Debunking Viral Claim About the Talmud and Minors
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Four lessons you’ve taught me as a Jewish mother.
After many decades of serving on the New York Supreme Court, where you changed hundreds of lives and mediated thousands of cases, you are officially retiring from the bench. I want to take this moment to thank you for the lessons you have taught me. These four lessons changed my life and the lives of your grandchildren.
One of the most inspiring parts of watching your career was that even during the height of feminism, you never sought to become like the men around you. For years, in many rooms, you were either the only woman or one of just a few at the table. But you taught me that in Judaism and in life, women have unique gifts, and we should never be afraid to use them.
You were not like the other judges. Your empathy and talent for resolving disputes quickly earned you the reputation of one of the best in your district. You always spoke up and never apologized for being exactly who you were—a woman who knew the power of her wisdom and her ability to help others.
Thank you for teaching me to be strong, to honor my unique gifts, and to never fear speaking up. Because of you, I am proud to be a Jewish woman today.
You raised me with such a deep love for Israel that, as a child, I thought everyone who lived there was actually part of our family. And you didn’t just donate—you went there at every possible opportunity. Whenever there was a mission during war or times of crisis, you used your vacation days to visit the sick in hospitals or bring toys to children in the south under rocket fire.
Even without knowing much Hebrew, you made friends everywhere you went. After October 7th, you joined one of the first missions to visit hostage families and bring clothing and gifts to displaced families. Though told to avoid political positions as a judge, you refused to remain silent. “Standing up for Israel is not politics,” you said. “It’s supporting my homeland. No one will tell me I can’t pray for the return of our hostages in public.” And so you wore a necklace with the hostages’ names every day—at work, in court, and while traveling—never letting their suffering be forgotten.
Thank you for teaching me that Israel is our home, and that our hearts are always in the East.
No matter how hectic the week was, you always stopped everything for Shabbat. Your entire staff knew that as sundown approached on Friday afternoon, the Judge was leaving the courthouse—no exceptions. Even when you were running for office, you refused to campaign on Shabbos, despite your campaign manager insisting that the most important events were on Saturdays.
And you didn’t just stop for Shabbat—you loved it. You didn’t need to tell me Shabbat was a gift; I saw it in how you counted down the days each week. Every Friday night you welcomed guests into our home—people who might otherwise never have experienced a Shabbos dinner. Even some of the non-Jewish lawyers and judges asked to return for the fresh challah, roast chicken, and Kiddush that sanctified the week’s end.
Thank you for showing me what it means to love Shabbat and to treasure it as the gift it truly is.
From the outside, people assume your success meant you always knew where you were going. But as your daughter, I know the road was never smooth. Many times, you had no idea what lay ahead—you simply took the next right step, even if it meant risking failure. And whenever you set out to achieve something, you persisted until every option was exhausted.
This is the lesson I am most grateful for. Because of you, I don’t take failure personally. I remember one election night when you lost by just half a percent. I asked what you would do next, and you simply said: “I’m going to run again. Not someday—tomorrow.” And the very next day, you started a new campaign.
This is your legacy: Never give up, because your mission is waiting for you. Life’s purpose comes from the meaning we create. The Jewish people need you. Israel needs you. Recognize the gifts you’ve been given, and use them to bring light into the world.
I heartily join in all of the plaudits to Her Honor and her daughter.
That said, and without in any way detracting from this inspirational article, I hasten to inform the uninitiated that in the State of New York, the tribunal known as the "Supreme Court" is the LOWEST state court of general jurisdiction; appeals from its judges' rulings are taken by the relevant Department of the Supreme Court, Appellate Division, from whence they go (subject to a relatively complex set of qualifying requirements) to the Court of Appeals of the State of New York, the state's highest court.
So be impressed by Her Honor's achievements (which I most certainly am), but do not overvenerate the bench upon which she so honorably sat all of these years.
Beautiful homage to your mother.
This is a tribute to a mother from a loving daughter; and, an example of how to anchor the four foundational corners of a house of faith built on stone.
Thank you for the example, and the reminder.
Good year. Remain steadfast.
Mazel tov upon your retirement. May you continue doing your support for your family and Israel. Thank you Debbie for the wonderful tribute to your mom. May you all have a healthy happy new year.
I am the retiring Judge and have had a wonderful career as a Judge but most importantly I have the best daughter who is a wonderful writer and mother of 5 .As I have always told the lawyers who appeared before me family comes first and one is truly blessed when you have a job you love and a loving family. Israel has been apart of my grandparents life; my parents, my life and my children and grandchildren. At my retirement party tomorrow evening( which will be the first kosher retirement party in the district), my granddaughter , Miriam will be flying in from Tel Aviv where she is an attorney with the Meitar Law Firm and will be one of the main speakers. She is married and has made her home in Israel. She is one of Debbie’s 5 children and may there be peace in Israel.