Although I’ve been widowed for a little over two years, I am very fortunate to be able to continue living in the house my husband and I purchased almost 20 years ago in the heart of the Dallas Jewish community. I often joke with my friends that they’ll have to pry my cold hands off the doorknob before I would move!
But, of course, there’s nowhere on earth that’s a total paradise. Hashem reserves that for the Next World. In my case, the “serpent” in my paradise is a non-Jewish neighbor who often hosts loud parties well into the night. The insistent bass beat comes right through the foam insulation that my husband put onto the window of my home office long ago, as well as through the noise-reducing curtains. It can be difficult to work from home, as I do, with the background of those disturbing sounds. And as a widow, I have to fight a tendency to feel sorry for myself.
That is, until my best friend put everything into perspective for me.
She and I live in different cities, and she lives in a rented apartment. Recently she called me, distraught because her upstairs neighbors have been causing her all kinds of problems. Her apartment has been flooded on more than one occasion; a plumber told her that there was no doubt that her neighbors had caused the trouble. Her neighbors make noise at all hours, banging on her ceiling and causing her distress. Other details that she told me made me suspect that they may be anti-semitic and doing this to her purposely.
Of course I empathized with her and tried to boost her spirits, because that is what friends do. And, having lived in rented apartments myself for years long ago, I could picture myself in her situation and imagine how upset I would be. But later on, I was able to reflect that Hashem had given me this opportunity, not just to do chesed for my friend, but to see my own unpleasant experience in a new light.
That very night, my own neighbor had one of his loud parties. I was working intermittently from home that evening, and when I was done with my work assignments, I was trying to listen to a Torah class online. It was difficult to work and difficult to follow the class.
But this time, my perspective had changed! I reflected that at least I live in my own home, on my own property, and there’s no one banging on my ceiling or flooding my dwelling. I thought sympathetically about my friend as I thanked Hashem for what I have.
As a postscript, even though usually my neighbor’s parties end in the wee hours of the morning, for some inexplicable reason the noise that night suddenly stopped before 9 p.m.!
Hashem allowed me to learn a lesson: It’s all a matter of perspective.
