“I have principles. And red lines I won’t cross. I’m where I choose to be, and no Raphael Beigel can drag me down”
Gedalya loves Beit Shemesh,and on Friday night, when he emerges from shul into the open space and fresh air, he decides that he’d prefer to go on living here, even if some anonymous benefactor were to offer him an apartment in Jerusalem.
“Gut Shabbos!” Kibelevitz greets him as he reaches the corner of Rechov Chazon Ish. “How’s it going, Reb Gedalya?”
Gedalya’s two boys walk ahead a bit. His fingers curl around his gartel. “It’ll be all right,” he says. “My daughter got sick, literally, from the idea that we’re collecting money for her.”
If only this were a story for him to mark up in Hamehadhed. He wouldn’t let this happen to a family. In the very next chapter, he’d have them win first prize in a big raffle. And in the chapter after that, the girl would be flying to America for her transplant, and in the next and final chapter, she’d come home with a perfect new ear. The end. Let the whole office complain about it, he would stand his ground. Why did he have veto power, if not for a time like this?
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