Features
Four years after launching her dream project, Jacquie Seipp has seen “One More Candle” spread around the world
By BERNIE BELLAN
A while back I was speaking with Jacquie Seipp who, four years ago, came up with a novel and very thoughtful idea: Invite individuals and groups to participate in commemorating the memories of the “1.5 million children murdered in the Shoah”.
We’ve written before about Jacquie’s project, which became known as “One More Candle” – and Jacquie herself has produced an excellent brochure describing how One More Candle came about. As well, last year Sharon Chisvin wrote a very good article for the Free Press which you can access online titled “Non-profit remembers lost generation”.
Recently, I had a long conversation with Jacquie during which we discussed the history of the project which she had started – and how successful it’s been, but it was when Jacquie told me that she had spent the winter in Israel, I began to think that, if I were to write about One More Candle, I would also want to include a mention of what Jacquie had done in Israel this past winter as well – which really has nothing to do with One More Candle.
Here then is a brief description of what One More Candle is all about, taken from the brochure that Jacquie has put together:
“More than a decade ago at Yom Kippur High Holy Day services, while remembering the Shoah (Holocaust)…the story that 93 girls chose to take their own lives rather than allowing their bodies to be used and desecrated as sexual objects for Nazi officers…caught me in a way that I had not felt before. Their last plea was ‘all we ask is, say Kaddish for us. For all 93, say Kaddish’.”
The brochure goes on to describe how Jacquie began to formulate an idea in her mind that would involve getting people to light candles for each of the 1.5 million children who perished in the Shoah. She discussed her idea with Rabbi Green at the Shaarey Zedek, who was extremely supportive. Eventually she fleshed out the idea with members of the congregation.
Jacquie took her idea to representatives of Yad Vashem, which provided a database of names of children whose memories could be preserved through One More Candle.
Then, in the midst of planning One More Candle, as Jacquie notes: “While considering how to move forward on this, my mother (z”l) passed away.
“From sad things, good things happen,” she writes in the brochure.
In November 2015 the Manitoba Theatre Centre produced a play titled “Wiesenthal”. As Jacquie explains, attending that play “helped solidify the idea” of bringing One More Candle to fruition.
In her words, “Wiesenthal” is “about an ordinary man who acted extraordinarily to bring light to the darkness of the Holocaust. Simon Wiesenthal always had a sunflower on his desk as he searched for the murderers of six million Jews….As each show ends, as he leaves the stage, Wiesenthal takes the sunflower, and gently hands it to one person in the audience.” (Jacquie was the recipient of the sunflower the night she attended the theatre.)
“Receiving that sunflower broke me,” she write. “I knew that One More Candle was bashert (meant to be) and that I, an ordinary woman, have been divinely given an extraordinary task.
“One More Candle took form in April 2016.”
The One More Candle brochure goes on to describe what individuals can do to help perpetuate the memory of one of those 1.5 million children murdered in the Shoah:
Contact One More Candle at www.onemorecandle.org
“Upon adopting a child of memory, light a candle on the yahrzeit (anniversary) of the child’s passing. (Reminder: add your adopted memory’s name to the yearly yahrzeit list at your synagogue.)
“Lighting a candle in honour of those who have passed is a tradition to express what we cannot communicate with words.
“With each candle, the life of a child who lives – and was murdered, is remembered and honoured.”
Although One More Candle is a registered charity, “there is no charge to adopt a memory”, the One More Candle brochure states, noting though that “donations are graciously accepted and contribute to honouring the memories of children murdered in the Shoah.”
In the fall issue of the Shaarey Zedek bulletin, known as the “Shofar”, Jacquie provided an update of how One More Candle has progressed.
Shaarey Zedek was the “first synagogue to accept the adoption of the memories of 399 children (365 + 29 – can’t forget the leap month of Adar II) who were murdered in the Shoah. Each one of their names is called daily at minyan services throughout the year.
“Since the inception of One More Candle in 2016, there are synagogues across Canada – in Ontario, Manitoba, Alberta, and Saskatchewan, as well as the United States, that support the project. People from around the world have also chosen to adopt the memory of a One More Candle child.
“Bar and Bat Mitzvah children have also made the commitment of adopting a memory.”
As the back of the One More Candle brochure says: “We are committed to one simple act: Remember.”
As I noted at the beginning of this story, Jacquie also spent a good part of this past winter (prior to the onset of the pandemic) in Israel, volunteering on a military base with Sarel, the organization for older volunteers who would like to contribute in some way to the Israel Defense Forces.
While on the base (Base 559, Mishmar Ha Negev, west of Be’er Sheva), Jacquie says, she was joined for two weeks by Patrick Elazar, who is well known to many Winnipeggers for the many ways in which he contributes to our community.
During their time together Jacquie and Patrick planted a tree together. I asked Jacquie if she could send me some pictures of her and Patrick, which we have included with this story.
Features
Optimizing mobile wagering convenience with bassbet casino
The rise of mobile technology has transformed the way people engage with betting platforms. In this digital era, bassbet has emerged as a frontrunner in optimizing mobile experiences for casino enthusiasts. This article explores how bassbet casino is enhancing mobile wagering convenience.
Mobile technology has revolutionized the betting industry, providing users with unprecedented convenience and accessibility. Bassbet casino has capitalized on this trend by offering a seamless mobile wagering experience. By integrating user-friendly features and cutting-edge technology, the platform ensures that it is both accessible and engaging for users on the go.
Enhancing user experience with mobile technology
Bassbet casino leverages the latest mobile technology to enhance user experience. The platform’s intuitive design and easy navigation make it simple for users to place bets from their mobile devices. This focus on user experience ensures that players can enjoy their favorite games without any hassle.
Furthermore, the platform offers a wide range of games optimized for mobile play, ensuring that users have access to the same variety and quality as they would on a desktop. This adaptability is crucial in maintaining user engagement and satisfaction, as it allows players to enjoy their gaming experience anytime, anywhere.
The responsive design philosophy adopted by the platform ensures that every element of the platform scales perfectly across different screen sizes and device types. Whether users are accessing the casino through smartphones or tablets, the interface automatically adjusts to provide optimal viewing and interaction. This technological sophistication extends to touch-optimized controls, swipe gestures, and quick-loading graphics that minimize data consumption while maximizing visual appeal. The platform also incorporates intelligent caching mechanisms that remember user preferences and frequently accessed games, creating a personalized mobile environment that becomes more intuitive with each visit.
Security and reliability in mobile wagering
Security is a top priority for bassbet casino, especially when it comes to mobile wagering. The platform employs advanced security measures to protect user data and ensure safe transactions. This commitment to security builds trust among users, making it a reliable choice for mobile betting.
In addition to security, the company focuses on providing a reliable and stable platform. The casino’s mobile interface is designed to handle high traffic and deliver a smooth gaming experience, minimizing disruptions and ensuring that users can enjoy uninterrupted play.
Innovative features for mobile users
The company continuously innovates to offer unique features tailored for mobile users. From personalized notifications to exclusive mobile promotions, the platform ensures that its mobile users receive a premium experience. These features not only enhance user engagement but also encourage loyalty among players.
By staying at the forefront of mobile technology, the platform remains a leader in the online betting industry. Its commitment to optimizing mobile wagering convenience sets it apart from competitors, making it a preferred choice for casino enthusiasts worldwide.
Features
Why People in Israel Can Get Emotionally Attached to AI—and How to Keep It Healthy
Let’s start with the uncomfortable truth that’s also kind of relieving: getting emotionally attached to a Joi.com AI isn’t “weird.” It’s human. Our brains are attachment machines. Give us a voice that feels warm, consistent, and attentive—especially one that shows up on demand—and our nervous system goes, “Oh. Safety. Connection.” Even if the rational part of you knows it’s software, the emotional part responds to the experience.
Now, if we’re talking about Jewish people in Israel specifically, it’s worth saying this carefully: there isn’t one “Jewish Israeli psychology.” People differ wildly by age, religiosity, community, language, politics, relationship status, and life history. But there are some real-life conditions common in Israel—high tech adoption, a fast-paced social environment, chronic background stress for many, and strong cultural emphasis on connection—that can make AI companionship feel especially appealing for some individuals. Not because of religion or ethnicity as a trait, but because of context and pressure.
So if you’ve noticed yourself—or someone you know—getting attached to an AI companion, the goal isn’t to panic or label it as unhealthy by default. The goal is to understand why it feels good and make sure it stays supportive rather than consuming.
Why attachment happens so fast (the psychology in plain language)
Attachment isn’t just about romance. It’s about regulation. When you feel seen, your body calms down. When you feel ignored, your body gets edgy. AI companions can offer something that’s rare in real life: consistent responsiveness. No scheduling. No misunderstandings (most of the time). No “I’m too tired to talk.” Just a steady stream of attention.
From an attachment perspective, that steadiness can act like a soft emotional “hug.” For someone with anxious attachment, it can feel like relief: finally, a connection that doesn’t disappear. For someone with avoidant tendencies, it can feel safe because it’s intimacy without the risk of being overwhelmed by a real person’s needs. For someone simply lonely or stressed, it can feel like a quiet exhale.
And unlike human relationships, AI won’t judge your worst timing. You can message at 2:00 a.m., when your thoughts are loud and the apartment is silent, and you’ll still get an answer that sounds caring. That alone is powerful.
Why it can feel especially relevant in Israel (for some people)
Israel is a small country with a big emotional load for many people—again, not universally, but often enough that it shapes daily life. A lot of people live with a background hum of stress, whether it’s personal, economic, or tied to the broader environment. When life feels intense, the appeal of a stable, gentle interaction grows. Not because you’re fragile—because you’re tired.
Add a few more very normal realities:
High tech comfort is cultural. Israel has a strong tech culture. People are used to tools that solve problems quickly. If you’re already comfortable with digital solutions, trying an AI companion doesn’t feel like a strange leap.
Time is tight. Between work, family responsibilities, reserve duty for some, long commutes, or simply the pace of urban life, many people don’t have the energy for long, messy social processes. AI can feel like connection without the logistics.
Social circles can be both close and complicated. Israeli society can be community-oriented, which is beautiful—until it’s also intense. In tight-knit circles, dating and relationships sometimes come with social pressure, opinions, and “everyone knows everyone.” A private AI chat can feel like a relief: no gossip, no explanations, no performance.
Language and identity complexity. Many Jewish Israelis move between languages and cultures (Hebrew, Russian, English, French, Amharic, Arabic for some). AI chat can become a low-stakes space to express yourself in the language you feel most “you” in—without feeling judged for accent, vocabulary, or code-switching.
None of this means “Israelis are more likely” in any absolute sense. It means there are situational reasons why AI companionship can feel particularly soothing or convenient for some people living there.
The good side: when AI attachment is healthy
Emotional attachment isn’t automatically a problem. Sometimes it’s simply a sign that something is working: you feel supported. You feel calmer. You’re expressing yourself more. You’re practicing communication instead of shutting down. You’re less likely to make impulsive choices from loneliness.
Healthy use often looks like:
You feel better after chatting, not worse.
You can still enjoy your real life—friends, work, hobbies, family.
You don’t hide it in shame; you just treat it like a tool or pastime.
You use the AI to practice skills you bring into real relationships: clarity, boundaries, confidence, emotional regulation.
In that version, AI companionship is closer to journaling with feedback, or a comforting ritual—like a cup of tea at the end of the day, not a replacement for dinner.
Where it can slip into unhealthy territory (quietly)
The danger isn’t “having feelings.” The danger is outsourcing your emotional world to something that will never truly share responsibility.
Warning signs usually look like:
You cancel plans with humans because the AI feels easier.
You feel anxious when you’re not chatting, like you’re missing something.
You start needing the AI to reassure you constantly.
Your standards for human relationships collapse (“Humans are too complicated, AI is enough”).
You feel a “crash” after chatting—more lonely, more restless, more disconnected.
The biggest red flag is when the AI becomes your only reliable source of comfort. That’s not because AI is evil. It’s because any single source of emotional regulation—human or non-human—can become a dependency.
How to keep it healthy (without killing the fun)
Here’s the approach that works best: don’t ban it, contain it.
Give it a role.
Decide what the AI is for in your life: playful flirting, stress relief, practicing communication, roleplay, bedtime decompression. A defined role prevents the relationship from becoming vague and all-consuming.
Set a “time container.”
Not as punishment—just as hygiene. For example: 20 minutes at night, or during commute time, or only on certain days. Ending while you still feel good is the secret. Don’t chat until you feel hollow.
Keep one human anchor active.
A friend you text, a weekly family dinner, a class, a gym routine, a community event—something that keeps your real social muscles moving. In Israel, community can be a huge protective factor when it’s supportive. Use it.
Use consent and boundary language even with AI.
It sounds odd, but it trains your brain in healthy dynamics:
“Slow down. Keep it playful, not intense.”
“No jealousy talk. I don’t like that vibe.”
“Tonight I want comfort, not advice.”
If you can do that with an AI, you’ll be better at doing it with humans.
Watch the “replacement” impulse.
If you catch yourself thinking, “I don’t need anyone else,” pause and ask: is that empowerment—or is it avoidance? Sometimes it’s a protective story your brain tells when it’s tired of disappointment.
Check in with your body after.
Not your thoughts—your body. Calm? Lighter? More grounded? Good sign. Agitated? Empty? Restless? Time to adjust.
And if you’re noticing that AI use is feeding anxiety, sleep problems, isolation, or obsessive thinking, it may help to talk to a mental health professional—especially someone who understands attachment patterns. That’s not a dramatic step. It’s basic self-care.
People in Israel—Jewish Israelis included—can get attached to AI for the same reason people everywhere do: it offers consistent attention in an inconsistent world. Add the local realities of stress, pace, and social complexity, and it can feel even more comforting for some individuals. The healthiest path isn’t to judge yourself for it. It’s to use it intentionally, keep your human life active, and treat the AI as a supportive tool—not the center of your emotional universe.
Features
Three generations of Wernicks all chose to become rabbis
By GERRY POSNER Recently I was at a Shabbat service at Beth Tzedec Synagogue in Toronto and the day unfolded in some unexpected ways for me.
It began when I was asked to be a Gabbai for the service, that is to stand up at the table where the Torah is placed and to check the Torah reading to make sure there are no errors. I have done this before and it has always gone smoothly. I attribute that fact in large part to the Torah reading ability of the reader at Beth Synagogue. He is fast, fluent and flawless. Well, on this particular day after he had completed the first two portions, he began the shlishi or third aliyah. I could not find his reading anywhere. It was as if he had started somewhere fresh, but not where he was supposed to be. I looked at the other Gabbai and he did not seem to recognize what had happened either. So, I let it go. I had no idea where the Torah reader was. He then did another and still I was lost. He came to what was the 6th aliyah when a clergy member walked over to him and indicated to him that he had read the fourth and fifth aliyah, but that he had missed the third one. The Torah reader then said to me “this is what you are here for.” Now, it might have been one thing if I had missed it entirely. Alas, I saw the error, but let it go as I deferred to the Torah reader since he never makes a mistake. He ended up going back to do the third aliyah before continuing on. This was a very unusual event in the synagogue. I felt responsible in large part for this gaffe. A lesson learned.
The feeling of embarrassment was compounded by the fact that on this particular day the service was highlighted, at least for me, because of the rabbi delivering the sermon. This rabbi, Eugene Wernick, was none other than the father of my present rabbi, Steven Wernick of Beth Tzedec Synagogue. He was also the same rabbi who was the rabbi at Shaarey Zedek between 1979-1986 and who had officiated at my father’s funeral in 1981, also a few years later at my oldest son’s Bar Mitzvah in Winnipeg in 1984. As I listened to him speak, I was taken back to the 1980s, when Rabbi Gene was in the pulpit at Shaarey Zedek. Of course, he is older now than in his Shaarey Zedek days, but the power of his voice was unchanged. If anything, it’s even stronger. As in the past, his message was relevant to all of us and resonated well. Listening to him was a treat for me. Still, my regret in not calling out the mistake from the Torah reading was compounded by the fact that I messed up in front of my former rabbi, Eugene Wernick – never mind my present rabbi, Steven Werinck.
On this Shabbat morning, aside from all the other people present, there were not only the two Rabbis Wernick, but one Michelle Wernick was also there. Michelle, daughter of Rabbi Steven Wernick, is a first year student at the Jewish Theological Seminary. She is following in the family business – much like with the Rose rabbinical family in Winnipeg.
As it turned out, there was a Bat Mitzvah that day. And the Bat Mitzvah family had a very real Winnipeg connection as in the former Leah Potash, mother of the Bat Mitzvah girl, Emmie Bank and the daughter of Reuben and Gail Potash (Thau). It occurred to me that there might be a few Winnipeg people in the crowd. As I scanned the first few rows, I was not disappointed. Sitting there was none other than Chana Thau and her husband Michael Eleff. I managed to have a chat with Chana (even during the Musaf service). In the row right behind Chana and Michael was a face I had not seen in close to sixty years. I refer to Allan Berkal, the eldest son of the former rabbi and chazan at Shaarey Zedek, Louis Berkal. I still remember the first time I met Allan at Hebrew School in 1954 when his family moved to Winnipeg from Grand Forks, North Dakota. That was many maftirs ago. So this was another highlight moment for me.
Of course, there are other Winnipeggers who attend Beth Tzedec most Shabbats. I speak of Morley Goldberg and his wife, the former Marcia Billinkoff Schnoor. As well, Bernie Rubenstein and his wife, the former Sheila Levene were also present for this particular Shabbat. In all, this Shabbat had a particularly Winnipeg flavour to it. Truth be told, you do not have to go far in Toronto at any synagogue and the Winnipeg connections emerge.