Better Reception

O n the day of my wedding I went to the Kosel to daven — and also to invite my friends to my wedding. I was a frequent visitor at the Kosel having done 40 consecutive days numerous times and I was friendly with all the unfortunate women there who begged for handouts. Before each of my trips to the Kosel I would prepare a handful of change which I would distribute along with some cheery words. Sure enough all of these women attended my wedding.

They weren’t the only ones who had been the recipients of my largesse. In school I was the friend of all the girls who had no friends. I was the only one who had patience to listen to girls who were intellectually slow or socially challenged and I would nod along with them and pay rapt attention even when I couldn’t understand what they were trying to say.

At home too I was the consummate giver. My parents were American baalei teshuvah who had moved to Eretz Yisrael before it was fashionable and although they were generous people who wanted their children to have whatever they needed the reality was that they didn’t have enough money to go around. I was at the younger end of the family and by the time I reached adolescence my parents were so knee-deep in debt from my siblings’ weddings that I didn’t dare ask them for anything.

Throughout my school years I worked to pay for my own expenses. I cleaned people’s houses. I babysat. I bubby-sat too earning money for sleeping at the home of an elderly woman who needed companionship at night. At the same time I was practically running my parents’ household because home management wasn’t my mother’s strong point.