That night, Shifra called, frantic. Rina was freaking out, crying that she couldn’t go through with it
Shani Leiman with Zivia Reischer
When I was newly married, I lived in Eretz Yisrael and taught in several seminaries. I was young and energetic, and I really tried to connect with “my girls.” Huvie was one example — she’d had a negative high school experience and didn’t see the beauty of Yiddishkeit (to put it mildly). To make things worse, her only sister had just gotten married and didn’t have much time to listen to her anymore.
I spoke to her for hours, answering her questions while she figured herself out. I coached her through relationship issues and tried to support her fragile self-esteem.
In my role as a shadchan, I still encounter “Huvies” — boys or girls who need that extra coaching and guidance to navigate shidduchim. I try to give them everything I gave my students.
Rina was one such case. I’d never met Rina or her mother, Shifra, but I got to know them over many hours on the phone. Rina was a new dater — I set her up with her first boy — and as her mother put it, she “didn’t really know what she was doing.” I coached her on how to turn a question into a more elaborate conversation, how forthcoming to be, how much interest or restraint to show, even how competitive to be when playing a game on a date.
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