"Why are we choking ourselves?!"
Miri almost dropped the pot she was washing. "What are you
talking about, Dovid? You're choking? You don't feel
well?"
Dovid rolled the corner of the page of figures he was working
on and gritted his teeth. "We just made a bar mitzva last
year for Zev. Why are we making a bar mitzva now for
Rifka?"
"Rifky? Dovid, are you sure you're O.K.? Rifki is getting
married. She's not having a bar mitzva. You know that."
"Then why are we renting the same hall that we rented for
Zev's bar mitzva?"
Miri looked searchingly at Dovid, then spoke slowly. "We're
renting the hall for Rifky's vort."
"What for?"
"Dovid, what do you think? For the neighbors to come and wish
us `Mazel Tov.' "
Dovid rubbed his beard and sighed. "Do we really have to do
this? I'm going through the figures here for putting together
the wedding and seeing what we can come up with to help Rifky
and her chosson start to set up their new home.
Everything costs... A lot. If we could cut out the non-
essentials, we'd have less to borrow to pay for the things we
really need. Can't the neighbors just call us up and wish us
`Mazel Tov'? Or maybe they could say it to us at the
wedding."
"But everyone makes an engagement party," Miri said, somewhat
doubtfully.
Dovid sighed again. "Miri, we're not living our lives. We're
living other people's expectations."
They were both silent. Then Miri cleared her throat, stating
rather than asking, "This is probably the wrong time to talk
about Zev getting a new suit, isn't it."
"But Zev hasn't grown much since his bar mitzva. Why does he
need a new suit?"
Miri coughed. "Um, he says that now the style is black with
these thin white lines."
"You're right, Miri. This is the wrong time to talk about it,
or maybe it isn't... I don't understand. Since when should
yeshiva boys be interested in styles? I can understand that
they need to look respectable and have clean, ironed shirts,
but whose idea is it to change styles?
"When our children were born, I happily accepted the
responsibility to pay for their food and clothing, their
tuition and medical expenses. What I have a problem with is
shelling out money for the `We don't need it but it seems
like everyone else is buying it' category. I just can't
fathom it, Miri. We Bnei Torah are supposed to be as
intelligent as the general population. Why, then, are we
acting so irrationally?"
"You mean keeping up with changing styles?"
"Yes, that's part of it. I do wonder why for Rivky's wedding
Esty can't wear what Rivky wore to her cousin's wedding."
"But Dovid, that was six years ago! True, the sizes are the
same but no one wears that style nowadays."
"So?"
"Well, we don't want to look cheap."
"I am not being cheap," Dovid said with dignity. "I am trying
to be economical, to live within our means so that we can
continue to provide our children with necessities like food,
without sinking into debt. If it means forgoing some fluffy
little extras and setting an example for other people of how
not to go overboard, so be it."
The phone rang merrily and while Dovid went to answer, Miri
finished the dishes and started going through the local
directory for names and numbers of whom to invite. Certainly
to the wedding. As for the vort...
Dovid returned a few minutes later. "That was our future
mechuton. He was very apologetic, but wanted us to
know that on Sunday night he gives a shiur, Monday
night he has a very important chavrusa, on Tuesday
night he learns with his sons and on Wednesday... Well, you
get the picture. I don't know if he's short on money —
and who isn't before a wedding — but he is short
on time. I told him that if he wants, we can skip the
vort." Dovid chuckled. "He couldn't stop thanking
us."
"So that's it? No eirusin?"
"Tell me, do you really have the time to do all the baking
and phone calls and preparations for it?"
"I guess not. Last year, I wasn't working, so I was able to
do Zev's bar mitzva, but this year..."
"You know, Miri, I think we're doing the neighbors a favor,
too. There is so much going on at night in our community
— PTA meetings, shiurim, fundraising events, bar
mitzvas and so on. Why pressure people to squeeze in an
unnecessary night out?"
"What do you mean `unnecessary?' "
"Because we hope they'll be coming to the wedding! Why make
them shlep out again?"
"O.K. So what's next on the agenda?"
[Raizel gave the editor two choices of endings, one of them
being the idea of a wedding in a park. Miri and I both
discredited this as a winter option. Having passed the first
hurdle, though, we will let the subject rest for the
meanwhile and have the `last vort.']
