There is a certain topic that follows us through life – from teenage years until 120 – SHIDDUCHIM! As for myself, with siyata dishmaya, Mr. Right came along rather easily. I began building a bayis ne’eman b’Yisrael. With even more Heavenly intervention the family began to grow.
While I was so busy holding down the fort, the little toddlers with sticky fingers and runny noses, squiggled into little princesses, who swished and shook their full skirts as they hopped, skipped and jumped along until they had morphed into young ladies in full bloom – ready to be picked.
Life had changed irrevocably. No longer was my neighbor the source of rescuing me when I ran out of milk at breakfast – but she had become the all-important name I write down on my child’s resume for references. She, who has three boys in three different yeshivas, became the fountain of knowledge of who was in the shidduch market.
I managed to swim my way through the tidal wave of marrying off my children with Hashem’s unremitting chesed and have landed on solid ground.
We moved to a new neighborhood in its infancy. There was little infrastructure, which resulted in our forging a close relationship with the few people daring enough to move into the nascent community. Our neighbors were our friends and with whom we shared the trials and tribulations of building a new life in a new area. We shared our simchas and hopes for the future. Our children were best buddies and we were one big happy family.
The turmoil called everyday life whisked me along and before I knew it my children’s children were in that unrelenting ride of shidduchim. It was time for us to take a step back and allow our children to move into the driver seat, but once having driven down the road one’s antennas are ever sensitive for signs of new possibilities.
We are mere pawns in Hashem’s Master Plan and He is the Master of shidduchim.
The pawns are moved one step at a time not knowing where it will lead them.
Years later, we moved to a different street. Our old neighbor, Shimon, bumped into my husband and announced that he just retired and was looking for a good morning shiur. My husband who had retired several years earlier plied him with details of the shiur he attended. Shimon was sold and he joined.
We always had a warm spot for Shimon and his family. They were frum, fine and fun. My husband also had always admired Shimon as a lamdan and often said the level of the shiur went up several notches when Shimon became a member.
One day Shimon walked into shiur and announced that he got a mazal tov; a grandson had become a chosson. Curious as to which of Shimon’s children was the parent, my husband enquired.
Oh, it’s Naomi’s son. But not her oldest. Her oldest isn’t interested in dating now. He is seriously learning and he doesn’t want to date yet.”
“Well, Shimon, I have a granddaughter who is looking for just that type of guy. Someone who is really serious about his learning.”
“Wonderful. But he isn’t dating now. He doesn’t want to hear about anyone.”
“But, Shimon. She’s a great girl and if he is Naomi’s son he must be wonderful.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. He’s not listening.”
My husband arrived home brimming with excitement about the engagement. And about his idea for another shidduch. Reaching for the phone he settled himself in his lounge chair and began to type in Naomi’s number.
“Naomi, mazal tov. Your father just told us the wonderful news. We’re so happy. He also told us that this isn’t your eldest son. That the eldest is a serious learner. It just so happens that we have a granddaughter, Gittel’s daughter, who is looking for just such a boy.”
Naomi repeated just what her father had said. He wasn’t ready to listen. Then it was my turn to say mazal tov. Naomi felt somewhat uncomfortable about having been so adamant about her older son and she said. “ Give me your granddaughter’s details and when he does start dating I’ll have the information.”
And I happily revealed the information.
We had three granddaughters, all of dating age, who were good friends. It was a source of nachas for us to see how close they were. When the oldest was 20 she became a kallah. At 21 she was a mother. The youngest, Michal, got engaged at 19. The middle one, Leah, came early to set up at Michal’s engagement and was truly happy for Michal that she had found her bashert.
Leah was the one my husband had wanted for Naomi’s son. We needed to find someone for her. She was smart, cute, quick on her feet, multi-talented and a ba’alas middos. They should be lining up for her. What was taking so long? She had turned 22 and the clock was ticking.
Hashem was about to move another pawn. Michal’s mother-in-law to be, Batya, was very impressed with Leah. She had been so gracious and warm, willing to do anything that needed to be done to set up the engagement. And then she had a thought. Her good friend Naomi had a son who was just starting shidduchim. Leah would be a good match for him!
The next morning Batya called Naomi to tell her she had a good idea for her son.
“What’s the girl’s name?”
“Leah. She lives in Yerushalayim and she studied something very interesting – archiving. And she is a tour guide. And she is fun.”
“Wait a minute – this sounds familiar.”
Naomi ran to get her notebook with all the names suggested for her sons. And there it was Leah. Tour guide and archivist.
“Naomi, I’m telling you. You would really like her, but more important I think it would be great for your son.”
And so Hashem moved two pawns closer to meet each other. The engagement was brimming with good cheer and a fulfillment of a grandfather’s intuition.
When Shimon walked into the engagement my husband made a beeline for him and said, “I told you that my granddaughter would be a good shidduch for Naomi’s son!”
