Shades of Regret

As told to Rachelli Saffir

I disliked her from the moment I saw her when she entered the center bearing two degrees and a brand-new sheitel. The new program coordinator was bubbly enthusiastic — and different. Barely out of a baalas teshuvah seminary.

I squirmed in my seat as Mrs. Spielman director of Our Special Children after-school center introduced her. There were 26 of us volunteers we’d been doing this for two years already knew the children inside-out — from little Aharon of the floppy limbs and lopsided goofy smile to Sara’le broad-shouldered and slow-moving who signed because she couldn’t speak. We could handle them in our sleep and here was an inexperienced newcomer who was going to come and tell us all what to do.

My friend Shaindy winked at me as Mrs. Spielman wound down her introduction and Ilana Gray stepped up. “Let’s hope she’s a short-and-sweet kind of speaker ” she whispered. “She looks nice!”

I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t like her ” I said.