Liba's mouth twitched with disgust as she glared at the wall.
How DO people LIVE like that? she wondered.
Unfortunately, it was her own apartment she was surveying,
and she knew exactly how they lived like that...
Her sister-in-law, Terry, was coming from America on
business, and would be stopping by to visit. Liba imagined
with which eyes Terry would examine their apartment, and felt
herself cringe. Four children under the age of five, plus a
little playgroup she ran in the mornings, accelerated the
rate of wear and tear on the apartment. The walls -- they
were the worst -- looked downright grubby, the second-hand
furniture terribly worn, and the windows were no longer
transparent, being covered with fingerprints and stickers.
Either Liba could justify the mess as being due to morning
sickness that left her with barely enough energy to somehow
put (what passed for) meals on the table, clean laundry in
the drawers, run the playgroup and No More, or she would
wallow in self condemnations.
"Am I lazy or just plain stupid?" she asked herself, deciding
on the second path. "And look how faded the children's
clothes are. Why can't I keep up with things?"
Terry had absolutely no idea what it was like to raise a
family on such a limited budget. She was a single, immaculate
career woman who was the most judgmental human being Liba had
ever met. Liba couldn't hold back a snicker as she remembered
that her husband, Shmuel, was hoping they'd `be
mekarev' Terry when she came.
"Mekarev her???" Liba pointed out what an eyesore
their apartment was.
"Actually, I think the walls are pretty nice," Shmuel said,
and meant it. "Seforim on the shelves and pictures of
tzaddikim on the walls. What could be more
beautiful?"
Liba shook her head in amazement over how opposite Shmuel was
from his sister. Where Shmuel was deep, Terry was
superficial. While Shmuel was accepting, Terry was critical.
Liba realized that although Shmuel and Terry had grown up in
the same house, neither had the foggiest understanding where
the other was coming from.
After consulting with Shmuel's maggid shiur, who even
paid a housecall to see if Liba was exaggerating the extent
of the situation, they followed his gentle advice and...
traded apartments with one of their neighbors whose apartment
gleamed, for the duration of the two days that Terry would be
visiting. They borrowed mint-condition clothes for the
children as well.
Liba arranged for a friend to take over the playgroup for
those days and she, Shmuel and the children had a lovely time
with Aunt Terry. Liba greatly appreciated her neighbor's
surprise of straightening her disastrous apartment while they
had switched apartments.
Then, five months later, Shmuel received a call from a
jubilant Terry. "I've been taking Jewish studies classes
these past months, you know." Shmuel didn't know, but he was
thrilled to hear about it now. "And tonight, the rabbi there
finally solved the mystery."
"What mystery?" Shmuel asked, puzzled.
"When I was visiting you, I noticed something I couldn't put
my finger on, and that I'd never experienced anywhere else.
It was, like, a feeling of `I don't really belong here.' You
know what I mean?"
Uh-oh, though Shmuel. What do I say now?
"...and tonight," Terry concluded, "the rabbi said it's
because there's a place called olam habo, and that's
really where our souls belong, coming home to G-d. I just
felt there was something special about your lifestyle,
something transcendental, yet down to earth, something to
live by. And that's why I've been checking it out."
"Wow!" Liba exclaimed with admiration, after Shmuel told her
about the conversation. "Guess Terry's not so superficial
after all..."
