Dear friends,
Please forward this to as many people as possible.

In the past month the Lubavitch community suffered too many tragedies involving young people. A boy from Crown Heights passed away untimely and this past Friday a few girls were in a car accident in which one was killed and other is in critical condition (Please daven for her. Her name is Orah Meital Marcel bas Bela.) and this week another bachur passed away after being critically injured in a car accident.
A group of friends of the girls that was killed got together to think of a way to end this bitter Galus. One of the ideas brought up was a worldwide Neshek campaign involving two parts:
1) Those who already light Shabbos candles should take upon themselves to try to light a few minutes before the actual time and beseech Hashem to bring Moshiach (a time referred to as "a day that is all Shabbos") earlier.
2) To try to reach as many women who do not yet light candles to encourage them begin lighting with the intention to hasten the coming of Moshiach and in her merit (Toba bas Zalman Dovid A"H).
May we all have only good news to share and may Hashem send us the ultimate comfort.

Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!
Have a easy fast!

ma fille mushka rivkah.
shabbat shalom a tout.
chaya

une tres belle histoir, desole mais cest en englais

Until a few years ago, I didn't take anything very seriously. I had graduated from a Yeshiva high school, and, unlike most of my class, I didn't feel I had what it took to be a learner. I didn't want to go to college right away, and I thought I would get a job and have a good time before I settled down. My parents were not very pleased with these decisions, but at that point in my life, what my parents wanted was not terribly important to me.
Regrettably, during this time I fell in with a group of friends who were not orthodox. At first, I told myself that they would not influence me; but this turned out to be very far from the truth. In a very short period of time, I became exactly like them, and maybe worse, as I should have known better. Shabbos meant nothing, Kashrus meant nothing, and my life was spent in a haze which even today I have trouble remembering. My parents were devastated. Maybe they didn't expect me to be the best of the best, but they certainly didn't expect this.
As well as having destroyed my own life, I was on my way to destroying my family as well. Because of the bad influence I was having on my younger brothers, my father asked me to leave the house. When I moved out, I said some really cruel and spiteful things to him. I can remember him standing silently at the door, with my mother crying at his side. I realize now that what I had seen in them as a weakness was actually enormous strength. I had no contact with anyone in my family for almost a year. Deep inside I missed them very much, but I foolishly thought that I could be seen as weak, if I contacted them.
One morning, I was shocked to find my father waiting for me outside of the apartment building I lived in. He looked at me with tired, worn eyes and asked if we could talk. Stubborn to the core, I only nodded, and we walked to a corner coffee shop where we sat down. He told me how much everyone missed me and how I had been in their minds and hearts every second that I had been gone. He told me how my mother agonized over what had happened, blaming herself for not having been there for me. While he was talking, tears began rushing from his eyes. He told me that he wasn't here to lecture me. He just had one request. He wanted me to drive with him that afternoon to Monsey, NY, and say one chapter of Tehillim at the grave of a certain Tzaddik. As far removed as I was from Yiddishkeit, I was still moved by his request. I told him that I couldn't go that day, but that I would go with him any other time. In truth, I had plans to go with some friends to Atlantic City that evening, and I didn't want to break them. When I told him that I couldn't go that day, he reached across the table and took my hand in his and just looked at me with his tear streaked sad face. I felt my own eyes begin to water, and, rather then have him see me cry I just agreed to meet him later that day.
I made the necessary apologies to my friends, and, later that day, I met my father. We didn't talk much during the trip up. I remember getting out of the car with him, and walking over to one of the graves. He put some rocks on top of the grave and gave me a Tehillim. We must have looked quite strange. My father in his long black coat, a black hat perched on his head, and me, with my leather bomber jacket and jeans. We didn't stay long. Ten minutes after we had arrived; we were on our way back. The return trip was as quiet as the trip there. My father let me off in front of my apartment building. I still recall the words he said to me as I got out of the car. He told me that no matter what may have happened between us, and no matter what may happen, I was always going to be his son and he would always love me. I was emotionally moved by his words, but I was not experiencing the spiritual inspiration he may have been hoping for. I shook my head at his words and we parted company.
The next morning, I woke up to some shocking news. On the way back from Atlantic City, my friends were involved in a head on collision with a tractor-trailer. There were no survivors. As I write this letter, I am overcome with emotion. I made a bris today for my first child. My father was Sandak and, as he held my son on his lap, his eyes met mine and we smiled. It was as if we had finally reached the end of a long journey.
We had never talked to each other about that trip to Monsey, nor had I ever told him about the death of my friends. I just walked back into their home that evening, and was taken back with open arms and no questions asked. I don't think I will ever understand what happened that day. I just know, sitting here late at night, with my son in my arms, that I will try and be the father to him that my father was to me.

MAZAL TOV!!

Chana Nakkar de Toronto et kallah avec Sholom Ber Aharon Bakshi (Arad, Israel).

Mazal Tov!!

moi et dvorah esther

salut les fille, jai vu que ce site/blog ne marche pas toujours et que ilya des filles qui n'arrive plus a afficier des message. Je vais essayer de voir c'est quoi le problem, paciente...
chaya benjaminson

Je voilait souhatais tous les mondes un Chag Sameach!
Enjoy the cheesecakesssssssssssssssss...
Chaya Benjaminson - (Vorst)

Lag Baomer a Kvar Chabad

Pour voir des photos de Lag Baomer a kvar chabad, israel, clickes ici:
http://www.col.org.il/show_news.rtx?artID=29129h

Its Lag Baomer !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LAG BAOMER
Enjoy your day and enjoy your musiccccccccccccccccccccccccc !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Lag Baomer Parade!!!

Attention Everybody:
As you know we are trying to have a Lag Baomer Parade in Crown Heights. The police are so far not giving us eastern parkway, cause they say we dont need it. If they see that there are Hundreds of people attending, the might open up eastern parkway for us. So we ask everybody to come and please be there on time 10 AM (yes, just get up early)!!!! So if you live in Brooklyn, NY or know anyone that lives here please tell them about it, we really need everyone there on time so we can have our parade as planned and give the Rebbe nachas.
Hope to see you there.
chaya

AVIS IMPORTANT

LE GALA DES INSTITUTIONS

BETH RIVKAH

SE TIENDRA LE MERCREDI 30 MAI 2007

A LA CHESNAIE DU ROY

NOUS COMPTONS SUR LA PRESENCE DE TOUT LE MONDE,

AMIS ET ANCIENNE ELEVES !!!!!!

POUR PLUS DE RENSEIGNEMENTS VEUILLEZ CONTACTER

LE 01 69 49 62 62

ma fille Mushka

desole mais c'est en englais

Great Answering Machine Messages

1.. Hi! John's answering machine is broken. This is his refrigerator. Please speak very slowly, and I'll stick your message to myself with one of these magnets.

2.. A is for academics, B is for beer. One of those reasons is why we're not here. So, leave a message.

3.. Hi. Now you say something.

4.. Hi, I'm not home right now, but my answering machine is, so you can talk to it instead. Wait for the beep.

5.. Hello. I am David's answering machine. What are you?

6.. Hi, this is George. I'm sorry I can't answer the phone right now. Leave a message and then wait by your phone until I call you back.

7.. Hi. I'm probably home, I'm just avoiding someone I don't like. Leave me a message, and if I don't call back, it's you.

Voila mes photos de Purim!!

Shabat shalom tous les monde : )

Voila Dvora Aziza tu voulait voir une photo de moi. 'csb' cest moi, chaya sima benjaminson (vorst).

moi et ma fille mushka rivka

Ma Fille Mushka s'amuse avec les magazines

Salut tous les filles, je suis trop contente que tellement beaucoup des fille son venu sur ce blog, (Ken Yirbu). Si vous connaiser des autre fille du sem, envoie moi leur emails. merci.

Voila ma fille Mushka, ella a 8 mois sur la foto.

Bisou a tous, Chaya Benjaminson (Vorst)

Salut
On a cree ce blog, comme ca on poura rester en contact, les filles et profs de Beth Rivkah Yerres S'il vous plait postez des photos de vous meme, ou juste dites "HI".
Si vous etes interesses, envoyez moi un e-mail a chayavorst@yahoo.com, comme ca je peux vous envoyer une invitation, qui vous permetra de poster des choses sur le blog.
Chaja Benjaminson-Vorst