Leah went downstairs to her neighbor, Varda Rabinowitz,
bearing a fresh apple cake, knowing that Mazel Tov wishes are
always enhanced by a home-made offering. She heard muffled
sounds of moving furniture, and in the backgorund, the
mewling of a newborn baby. A tiny tot opened the door to her
knock, and went to call Ima. As she waited, Leah was
astounded to see various boxes littering the floor;
everything was packed up.
"Oh, hello," said Varda, followed by five little ones in
descending size. Cradling the baby, she dragged herself
wearily to the door. "I appreciate your coming," she said
with a forced smile, at the same time stifling a sigh.
"Mazel Tov for your new baby," said Leah, peeking at the
child who looked as if she were about to cry any minute. As
Varda complained that the baby cried all the time, Leah knew
that a tired, overstrained mother was the reason.
"Have you any help?" she asked. "Are your young sisters
coming at all?" Varda shook her head, saying that since her
father was in the hospital, they were all busy with him. Leah
glanced at the boxes strewn all over the place.
"You must be wondering what this is all about," Varda sounded
upset. "The owner has asked us to leave immediately. The flat
was sold to a young couple."
Leah was deeply troubled. "Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't
you let the neighbors share your trouble and at least let us
help you pack up?"
"It was all so sudden. He told us on Purim and finalized it
on Pesach. We were busy and then there was the new baby. We
thought he would give us a little longer because of our
circumstances but we have to be out in exactly one week, two
days before Lag B'omer."
"Where will you go?"
"We haven't found anything yet, and we haven't really got
enough money to buy anything larger than a two-room flat,
which is not really an option," said Varda gloomily. Leah
couldn't find a single word to solve the dilemma, and putting
on a cheerful face in front of the little ones, went back to
her own flat, two flights up.
That evening, Varda dialed dozens of flats advertised in the
papers. She asked for details but as soon as she said it was
for eight people, she was rejected. Baby was screaming
incessantly. Although it was already very late at night, her
husband Chaim was out flat hunting, otherwise he would have
held her for a while.
What could they do? Where would they go? Not to her parents,
at the moment, and the in-laws were not alive any more. Her
married siblings all lived in terribly crowded conditions and
couldn't possibly take them in. As a drowning man clutches at
straws, she repeated her husband's encouraging maxim, "He Who
gives life, provides for our needs."
Two floors up, Leah was also still up. She was weighed down
by the thought of her neighbor's predicament. Mechanically,
she emptied her sons' trouser pockets as she loaded the
washing machine. Amongst their treasures was a pink slip of
paper with a tempting offer, "Metzia! Flat for Sale,
immediate possession."
In the morning, she took it down to Varda where it joined the
rest of the pile of "Flats for Sale" which had been ruled out
for lack of funds. Varda's husband hopelessly sorted through
the pile in the vain hope of something turning up. The pink
slip caught his eye and when he found out some details, a
sparkle returned to them. There seemed to be hope at the end
of the tunnel.
Yosef and Devoral Carro, originally from France, had bought
this flat for a song, and enlarged it into a beautiful five-
room apartment. Devora was studying in Eretz Yisroel, when
she had met Yosef, who was learning in yeshiva.
Her father, a well known businessman in France, had a soft
spot for `learners.' He came from France before the wedding
and invested a small fortune into this flat. Everything had
to be the best. The furniture and fittings, tasteful decor
and central air conditioning pleased the young couple and
Yosef felt assured that he would be able to study with an
untroubled mind.
The idyllic bliss lasted for two years. Devora was homesick
for her family and friends in France. She had made friends
when she was in seminary in Yerusholayim, but now she lived
in Bnei Brak and had lost touch. She would have liked to
teach, but felt inadequate because of the language. She felt
as lonely as if she were on a desert island. She hid her
misery when she phoned home and while her father was
surprised at her choice, the mother thought she was great.
Month after month, the young woman struggled to overcome her
loneliness. She had more than enough to live on in the
exquisite flat. Besides the generous stipend, her father
often sent them an extra bonus, yet she was slowly sliding
into depression.
One ordinary, too ordinary, evening, as Devora was sitting
despondently in the silent house, the phone rang. Her older
sister, head of a Jewish school in France, told her of a
vacancy at the school, which was just right for her. "If only
you were here," she enthused, "the job would suit you
perfectly."
Tears welled up in Devora's eyes. She was so lonely and
frustrated; perhaps the time had come to go back home?
Yosef knew all about his young wife's problems. Each night
when he returned from kollel, he saw her puffy tear-stained
eyes. He realized only too well that she had not settled down
yet. He agreed with her that they should go `home' for a
while, espeically since she had a job waiting for her. Within
a fortnight, they had packed their belongings and had booked
their flight. "We'll be back within a few years," said Devora
happily, as they locked the door on their lovely furniture
and delightful flat.
Back in France, Devora put her heart and soul into her job.
Yosef had also been offered a position in a yeshiva
ketana, which gave him great satisfaction. He was a
wonderful role model for the boys and people respected him
immensely.
In the long summer vacation, Yosef went back alone to Eretz
Yisroel for three weeks. He had been asked to give a series
of lectures to a group of new immigrants from France. As the
same time, he planned to sell the five room flat. He realized
that they would not be coming back in the near future and
property does not improve from standing empty. Besides which,
he need a sizeable amount of money to publish some
chiddushim he had written.
Yosef put his flat on the market the very first day of his
arrival. The agents in Bnei Brak promised that such a
wonderful flat would be snatched up within a week. A week
went by and most of the second week. Yosef's lectures had
gone very well, but the flat hung like a millstone round his
neck.
"So sorry," apologized the agents. "In this area, people
usually buy very cheap property and improve on it or enlarge
it for their own purposes as time goes on. They don't want to
invest more to start with."
"Maybe we should lower the asking price?" suggested Yosef as
a last resort. He was due to go back in just one week. The
dealers were appalled and scolded him for trying to sell such
a valuable property in such a limited amount of time.
Yosef was determined to sell the flat at all costs, even at a
loss. His father- in-law had warned him before he left that
empty, neglected flats lose their value very quickly. In
France, it would have been unheard of to stick little flyers
with little tails bearing his telephone number on lamp posts.
However, here it was the done thing and Yosef hastened to do
it. The only serious call he had was from the
Rabinowitzes.
"Let's talk," said Yosef as they fixed a time for viewing.
Reb Chaim stood with his mouth agape when he saw the flat. "I
could raise twenty kids here if only I had the money to pay
for it," he thought. It was an unusual request, but Yosef had
asked for ready cash, and he only had enough for a two-room
flat.
"We've scrimped and saved and this is all we can put
together."
Yosef wrinkled his brow and then said, "O.K. it's a deal. I
need the money right now and am happy that the flat is going
to a Ben Torah."
Chaim Rabinowitz was overwhelmed. He told his benefactor that
they only had two days in which to leave their present
address. "How are you going to manage to get yourselves
organized in such a short time?" asked Yosef, looking round
at the bare flat.
"The kids can sleep on the floor till we manage to furnish
the rooms," beamed the happy new owner. The next day, when
money and keys changed hands, the keys were accompanied by a
present. A pair of folding beds for the children! Varda felt
that truly, the one Above had made this deal for them.
He Who gives life, provides for our needs.
