One evening we were on our way to a chasunah and my husband returned to the house to pick up something he’d forgotten. In the two minutes he was in the house the phone rang. The lawyer. A baby. A baby was on the way to the States from Eastern Europe. Would we be ready to meet him the next day at JFK? Yes. Yes. Yes! He gave my husband instructions regarding the legalities and hung up. My husband stared at the receiver in his hand. A baby. But was it a boy or a girl? He called him back: “A boy or girl?” “A boy.” A boy! The next day was the happiest day of our lives. My husband and I both took the day off work and drove to a Toys “R” Us superstore. The fluorescent lighting gave the day an otherworldly glow; a hundred cartoon characters grinned down at us we looked up and returned their smiles. We raced through the aisles throwing in our carts everything we might need for the baby who would be joining our lives in just a few hours. Pacifiers check. Blankets check. Diapers. Wasn’t a diaper just a diaper? Apparently not I realized as I looked at the endless brands and sizes. I picked up a package and examined it. How big was the baby anyway? He was three weeks old but we didn’t know more than that. We took three packages of each. By the time we headed to checkout we had six carts filled with paraphernalia that we had no idea how to use. It was an amazing day.
To read the rest of this story please buy this issue of Mishpacha or sign up for a weekly subscription
