יום שבת, ט״ז אלול תשפ״וSaturday, August 29, 2026
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It was like she had an expiration date stamped on her forehead. Ouch! The very idea sent another stab of pain straight across her temples.
Had he ever cared about me? I think he did – a teaspoonful amount, far too little – but it had satisfied me, sad to say, until that too got swallowed up in his distorted mind.
“Go ahead, rip them all,” I shot back. “It's your money down the drain.” I hung up, breathing hard.
He glared at the coffee and could not bring himself to take another sip. Once again, I saw Reb Getzel creak to his feet. I tried to communicate with my eyes – stop, no more tricks! – but he shuffled over to Binyamin’s side and whispered in his ear.
What in the world had Hashem been thinking when He put me and Binyamin together? Why was I condemned to suffer?
Binyamin is responsible and industrious, an excellent provider. At times he can be quite generous. When I married my husband, we were penniless, you know. I didn’t know if his business would succeed or not, but I took the chance.
Everything changed from that day. No more smiles, no more evening walks, no more asking about the other’s day. Nothing between us would ever be the same.
I heard Binyamin walking up the stairs. I shoved the book back into Binyamin’s jacket. The door creaked open. I took a breath. Another one, and tried to shake off that sour sensation in my stomach.
I read in a magazine that the secret to marital harmony is having separate bathrooms. All my woman stuff that littered the medicine cabinet and sink counter– you know, the tubes and creams and make-up – well, they grated on his nerves.
The real value of money, beyond comfort and security, is its power to buy back time. Time to think. Time to build. Time to teach. Time to parent. Time to choose meaning over urgency.
August 28, 2026 
