Unedited 

“Mommyyy! He took my marker!” Tehila’s wail slices through my calm. The kids were coloring happily a minute ago, but now Eli is clutching the contraband marker like a trophy.

I don’t fret; Rebbetzin Finkleman always says that a bit of sibling rivalry can be healthy. Still, too much screaming wouldn’t do either, so I keep my finger on the pulse of their argument as I chop vegetables.

But before it has a chance to escalate, there’s a knock on the door. Funny, I’m not expecting anyone.

My neighbor Daniella Kagan stands there, scrubs wrinkled, ponytail sheitel slipping from its clip, and phone wedged between her shoulder and ear. A toddler is on her hip, with two other kids clinging to her legs.