In other words, something far, far out of my stratosphere.
Aside from that, I’d never really thought much about what actually went into making a shidduch — the grueling, 24/7, non-stop marathon of calls, counseling, meetings, arrangements, and calming Chani’s hysterical mother on one line while placating Yanky’s angry mom on the other — until my own son started shidduchim.
Suddenly, my eyes were opened. These people were superheroes!
Now, shidduchim isn’t exactly a forgotten topic in our community. (In fact, if you search really hard, you might even find an Inbox letter or two on the subject.) But how often do we stop and consider what it’s like to be a shadchan?
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