Never Again is the response echoed throughout my life.

The Rebbe, childless, clasped into his bosom a broken generation, holding them tight with a healing vision. Moshiach Now.

It is Azalea season in Georgia. These colorful flowers nestled in bushes dot the landscape all over town. If you know anything about me, you know that I have a deep and passionate love for nature, and especially flowers. 

I don’t shake hands. Well, at least not with most adult males. I politely decline the hand offered to me. “I am sorry, I don’t shake hands for religious reasons, nothing personal”

Before satellites and 24-hour cable news, if a hurricane was headed your way, you might know it mere hours in advance, and the time you had to prepare was commensurate with how much information you knew.

Facebook. Like it. Instagram. Double-tap it. Snapchat. Snap it. Twitter. Tweet it. Pinterest. Pin it. LinkedIn. Link it. Follow. Like. Friend. Share. Repeat. It is the best of times — to stay in touch. It is possibly the worst of times — to develop authentic relationships.

A guest came to our Chabad House to celebrate the birthday of his friend, a regular Shabbat congregant. The guest approached me during the meal after services, saying he was going to be speaking