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Kosherpages Updates

March 05 Kosherpages launches 

December 05 - KP goes national.

June 06 - KP launches business networking events

January 07 - 1st B2B tradeshow

January 08 - 1st Kosher Lifestyle Show

August 08 - Parent & child networking event at the Odeon Manchester

September 08
- Launch of new film review section

September 08 - KP announces The Fed as chosen charity for this year

November 08 - Launch of new Medical Blog By Dr. Martin Harris

March 09 - Kosher Lifestyle Show Manchester

March 09 - Launch of The Kosher Brochure

May 10 - New Owners of KosherPages

June 10 - New look KosherPages

July 10 - KosherPages expands to include Jewish communities nation wide

July 10 - Pick of the Week is introduced to KosherPages - A joke, a quote, a Dvar Torah and more

August 10 - KosherPages now has a Facebook group - come and join us!

November 10 - Your health matters is added to KosherPages

November 10 - New addition to KosherPages - Kosher Fitness column

January 11 - KosherPages introduces "Your Pix" to Pick of the Week

July 11 - Safety First section is added to KosherPages

November 11 - The KosherPages Facebook group reaches 1,000 members

November 11 - KosherPages introduces the monthly competition

March 12 - KosherPages introduces new style "Shabbos Times & More" email. Click here to subscribe.




Do you have any inspirational thoughts or stories that you would like to share on KosherPages?

If so we would love to include it, please use our contact form to send it through to us.

Norway, I cry for you

Wednesday, 27th July 2011


An Arab woman from Qatar taught me how to mourn the Norwegian children.

by Sara Yoheved Rigler

Click the image below to read this inspiring article at Aish.Com

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A great Jewish Bronx tale

Tuesday, 19th July 2011


The South Bronx, in 1950 was the home of a large and thriving community, predominantly Jewish.  In the 1950s the Bronx offered synagogues, mikvas (ritual baths), kosher bakeries, and kosher butchers - all the comforts one would expect from an observant Orthodox Jewish community. 

The baby boom of the post war years happily resulted in many new young parents.  As a matter of course, the South Bronx had its own baby equipment store, Sickser's. 

Sickser's was located on the corner of Westchester and Fox, and specialized in "everything for the baby" as its slogan ran. 

The inventory began with cribs, baby carriages, playpens, high chairs, changing tables, and toys.  It went way beyond these to everything a baby could want or need.  Mr Sickser, assisted by his son-in-law Lou Kirshner, ran a profitable business out of the needs of the rapidly expanding child population. 

The language of the store was primarily Yiddish, but Sickser's was a place where not only Jewish families but also many non-Jewish ones could acquire the necessary for their newly arrived bundles of joy. 

Business was particularly busy one spring day, so much so that Mr Sickser and his son-in-law could not handle the unexpected throng of customers.  Desperate for help, Mr Sickser ran out of the store and stopped the first youth he spotted on the street.  "Young man," he panted, "how would you like to make a little extra money? I need some help in the store.  You want to work a little?"

The tall, lanky black boy flashed a toothy smile back.   "Yes, sir, I'd like some work."
"Well then, let's get started."

The boy followed his new employer into the store.   Mr Sickser was immediately impressed with the boy's good manners and demeanor. 

As the days went by and he came again and again to lend his help, Mr Sickser and Lou both became increasingly impressed with the youth's diligence, punctuality, and readiness to learn.  Eventually Mr Sickser made him a regular employee at the store.  It was gratifying to find an employee with an almost soldier-like willingness to perform even the most menial of tasks, and to perform them well. 

From the age of thirteen until his sophomore year in college, this young man put in from twelve to fifteen hours a week, at 50 to 75 cents an hour.  Mostly, he performed general labor: assembling merchandise, unloading trucks and preparing items for shipments.  He seemed, in his quiet way, to appreciate not only the steady employment but also the friendly atmosphere Mr Sickser's store offered. 

Mr Sickser and Lou learned in time about their helper's Jamaican origins, and he in turn picked up a good deal of Yiddish. 

In time the young man was able to converse fairly well with his employers, and more importantly, with a number of the Jewish customers whose English was not fluent.  At the age of seventeen, the young man, while still working part-time at Sickser's, began his first semester at City College of New York.  He fit in just fine with his, for the most part Jewish classmates; hardly surprising, considering that he already knew their ways and their language. 

But the heavy studying in the engineering and, later, geology courses he chose proved quite challenging.  The young man would later recall that Sickser's offered the one stable point in his life those days. 

In 1993, in his position as the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, two years after he guided the American victory over Iraq in the Gulf War, General Colin Powell visited the Holy Land   Upon meeting Israel's Prime Minister Yitzhak Shamir in Jerusalem, he greeted the Israeli with the words

"Mir ken reden Yiddish" (we can speak Yiddish). 

As Shamir, stunned, tried to pull himself together, the to-be Secretary of State continued chatting in his second-favourite language.  Colin Powell never forgot his early days working at Sickser's.

The Reunion

Thursday, 14th July 2011


While waiting to pick up a friend at the airport, I had one of those life-changing experiences that you hear other people talk about — the kind that sneaks up on you unexpectedly. This one occurred a mere two feet away from me.

Straining to locate my friend among the passengers deplaning through the jet way, I noticed a man coming toward me carrying two light bags. He stopped right next to me to greet his family.

First he motioned to his youngest son (maybe six years old) as he laid down his bags.  They gave each other a long, loving hug.  As they separated enough to look in each other’s face, I heard the father say, “It’s so good to see you, son. I missed you so much!”  His son smiled somewhat shyly, averted his eyes and replied softly,  “Me, too, Dad!”

Then the man stood up, gazed in the eyes of his oldest son (maybe nine or ten) and while cupping his son’s face in his hands said, “You’re already quite the young man.  I love you very much, Zach!”  They too hugged a most loving, tender hug.

While this was happening, a baby girl (perhaps one or one-and-a-half) was squirming excitedly in her mother’s arms, never once taking her little eyes off the wonderful sight of her returning father.  The man said, “Hi, baby girl!” as he gently took the child from her mother.   He quickly kissed her face all over and then held her close to his chest while rocking her from side to side.  The little girl instantly relaxed and simply laid her head on his shoulder, motionless in pure contentment.

After several moments, he handed his daughter to his oldest son and declared, “I’ve saved the best for last!” and proceeded to give his wife the longest, most passionate kiss I ever remember seeing.  He gazed into her eyes for several seconds and then silently mouthed.  “I love you so much!”  They stared at each other’s eyes, beaming big smiles at one another, while holding both hands.

For an instant they reminded me of newlyweds, but I knew by the age of their kids that they couldn’t possibly be.  I puzzled about it for a moment then realized how totally engrossed I was in the wonderful display of unconditional love not more than an arm’s length away from me. 

I suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if I was invading something sacred, but was amazed to hear my own voice nervously ask, “Wow! How long have you two been married?
“Twelve years.”  he replied, without breaking his gaze from his lovely wife’s face. 
“Well then, how long have you been away?” I asked. 
The man finally turned and looked at me, still beaming his joyous smile.  “Two whole days!”
Two days? I was stunned. By the intensity of the greeting, I had assumed he’d been gone for at least several weeks – if not months.
I said almost offhandedly, hoping to end my intrusion with some semblance of grace (and to get back to searching for my friend), “I hope my marriage is still that passionate after twelve years!”
The man suddenly stopped smiling.
He looked me straight in the eye, and with forcefulness that burned right into my soul, he told me something that left me a different person.  He told me, “Don’t hope, friend… decide!”  Then he flashed me his wonderful smile again, shook my hand and said, “G-d bless!”

The blind girl

Wednesday, 6th July 2011


There was a blind girl who hated herself just because she was blind.  She hated everyone, except her loving boyfriend.  He’s always there for her.  She said that if she could only see the world, she would marry her boyfriend.

One day, someone donated a pair of eyes to her and then she was able to see everything, including her boyfriend.
Her boyfriend asked her, “now that you can see the world, will you marry me?”
The girl was shocked when she saw that her boyfriend is blind too, and refused to marry him. Her boyfriend walked away in tears, and later wrote a letter to her saying. “Just take care of my eyes dear.”
This is how the human brain changes when status changes.

Only few remember what life was before, and who has always been there even in the most painful situations.

The Old Mule

Wednesday, 29th June 2011


This parable is told of a farmer who owned an old mule.  The mule fell into the farmer’s well.  The farmer heard the mule praying or whatever mules do when they fall into wells.  After carefully assessing the situation, the farmer sympathized with the mule, but decided that neither the mule nor the well was worth the trouble of saving.  Instead, he called his neighbors together, told them what had happened, and enlisted them to help haul dirt to bury the old mule in the well and put him out of his misery.

Initially the old mule was hysterical!  But as the farmer and his neighbors continued shoveling and the dirt hit his back, a thought struck him.  It suddenly dawned on him that every time a shovel load of dirt landed on his back, HE WOULD SHAKE IT OFF AND STEP UP!

This he did, blow after blow.  “Shake it off and step up … shake it off and step up … shake it off and step up!”  He repeated to encourage himself.  No matter how painful the blows, or how distressing the situation seemed, the old mule fought panic and just kept right on SHAKING IT OFF AND STEPPING UP!

It wasn’t long before the old mule, battered and exhausted, stepped triumphantly over the wall of that well!  What seemed like it would bury him actually helped him  . . . all because of the manner in which he handled his adversity.

THAT’S LIFE! If we face our problems and respond to them positively,  and refuse to give in to panic, bitterness or self-pity, we can climb out of every hole we fall into.

Jokes and tears

Wednesday, 22nd June 2011


A wise man once spoke to a large audience & cracked a joke.
Everyone laughed like crazy.
After a moment he cracked the same joke again and a little less people laughed this time.
He cracked the same joke again & again.
When there was no more laughter in the crowd, 
he smiled and said  ......

"If you can't laugh at the same joke again & again,
why then do you keep crying over the same thing over and over again.
'Forget the past & move on'…

A Friend in the highest of places!

Wednesday, 15th June 2011


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The Rabbi and the Paratroopers

Monday, 6th June 2011


Click here to watch a video of a wonderful, heartwarming story
about Rabbi Yitzchak Dovid Grossman, from Migdal HaEmek,
and paratroopers from the IDF's Brigade 85 during the Second Lebanon War.

Click here to find out more about Rabbi Grossman and Migdal Ohr

Video by Moshe Buzaglo,, English subtitles by Yosef Kaner.

What goes around comes around

Wednesday, 1st June 2011


One day a man saw an old lady, stranded on the side of the road, but even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled up in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her.

Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her?  He didn’t look safe; he looked poor and hungry. He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold.  He knew how she felt.  It was those chills which only fear can put in you.  He said, “I’m here to help you, ma’am. Why don’t you wait in the car where it’s warm?  By the way, my name is Bryan Anderson.”

Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough.  Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two.  Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt.

As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to talk to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through. She couldn’t thank him enough for coming to her aid.

Bryan just smiled as he closed her trunk.  The lady asked how much she owed him.  Any amount would have been all right with her.  She already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped.  Bryan never thought twice about being paid.  This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and G-d knows there were plenty, who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way. 

He told her that if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance they needed, and Bryan added, “And think of me.”

He waited until she started her car and drove off. It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.  A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. 

It was a dingy looking restaurant.  Outside were two old gas pumps.  The whole scene was unfamiliar to her.  The waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair.  She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn’t erase.   The lady noticed the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude.  The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger.  Then she remembered Bryan.

After the lady finished her meal, she paid with a hundred dollar bill.  The waitress quickly went to get change for her hundred dollar bill, but the old lady had slipped right out the door.  She was gone by the time the waitress came back.  The waitress wondered where the lady could be.   Then she noticed something written on the napkin.

There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote:  “You don’t owe me anything. 
I have been there too. Somebody once helped me out, the way I’m helping you.
If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do:
Do not let this chain of love end with you.”
Under the napkin were four more $100 bills.

Well, there were tables to clear, sugar bowls to fill, and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day.  That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written.  How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it?  With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard …. She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low, “Everything’s going to be all right. I love you, Bryan Anderson.”

There is an old saying “What goes around comes around.” 

Don't be too quick to judge

Wednesday, 25th May 2011


A woman was waiting at the airport one night,
With several long hours before her flight.
She hunted for a book in the airport shop,
Bought a bag of cookies and found a place to drop.

She was engrossed in her book, but happened to see,
That the man beside her, as bold as could be,
Grabbed a cookie or two from the bag between,
Which she tried to ignore, to avoid a scene.

She read, munched cookies, and watched the clock,
As the gutsy “cookie thief” diminished her stock.
She was getting more irritated as the minutes ticked by,
Thinking, “If I wasn’t so nice, I’d blackened his eye!”

With each cookie she took, he took one too.
When only one was left, she wondered what he’d do.
With a smile on his face and a nervous laugh,
He took the last cookie and broke it in half.
He offered her half, as he ate the other.
She snatched it from him and thought, “Oh brother,
This guy has some nerve, and he’s also rude,
Why, he didn’t even show any gratitude!”

She had never known when she had been so galled,
And sighed with relief when her flight was called.
She gathered her belongings and headed for the gate,
Refusing to look back at the “thieving ingrate.”
She boarded the plane and sank in her seat,
Then sought her book, which was almost complete.
As she reached in her baggage, she gasped with surprise.
There was her bag of cookies in front of her eyes!

“If mine are here,” she moaned with despair,
“Then the others were his and he tried to share!”
Too late to apologize, she realized with grief,
That she was the rude one…the ingrate…the thief!


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