“RABBI’S MUSINGS (& AMUSINGS)”
Erev Shabbos Kodesh parshas Toldos 5786
Rosh Chodesh Kislev 5786/November 21, 2025
BINAH YESEIRAH
Here’s the understatement of the day: Life is complicated, challenging and confusing. But along the way Hashem provides us with guides – spiritual lights, emotional lights and psychological lights, i.e., great individuals who infuse us with encouragement and chizuk to keep us going.
Personally, my Zaydei, Rabbi Yaakov Meir Kohn, remains one of the illuminating lights of my life. He continues to inspire me constantly, especially now as we mark his 38th yahrzeit on 27 Cheshvan.
A few months ago, I lost another one of the lights and heroes of my life with the passing of my rebbe, Rabbi Berel Wein.
This week our family suffered the loss of someone who has been a tremendous light in our lives, as well as a source of chizuk and love. The sudden passing of Mrs. Binah Kasirer is an irreplaceable loss for all who were privileged to know her and be influenced by her.
Our connection with Rabbi Hersh and Mrs. Binah Kasirer dates back almost to the beginning of our marriage. For a summer after I got married, I was the Head Waiter at Camp Dora Golding. That summer we stayed in an old, small bungalow at the highest point in camp, in an area called the horseshoe. There was one other family up there – the Kasirers. We had one child while the Kasirers already had 7 children living in an impossibly small bungalow. My waiters stayed in the other bungalows in the horseshoe.
Many of my waiters were tough kids, going through “teenage stuff”. The horseshoe was often very messy and, after serving and clearing tables in the dining room, the waiters had no interest in cleaning up their own area. Yet in her sweet way Mrs. Kasirer would call out to the boys “Let’s see who can help clean up.” We couldn’t believe it, but the waiters would gather and do as she asked. With time they would refer to her as the waiter’s Mommy.
A few summers later, in 2009, we moved to a beautiful bungalow on the other side of the camp. To our great fortune the Kasirers had moved into the next bungalow over. Since then, the Staums and the Kasirers have been next door neighbors every summer.
During the last few summers, we also shared a table with the Kasirers in the camp dining room. Every Shabbos, Mrs. Kasirer would bring better quality plastic cutlery and fancy napkins to beautify the Shabbos table. She always made sure to bring for our family and any of our guests as well.
Her love of Shabbos was palpable. Her family related that even after she had finished shopping for Shabbos each week, she would often return to the local grocery to purchase another treat for the family for Shabbos. As her children helped her in the kitchen preparing for Shabbos she would often call out to them, “Remember we’re doing this l’kavod Shabbos!”
When her family arrived at the Kasirer home after her levayah there was some food left out on the counter: Green beans with their ends cut, peeled potatoes and peeled sweet potatoes in water, and challah rolls defrosting. Her counters were always meticulously clean, but those foods were being prepared for Shabbos. Her final act in her kitchen was preparing for Shabbos.
The Kasirers are respected and beloved educators, passionate about Torah learning and teaching, as well as personal growth. Yet they always related to us as equals. Mrs. Kasirer would refer to my wife as her adopted younger sister. You couldn’t ask for a better “older sister”.
Mrs. Kasirer was always talking about Hashem and always found the Hand of Hashem in everything around her. When my wife had to take one of our children for an unnerving medical test years ago, Mrs. Kasirer told her that the challenge was Hashem’s way of giving her a small infusion of emunah.
My wife’s pregnancy with our twins was fraught with challenges. Because the pregnancy was high risk, she had to go to Columbia Hospital in Manhattan for monitoring twice a week. Before the summer we decided that we would be better off at camp than staying home. The problem was that because the nature of my job in camp was so demanding I wouldn’t be able to accompany my wife to the hospital for the biweekly tests. Instead, throughout that summer, Mrs. Kasirer accompanied her on the long trips to and from Manhattan.
We were proud and honored that Rabbi Kasirer named Michael, the second of our twins, at his b’ris, just a few weeks after camp ended that summer.
My wife noted that one would think that someone who worked so much on herself to always accept the will of Hashem without complaint, would be somewhat unable to relate to others complaining about hard times. But Mrs. Kasirer never preached or offered cliche lines. She was a wonderful listener and an incredibly supportive, empathic friend.
Having the Kasirers as our neighbors each summer was a tremendous gift. Not only because of the conversations, advice, listening ear and love, but also because we learned so much from their living example.
Mrs. Kasirer loved davening. Very often when I passed her bungalow during those summer mornings she would be standing on her porch, her eyes closed, deeply immersed in tefillah.
On one occasion, my wife spoke to someone who stayed in the Kasirer bungalow for a Shabbos before the camp season began. The woman noted, “I don’t know whose bungalow that was. But it definitely is someone very holy. There are quotes from tzaddikim hanging all over the bungalow about emunah, bitachon, tefillah and Shabbos.”
At the beginning of the summer, if Rabbi Kasirer and his sons were there when I was unloading my car, they would immediately start helping me schlepp in my stuff. I would jokingly tell them to stop stealing my stuff and just leave it. But they never listened.
Hearing how Rabbi and Mrs. Kasirer spoke to each other, and about each other was a lesson in what an ideal marriage looked like. On occasion I would send Mrs. Kasirer pictures of her husband from around camp. She was always so thankful and proud.
Despite the fact that my wife and Mrs. Kasirer spoke throughout the year, it was never easy saying goodbye to the Kasirers at the end of the summer.
Over the years, we watched the Kasirer family grow and excitedly attended their children’s weddings. We were gratified that Mrs. Kasirer was able to attend our daughter’s vort and then her wedding a few months ago. Although we knew she wasn’t well and it was so hard for her, Mrs. Kasirer completely hid her pain and had her usual smile and warmth.
In conversation with my wife, Mrs. Kasirer once alluded to having been sick years earlier, but she never fully explained what happened. At the levaya we found out the rest of the story.
When they were engaged, Mrs. Kasirer was diagnosed with a serious illness. Rabbi Kasirer was being pressured by people he was close with to break off the shidduch. As she recovered, Rabbi Kasirer sat in the waiting room, flanked by his rebbe, Rav Henoch Lebowitz and his Rebbetzin, and Dr. Feinberg, a prominent doctor and close family friend. Mrs. Kasirer’s doctor informed them that there was potential for long term issues from the sickness. When Rav Henoch asked Rabbi Kasirer what he wanted to do, Rabbi Kasirer replied that he wanted to marry her. Rav Henoch blessed them to build a beautiful family together.
Indeed, over the last 40 years that’s exactly what they did. The Kasirer children all have that trademark warmth, middos and love for Torah and avodas Hashem.
Despite the fact that their married life almost never began, the Kasirers built their marriage on selfless dedication and constant growth together. But it was not easy. Mrs. Kasirer became very sick on 4 different occasions over the years.
During the covid pandemic she was deathly ill, to the point where doctors told her husband to say goodbye to her… on the phone, because she was in isolation! Her recovery was miraculous, but health problems would linger for the rest of her life, including difficulty breathing.
In recent years Mrs. Kasirer was hospitalized numerous times and was constantly in pain and uncomfortable. Amazingly, almost no one knew, because she hid it so well. Even in camp where people saw her every day, only those closest to her knew just how hard it was for her to go through her daily routine.
She was so vibrant and full of simchas hachaim, and was always seeking out the gifts of life that she was thankful for, even in the hardest of times.
This past summer, there were a few Shabbosos when she was unable to walk to the camp dining room because she had terrible pain on the bottom of her feet. For someone so incredibly social, and who loved to hear the Shabbos zemiros, it was especially difficult for her.
On one of those Shabbos mornings, my wife and I went to visit her. She was sitting on her recliner with her usual pile of emunah seforim next to her. After she thanked us profusely for coming (all the way from next door!), she listed a few things that she was particularly thankful to Hashem for.
After we left, I told my wife I that Mrs. Kasirer is messing things up for all of us. When we arrive at the World of Truth, if we try to offer excuses about why we couldn’t accomplish things during our lifetimes because it was too hard for us, heaven will ask us if we had it worse than Binah Kasirer.
Mrs. Kasirer loved to learn and loved to teach. When she would hear a Torah thought she often closed her eyes and swayed gently, clearly trying to internalize the message.
Yet, at the same time, she also knew how to have a good time. She arranged women’s get togethers in camp a few times during the summer and during the winter as well.
Mrs. Kasirer was detail-oriented and thought through every part of every event, including the food that would be served based on what people appreciated, the game they would play, who the speaker would be, who would watch the kids while the parents attended, and what games to bring for kids to play with during the event.
Her family related that whenever there was a special event, such as the birthday of someone in the family, Mrs. Kasirer would hang up posters, balloons and streamers all over the house.
There were times when I or my wife mentioned to her about trips or events our family had done that Mrs. Kasirer decided to also do with her family. But while our boating trip was just that, hers included her children bringing along guitars and having a picnic and kumzitz.
This past summer when I would ask Rabbi Kasirer how his wife was doing, he would reply, “Today is good so far. But we really can’t know what will happen. We live with Hashem and will see what He wants from us today.” I couldn’t get over the calmness and sincerity of how he said it. He and his wife lived a life of bitachon together.
This past Thursday, Mrs. Kasirer went to teach her parshah class like she’s done for many decades. She told her students that although it may have seemed that Sarah Imeinu died because of the news of the akeidah, that is in fact not accurate. Rather, she died because it was her time! (That was actually the second parshah class Mrs. Kasirer taught that day. During the earlier class, she related the same idea but uncharacteristically repeated those words – “She died because it was her time” – three times.)
Right after saying those words, Mrs. Kasirer sat down and fainted. As a hatzolah member rushed in, Mrs. Kasirer opened her eyes and asked him, “What’s happening? Why am I not at home?” When he told her that she fainted she said, “Oy Hashem!” Those were her final words. She died the way she lived – with the name of Hashem on her lips.
Many noted that Mrs. Kasirer’s levayah was the greatest mussar class they ever attended. As Rabbi Kasirer related afterwards, the heartfelt eulogies contained no exaggeration or hyperbole.
I would often say to her “You know, there’s no Jewish magazine called Dani. But there is one called Binah.” Indeed, articles can be written (and hopefully will) about the lessons she taught through her words and by her sterling example.
My final text correspondence with her was a few months ago, shortly after camp ended. It was regarding a trip her family went on that we had suggested. She thanked me and told me that they had a great time. I wrote back to her: “That’s great! So happy it worked out for you. Have a great Shabbos. We miss the Kasirers!” She replied: “And we so miss the Staums & the special reality that comes with!!!!!”
Mrs. Kasirer, you are finally free of pain and on your way to enjoy the incredible olam habah you’ve undoubtedly earned. But I can honestly say that now and forever – We will so miss you and the special reality that comes with!!!!!
Shabbat Shalom & Good Shabbos,
R’ Dani and Chani Staum
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