In the beginning of a marriage, a couple is merging two lives into one. Past histories, experiences, habits and expectations are brought together to form one new unit. And then there’s the stuff – unpacking boxes and suitcases of two lives into a temporary abode.
For lovers of learning, merging two sefarim collections is nothing short of a delight. During the first month of our marriage, we were living in an apartment for the summer in New York so I could finish my master’s degree. Our sefarim had not been unpacked, so we didn’t know what we had and what we didn’t have as a new couple.
We saw a sign advertising sefarim for sale in a neighboring apartment and eagerly checked it out, excited to add to our soon-to-be collection. It was a young woman’s apartment, and there were shelves of her seemingly untouched sefarim for sale, notably an immaculate set of Michtav M’Eliyahu and a hard-to-find Alei Shor, which we promptly grabbed.
I wondered then: Why is she selling these new sefarim from her bookshelf in Washington Heights? Were they not wanted anymore? I had a nagging feeling there was more to the story.
Over the years, I’ve witnessed many people struggle with their Yiddishkeit, shedding values and practices over time and sometimes leaving all together. And I’ve never forgotten the young woman selling her sefarim. Was she just selling her unwanted books, or was she’s getting rid of something else? And why?