There are so many reasons not to send a child to public school. Of course, the obvious, number one reason – it deprives the child of an authentic Torah education. But there are other, less obvious reasons. Even in the 1950s, when this story begins, public schools had problems.
I grew up in a traditional family, where we kept the major Jewish holidays, but my parents insisted on sending me to public school. Because I had skipped a grade, I was younger than almost all of my classmates. Because of that and other factors – my intelligence tests showed a very high IQ but my social sense was not nearly as developed – I soon found myself excluded in school.
In the fourth grade, a group of popular girls formed a “secret social club,” and they went out of their way to exclude me. I was laughed at and ostracized. In the fifth grade – public schools of course being mixed, boys and girls together – I had my eye on a boy who scorned me and called me a shnook.
But it was in the sixth grade that I felt the most humiliated, when the class chose partners for the “sixth grade prom.” The only ones left unchosen were me and a very unpopular boy with a speech defect. Of course, that meant that he and I had to pair up for that occasion.
Against all odds, I got married; I was sure I was destined to be an old maid. But when I started having children, I learned more about authentic Judaism, and I was determined to give my children a good Jewish education. I was resolved, too, that they should not have the kind of experiences I had had in public school. A Jewish day school would educate them without mixing boys and girls together.
Against all odds, again – since my husband was not religious – I got my wish. Miracle number one.
My marital life, however, was marked by abuse, divorce, and remarriage, in a seemingly unending cycle. The years went on, very stormily most of the time. But, against all odds, I became the mother of a large family of children.
Somehow – whether it was because of their good Jewish education or simply because Hashem was good to me – they all grew up as observant, practicing Jews. They, in turn, married and had their own large families.
Today, against all odds, I have many, many grandchildren and even a few “greats.” All of them know what authentic Torah Judaism is, and most of them observe it. Somehow that got passed down to my third generation – against all odds.
But Hashem doesn’t work with odds. He’s the One Who throws the dice, and He’s the One Who determines how they will fall. I can only thank Him humbly for His kindness to me.