Although I have lived in Monsey for most of my life, I am not a Monsey native. My formative years were spent living in the

One Shabbos afternoon—during the summer of 2010—in the Staum bungalow at Camp Dora Golding, a 4-year-old boy (whose last name happens to be Staum) decided

It’s something we probably don’t appreciate enough. Being part of a community so eager to perform acts of chesed for each other. In times of

The following was written seven years ago. It is being reprinted with gratitude to Hashem for all His chesed and bracha in the past, and

It’s fascinating how new words are constantly being added to our lingo, based on the advancements of technology. People casually speak about doing things that

On a Sunday afternoon—a number of years ago—my in-laws were visiting us from Lakewood, and we went to a local pizza shop here in Monsey

One of the highlights of camp each summer—and in many ways its crescendo—are the three days of color war. There are certain unwritten traditions about

During the summer of 1991, I was a camper in the intermediate division of Camp Dora Golding. One day, I got off my bed and

A few years ago—shortly before Tisha B’Av—someone forwarded me a touchingly beautiful and masterfully produced video, entitled “Letting Go.” Narrated by Rabbi Yoel Gold, it

It was an experience I hope no one ever has. It was a Motzei Shabbos at the end of October in 2004. We were living

A number of years ago I had a wound on my upper right arm, and when it healed a large bump grew in its place.