Shut Out

“Mr. Goldberger, it’s Chaim Sander calling from Yeshivas Ohel Yaakov with an offer.” Ohel Yaakov was a local elementary school for boys, a small school gradually growing in popularity, and Rabbi Sander, a master mechanech with great ideas, was the menahel. “Our secretary and bookkeeper have been handling the technical end of things here, but we’re growing baruch Hashem, and we’re ready to hire an administrator to get a handle on things and put our finances in order. Would you have time later tonight to meet?”

An activist used to holding two phones at a time with a third one vibrating impatiently on my desk, I thrive on challenge. And with summer in Camp B’Yachad behind me, Hatzalah’s dinner months away, and the last few boys who needed to be placed in schools accepted, things were pretty calm. The idea of helping a cheder struggling financially was appealing.

I jumped right into things, hiring additional staff members, implementing systems, organizing the computer files, and figuring out what was happening financially. The office, which looked like a paper factory hit by a hurricane, was methodically organized. File cabinets were ordered for the important documents, and a giant dumpster was put to good use. After a matter of days, the place was completely revamped.

At the end of September, the first month of the school year, when I strolled down the corridors a few minutes before dismissal to deliver paychecks to the rebbeim and staff members, the surprise and shock was visible on every face. Shaya Eckstein, the 5th grade rebbi, couldn’t contain his disbelief. “You know we haven’t gotten paid in months here, Shloimy. Thank you so much!”