Sometimes Hashem puts the right answers in our mouths without
our even asking for it. A recent experience with my children
taught me more than one lesson.
A little background information is necessary. Like many
suburban North Americans, I was born in a home of relative
comfort and ease. The place called my bedroom consisted of a
large mirrored dresser with six drawers, a bookcase to myself
with another four drawers and cabinet, a desk with four more
drawers, two night tables with a drawer and two shelves each
and lastly, a very large closet for hanging space. I guess I
might as well mention that there was a double size bed for my
sole use. All this on a wall-to-wall carpeted floor was my
personal domain during my growing years.
The average-sized family of our social circle was about three
-- in some cases four -- kids per family. A really, really
big family contained five kids! As a young girl, I was
totally enamoured with babies and small children. I just knew
that when I grew up, I would have a lot ... oh, about twenty-
four sounded about right to me. I truly believed that the
winner of the boardgame called Life was the one who could
fill up his car with all those tiny pink and blue pegs
representing children.
As I grew older, Israel called me and pulled at the strings
of my heart. It was my greatest dream to make it my home.
Giving up the potential comfort of life in North America was
not a great difficulty. Luckily, the man who became my
husband grew up in similar fashion and yet felt the same way.
We set up our life and were grateful to be able to purchase
an apartment in Yerusholayim while the prices were still
low.
Hashem has been gracious and blessed us with a large family,
allowing me to realize my childhood dream. No, we haven't
reached twenty-four and it doesn't seem likely, but a very
full apartment we have indeed. To begin with, it happens to
be a slightly small apartment. I probably had almost as much
storage space in the bedroom of my youth, but never mind. As
someone once said, it is a question of wall-to-wall
carpeting, or wall-to-wall children, as it is by us when the
beds are pulled out at night. I prefer the latter.
We aren't ready to make the big move to one of the newer
cheaper outlying areas, and in fact, our Rov told us it
wouldn't be in our best interest. We've considered trying to
buy bigger in the same area but it seems way out of reality.
Then there is the possibility of building out in our own
garden. Unfortunately, not all our neighbors will give their
permission. Around and around this conversation goes. In
truth, the kids are affected by the lack of space and
privacy. Soon our eldest, who's away at yeshiva much of the
time, will be sleeping on the living room couch on his visits
home. He claims not to care.
At times, I must admit, the situation preoccupies my mental
faculties and at other times, I go into bitachon mode
or at least I try to convince myself that's what I feel and
that it will really all end with a happy ending, which all
depends on how you look at it. So the musings go on and off
in the recesses of my mind. I can't say that I don't feel
sorry for myself at times. "I didn't grow up this way. I'm
not like all those Israelis for whom this is second nature,"
I mutter to myself in my weaker moments.
One small incident made me see the situation and myself in a
new light. On a a typically hectic Friday afternoon, trying
to make the last perfections to honor the Queen. My bright,
precocious first-grader was trying to draw me into
conversation. Honestly, I don't recall exactly how it all
started. Here is how I imagine it went:
"Mommy, we have a lot of people in our family, don't we?"
"Yes, Boruch Hashem we do." I'm half listening, half watching
the clock.
"There are some people whose families aren't so big,
right?"
"Yes, but b'ezras Hashem their families will also
grow."
"And sometimes there are small families that have large
apartments." I could hear the tone of voice suggesting that
somehow this was not quite right.
Before I could panic about how I would answer her, the words
just popped out of my mouth. "What?!" I cried out
indignantly. "First they don't have such a large family and
now you want to take away their nice apartment, too?"
It was quiet all around the living room and kitchen. The kids
were listening and absorbing. They had gotten the message.
Suddenly, I realized that I had gotten the message, too.
