Dear Matzav Inbox,
I’ve been following the letters on Matzav.com about the supposed overpricing in kosher supermarkets with great interest. While I can’t claim to know the exact markup or whether these stores are indeed overcharging us, there’s a broader issue that needs addressing.
Why are we putting all the blame on supermarkets? Are they really the only ones taking advantage of our wallets? Let’s take a step back and look at the bigger picture.

Dear Mother in Pain,
Please do not be ashamed that you felt it was necessary to reach out to me for help in such a difficult time in this child rearing stage. I’ve been waiting to hear from you! Hashem has been waiting to hear from you!
My dear daughter, I am looking at you and feeling your pain. I’ve been watching you and Davening for you all these years. The wonderful person you have become, growing up as part of such a beautiful community led by very special dedicated Rabbonim and Askonim. (Here we do not refer to that as a system but rather as a Kehilla). I too grew up in such an environment and treasure that zechus.

Dear Sarah Schneirer,
I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I need your help.
Sarah, I need you to look at me. I was a frum chassidishe girl who grew up in the system. I did everything right. I put my kids into a frum chassidishe system, and look at the pain I carry with me.
My daughter was all of twelve and a half years old when she was already rejected from school. I’m not going to go into detail about that—just the dry facts.
Fast forward four years, and my next child, at sixteen, was also rejected from her school. It’s one year later, and now my fifteen-year-old is without a school one week before the new year is supposed to start.

Dear Matzav Inbox,
I write this with great trepidation, as I am not one who is capable of sizing up an entire klal, yet this tzarah has been nagging at me for a while now, and I must speak out.

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz
Yerushalayim is the city of hidden tzaddikim, who spend their days and nights plumbing the depths of Torah and tefillah with total humility and anonymity. One such person is Rav Abish Tzainvirt. After sleeping a couple of hours each night, he awakens and learns until it is time to leave to the Kosel to daven Shacharis k’vosikin, as he has done daily for the past thirty years.

Dear Matzav Inbox,
As the school year approaches, families everywhere are busy readying their children for a new academic journey. Backpacks are being packed, uniforms are being pressed, and there’s a palpable excitement in the air. But as we prepare for another year of learning and growth, there’s a deep, aching pain that needs to be addressed—a pain that isn’t spoken about nearly enough.
We have a crisis on our hands. A crisis of children—precious, innocent children—who are falling through the cracks of our education system.

To All the Choshuve Readers at Matzav,
L’maan ha’emes, I just had to sit down and write this letter, hoping you’ll take it to heart. I had the zechus to be your son’s madrich this summer, and let me tell you, he’s a really geshmak kid, full of energy, and baruch Hashem, he had a blast in camp. But like all boys his age, he could sometimes get a little too lebedik, if you know what I mean. But that’s all part of the fun, and we madrichim are here to guide them through it.

Dear Matzav Inbox, 
To all my friends and neighbors who had the opportunity to escape to the mountains or wherever you were lucky enough to vacation:
Welcome back home! Though you would have loved to stay, I’m happy to see you all return with glowing tans and sun-kissed faces. I’m truly glad you didn’t have to endure the heat and grind of the city.
As for me, although I dreamed of the country air and a cool, refreshing swim in a clear blue lake, I was among those who stayed behind, keeping watch over the city. Surprisingly, the city was peaceful—the traffic was lighter, the stores were less crowded, and life had a certain ease to it that I could get used to.

Dear Matzav Inbox,
To all my friends and neighbors who escaped to the Catskills or wherever your fancy took you this summer, I have one simple message: Stay there. Don’t rush back with your glowing tans and sun-kissed faces, flaunting your relaxation while the rest of us stayed behind in the heat and grind of the city.
You know, the city was surprisingly peaceful. Traffic was lighter, stores were less crowded, and life had a certain ease to it that I could get used to. We managed just fine without the extra bodies clogging up the roads and sidewalks. We didn’t need your complaints about how much better the weather was in the mountains or how refreshing the lake was.

Dear Matzav Inbox,
As summer draws to a close and the new school year approaches, there is a familiar dread that creeps into the hearts of many parents—the overwhelming burden of purchasing school supplies. What should be a simple task has turned into a financial nightmare, one that seems to grow more burdensome every year.