[Editor's note: the following is not meant to be a green
light
for everyone to sign up as guarantors. We must continue to
protect
ourselves, but not overprotect ourselves. And the message
remains
clear and valid: there is only One Guarantor.]
Seven years ago, with all the innocence and hope of
newcomers, we
attempted to buy our first apartment in Israel. This
experience, looking
back on it now, was not very different from two other major
life events:
planning our wedding and having our first child. Although we
knew
the end result would be worth it, the experience itself was
fraught
with tension, drama, a multitude of frustrations and, of
course, most
importantly and first and last, Divine intervention.
We had no idea that this simple purchase would turn out to be
so difficult
and complicated. Among the varied obstacles, we discovered
that no
matter how much (or how little) money we had or what kind of
mortgage
we could get, the bottom line was -- we would need
guarantors.
Three legal guarantors. Areivim.
How quickly I grew to detest that word. But even if we could
get people
willing to sign for us, they had to meet certain criteria.
First,
they had to be Israeli citizens. That, in itself, was a
problem. New
immigrants ourselves, most of our friends were in the same
category.
They also had to be employed with a provable salary and
paycheck.
Another problem, since my husband was learning in a kollel at
the
time, as were most of his friends. Others we knew worked
unofficially
or in home-based jobs without those crucial payslips. All in
all,
it was a most worrisome situation.
Then, to top it all off, a local newspaper came out with an
article
pointing out the dangers involved in being a guarantor, with
frightening
real-life stories of what could happen if the apartment owner
stopped
making his payments and the guarantor was left `holding the
bag'.
Someone else told me an alleged true story of how a guarantor
was
arrested and hauled off to jail in the middle of his Purim
seuda.
At first he thought it was a poor Purim joke, but,
unfortunately,
it wasn't.
With all that, we began to lose hope of ever being able to
buy our
own apartment and almost became resigned to being doomed to
remaining
permanent renters, having to move every few years. Then, one
day at
the bus stop, I noticed a young mother struggling to get her
baby
and stroller onto the bus. Although my youngest child was
then four
and past the age of strollers, I could still vividly remember
my own
struggles of boarding and alighting from buses that way. I
rushed
over to help, she thanked me and we chatted all the way to
town.
I saw this woman, we'll call her Tova, around the
neighborhood a few
times after that and we greeted each other at the women's
Shabbos
shiur, but that was about it.
One morning, after a quick trip to the store, I bumped into
her again
and we walked down the road together. She asked how I was and
I spontaneously
poured out all my frustrations about trying to buy an
apartment, especially
the guarantor problem. Tova listened sympathetically and
mentioned
that when they had tried to buy their apartment two years
previously,
the law then required FIVE guarantors! With great difficulty,
they
had managed to find four people, but time was quickly running
out
and they still could not fine anyone else. She went to the
bank, and,
with a feeling of total desperation, which I could fully
relate to,
watched as a religious man signed to be someone else's
guarantor.
Tova walked up to this stranger, explained the problem, and
asked
him if he would sign for her, too. Although he had never seen
her
before in his life, the man miraculously agreed. A few
minutes later,
her husband walked in with their rov, their fourth
guarantor.
The rov and the kind stranger knew each other and, of
course,
the former vouched for Tova and her husband. A true case of
Divine
Providence.
Then Tova, who had experienced this amazing act of
chessed,
turned to me and spoke a few, wonderful quiet words. "I'll
sign
for you," she said. She did not hesitate with, "Well, I'll
ask my husband and we'll think it over," or "I'll let you
know," like others we had asked -- and whose answers we were
still waiting for. In fact, I hadn't even asked Tova at all!
She had
volunteered. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for her deed of
pure
kindness and trust.
One act of chessed surely leads to another. And that
was how
I found myself at the bank, not long ago, signing for another
couple.
Having lived in a tiny apartment for years and outgrown it by
far,
they wanted to buy a larger place for their expanding family.
Although
busy with my son's bar mitzva preparations at the time, I
went to
sign for them. Indeed, I felt compelled -- and glad -- to do
so. And when they thanked me, I told them this story.
I have since discovered that the modern term for signators
goes all
the way back to Mt. Sinai -- kol Yisroel AREIVIM zeh
lozeh.
We are all responsible for one another. And indeed, we should
be concerned
about each other and try to help when and where we can.
Let us keep the chain of kindness going. It doesn't have to
be only
for the big, important things in life, like signing for
someone's
apartment. It can be any small and simple act of kindness,
performed
daily as the opportunity arises, like helping a mother and
her baby
onto a bus. Or holding a door open for a person with
packages, or
cooking a meal for someone who is ill or after birth. You
never know
where these things can lead...
A friendly smile, a phone call, a compliment or word of
encouragement,
like ripples in a pond that expand. Cast your favors upon the
waters
and watch them spread.
An act of chessed -- pass it on.
Editor's Note: There are currently no official regulations
governing
the need and number of guarantors. Different banks have
different
requirements, and sometimes, some of them, can be flexible in
their
requirements. Readers can let banks know that the number of
guarantors
they must bring is an important factor in their choice of a
mortgage
bank. It makes a difference.
