. I packed his Shabbos shoes. I packed his tallis bag and his shtreimel box and that sefer he wanted to take along, and that one also, yes, thanks. Then I packed my own stuff. I packed clothing. And more clothing.
Follow Me: Chapter 21
The hours when Deena’s kids were in school felt like borrowed time. Shira Gluckman sat down on the windowsill in Deena’s studio and bit into a dulce de leche snickerdoodle. “In-sane,” she declared. “You think?” Deena said. She felt so pressured to post her most incredible content that week, while the giveaway ran. She was getting those followers, now she needed to hold on to them. “I need you here again tomorrow,” Deena said. “We’ve got to get this Shavuos series done.”
Follow Me: Chapter 13
It’s easy to say you’ll wake up ten minutes early tomorrow, but when morning comes… Argh. It’s not easy at all. BUT. If you do it — if you manage to part from your pillow when your alarm clock rings — MAKE THESE PANCAKES. I got this inspo from a picture book I was reading with my kids, where the mom made these amazing-looking pancakes, you know, dripping-molasses-topped-with-blueberries type.
Follow Me: Chapter 6
. There it was, the gleaming white Tesla, gliding up in front of her house like the driver owned the place. Automatically, Deena’s insides tightened. But she quickly collected herself. Zev’s father didn’t own the place. Zev had never lived there at all. Deena had bought this apartment, a five-minute walk from her sister Tzippi, with her own money, three months after Zev had died, when Nechama had barely been two years old. She owned the place, and she kept it up.
Follow Me: Chapter 4
Deena poked her calzone dough, frowned, and reached for her phone. Her sister Tzippi would commiserate. “Very nice that you can adjust and push and pull and customize it to the ingredients’ consistency, but really, at the end of the day, a measuring cup has one job: to measure. And Mr. I-Won’t-Say-Names’s measuring cup can’t do that.” “Are you serious?” Deena poked the dough again.
Mazel Tov from Your Friend
The family of the bar mitzvah boy gathered in the shul hall, celebrating with the young man, but it was not like bar mitzvah celebrations of a year ago, with massive crowds dancing and mingling. The rav of the Brooklyn shul in which this bar mitzvah was being held did not know the family, but he came down just the same and addressed the guest of honor, Avraham Salem.
Back to Our Place
So here we are. The One who bestows kingship and controls monarchs and heads of state like puppets has chosen. And maybe, just maybe, we can exhale and admit that it’s not the end of the world. Personally, I hoped Trump would win. I think he was a great president. I think anyone who remembers the days when the Rubashkin file sat on the desk of the Obama administration, ignored, fobbed off by one under-secretary after another, will forever look at Trump and his team with warmth and gratitude.
Thinking of You - Mishpacha
I thought about you today, my friend. You were on my mind as I made the beds. I sent a silent prayer up for you, to have the ability to make your children’s beds for many years to come. A mutual acquaintance texted me early in the morning, surgery today, say Tehillim Leah bas Ruchel Esther. I appreciated the text; it spurred me into action. It also had me thinking about you, a lot. I thought about you as I stirred my coffee, thinking of the lattes we’d shared over the years.
Yardsticks: Chapter 8
Yelena Benish greeted me with a glass of tea and a generous slice of medovik. I took the plate with pursed lips, feeling guilty as I dug my fork through the layers of cake and cream. “It’s… good,” I mumbled. It was more than good. It was absolutely delicious, and beautiful besides. But I couldn’t bring myself to say so. “Where’s Papa?” I asked. He shrugged. “Driving?” I took my plate to my sewing room. When had I eaten last? Twelve o’clock? The tea warmed my chest, soothed my muscles.
Yardsticks: Chapter 33
Yelena Icould have Mama live with us. I could prepare her meals and wash her laundry and fill her pill box with the correct cocktail of medications. I could even make her tea, exactly the way she likes it: black with a lot of mint and a dash of thyme. What I could not do was sit around and sip that tea with her. “I’ll be back in an hour,” I told her, forcing patience into my voice. “Call me on my cell phone if anything hap— I mean, if you need anything. Charasho?
Yardsticks: Chapter 32
Yelena I peeked into the showroom from behind the sewing room door. No Mina in sight. Fu. There was only so long I’d be able to avoid her. If Mina was going to ask me about that gown again, I didn’t know what I would do. Holding the raglan sleeves from the Fulop gown, I headed over to Anuradha. “Here,” I told her. “These are ready.” She looked up from her babochka work. Gingerly, she placed the half-done butterfly on the shoulder area of the sleeve and shook her head. “No.”
Alight - Mishpacha
Gittel — her very name meant goodness. Rebbetzin Gittel Kaplan was a woman of wisdom and love and humor and graciousness. A woman with a commitment to bringing Torah into the world, to helping Klal Yisrael, who expanded herself to include not just her children, not only her friends, but everyone, everywhere. Avigail Sharer, Targum Press coworker I met Gittel at the right time in my life. I was a young mother, in Eretz Yisrael without family. Twenty years ago, we young marrieds were at a crossroad.
Yardsticks: Chapter 28
What was it about this woman that felt so shadowy? Something niggled in my stomach. Mina This gown was it. I lay in bed, restless, the image of Shevy in Tzirel’s gown overwhelming my mind. There was no doubt in my heart. After all these years of intuiting when a kallah’s gown was hers, I knew with certainty that this was the gown Shevy would wear to her wedding. It was no ordinary gown. I’d inspected it closely, analyzed the sewing work. Every detail was one hundred percent perfect.
Yardsticks: Chapter 25
Mina Yocheved confronted me the moment I walked into the boutique. “How did your lesson go?” There was a smirk on her face, and her voice dripped disdain. “Did you convince the girls to put me out of business?” I had an urge to hurl my notepad across the room and flee, never to return. One more takanos dig… I glared at her, my breath shaking. But then, while my mind raced, trying to formulate a fitting counter barb, I caught a flicker in Yocheved’s eyes.
Yardsticks: Chapter 22
Mina It was only after I got home from the boutique, still fuming, that it hit me: What was I going to tell Shevy? The thought festered in the back of my brain while I grilled chicken for supper. The kids were making a ruckus, and I was trying to figure out what Dina would eat while listening to five stories at once. “When are we going for gowns?” Rikki asked loudly. “We’re eating supper now,” I snapped. Rikki frowned. I felt awful. I opened the fridge and poured her a cup of Sprite.
Yardsticks: Chapter 9
I urgently tried telepathizing a warning to Shlomo, don’t get worked up. We wanted Shevy to marry their son, this was mortifying. Chesky was going to kill us It was my turn to straighten tassels. The Engels’ tassels were decidedly different from ours; no threads fraying along the edges. They evidently weren’t subject to the tugs of war popular in the Genuth household. Everything was different in this house.
Yardsticks: Chapter 7
Yelena Something was up with these sisters. Maria burst through the door of the sewing room. “Yocheved…” She balled her palm in a fist and pulled a sour face, miming Yocheved’s scowl. “O Bozhe. Who started up with her?” Kate and Olga sniggered, but I didn’t find the storm cloud on Yocheved’s face amusing. I had a pit in my stomach. If Mina had told Yocheved that I’d complained about Yocheved’s attitude, that would be awful. But no, Mina wouldn’t have told her anything. She couldn’t have.
Fly Above Fear - Mishpacha
Two grown women, each paralyzed with fear at the thought of boarding a plane. A therapist uses innovative techniques to uncover the layers beneath the phobia and enables them to heal Yudit Iwas always a good, quiet kid. I never got into trouble, never had “issues.” And being the good kid that I was, I never woke anyone up at night, even as I lay in bed, eyes wide open and trembling in fear. Instead I’d lie still, gripping my quilt and holding my breath, every nerve in my body on high alert.
Yardsticks: Chapter 2
“We? Don’t say we. I’m at the sewing machine all day. How about you do something for a change?” R ubinstein was hocking when I brought a tray of rugelach into the living room. “And we haven’t even gotten to the vort, which costs, what, five, ten thousand?” Schwartz thumbed the air, cackling. “That’s the whole chochmah. It’s only when they realize how much they’ve spent on the vort that they rethink their spending on the wedding. We shouldn’t touch the vort.” Hersko nodded and gestured to his paper.
Money Talks - Mishpacha
“I s it true that we’re rich?” Adina Meyer posed this question to her mother when she was in eighth grade. Her classmate had blurted a comment about the Meyers being well off, and Adina was shocked. Her family lived in a regular house and led a similar lifestyle to that of her friends. She never got extravagant gifts or went on exotic vacations. They were normal, just like everyone else. The Meyers were, in fact, exceptionally wealthy.
Not So Fast - Mishpacha
As a rebbi, I felt compelled to respond to Mrs. Miriam Zakon’s letter in last week’s Mishpacha, as she wonders why the original “Checks & Balances” theme issue did not actively encourage men to pursue careers in chinuch and kiruv. I would like to focus on the chinuch piece. Mrs. Zakon is correct with regards to the wonderful quality of life and workplace environment enjoyed by those who are fortunate to work in chinuch.
Time for School - Mishpacha
Prioritize and structure. Choices must be made W hen the party’s over and everyone trudges back to school parents and children feel all kinds of emotions. Some are disappointed that the unscheduled or less scheduled days of summer are ending to be replaced by the highly structured predictable routine of the school year. Now it’s nose to the books for the youngsters car pools and lunches for the grown-ups and homework struggles for everyone.
Salute to the Minyan Man
G iven the slow pace of this time of year I decided to write about something safe and innocuous you know nothing that will make anyone get up out of their deck chair or off the bungalow porch. Bland stuff I don’t know like say weather patterns or women in chareidi society. Lol. Kidding. Last month we took a stab at creating our own most-influential list the power brokers of the frum community and highlighted the beloved younger brother of the chassan calling out under the chuppah.
24-Karat Emunah - Mishpacha
CARRYING THE TORCH Through her epic books To Vanquish the Dragon and Carry Me in Your Heart and throughout her life author Pearl Benisch a”h carried her teacher Sarah Schenirer’s immortal lessons forward for future generations T urn the pages of one of Pearl Benisch’s works — To Vanquish the Dragon and Carry Me in Your Heart — and you’ll find an account that reshapes and transcends the conventions of Holocaust literature.
Let it Pass - Mishpacha
During this busy season, keep the complaints to yourself P esach is also called Passover. “Pass over” as we know means to ignore something to skip it to move on. At this time of year this concept is especially important.
Pulled Corned Beef
Food and prop styling by Renee Muller | Photography by Hudi Greenberger Years ago I made this recipe for Yom Tov and one of my sons (who apparently enjoyed it) excitedly asked to be passed the cornedededed beef! It’s been many years since then but I still use this delicious recipe for corned beef and yes we still call it cornedededed beef! Chanie tells me she serves her corned beef pulled as a variation; try pulled or sliced regularly you will be delighted with the results.
The Real Me - Mishpacha
My name is Esther. I’m 12 years old and I live in Edgware, London, England. I have something called autism. Hi beautiful diary. I am so lucky that I randomly found you. My name is Esther. I’m 12 years old and I live in Edgware London England. My name has several meanings. Esther is also Hadassah which means myrtle. It makes sense considering my favorite colors are green and blue. It also means hidden. I have something called autism.
Locked Out - Mishpacha
“Hey Motty. Want me to do that?” Motty looked up from the wicks he was adjusting. “No thanks Rafi. My mitzvah.” Rafi shrugged. “Whatever. I’m going out. Need anything?” “Yeah some Coke. Benny’s stopping by tonight.” “Cool.” “Thanks.” Cool. Whatever. From the day he’d opened his home to these boys who had no other home he’d made it his business to understand their language. He finished the wicks and walked to the kitchen. “Hey Abba” Eliyahu greeted him. Motty eyed his son. Since when had “hi” become “hey”?
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