am very angry, but it’s possible that you’re not the one I’m angry at. So, my name is Blumi Hartstein. I want to know if you’re donating a sefer Torah to the Yotzei Eretz Chanichei Hayeshivos community in Romema?” “Yotzei Eretz?” “It’s actually an acronym for Aram Tzova. You know, the Halabi community.” “Oh, yes. That’s us.” Elisheva stood up and went over to the railing. “How did you get to me?” “Dweck, their gabbai, gave my husband your name.” “I see. So, how can I help you, Mrs. Hartstein?” “Do you have a son, a yeshivah bachur, about twenty or twentyone years old?” “No.” “No?” “I have an eighteenyear-old son.” “Eighteen? Um… could be. Does he learn mishnayos for niftarim at night?” “What?!” “Does he learn mishnayos for deceased people at night? You know, when the levayah only takes place the next morning.” “Not at all.” This phone call was getting more bizarre by the second. “No?” The singular syllable was enough to indicate to Elisheva that the woman’s voice had faltered somewhat. “No…?” Until now, Elisheva had felt under attack, without knowing why. But now she suddenly sensed something weak and fragile about the caller. “No,” she repeated in a gentle tone. “I’m sorry.” “You’re sorry? What about?” “That I can’t help you.” “Well, maybe you can still help me, even if it’s not your son.” “Who is not my son?” There was clearly something not right with this woman. “The bachur whom I gave the
envelope to.” “Envelope?” “Yes. You don’t know anything about it?” Elisheva tried to remember. “No,” she said calmly. The woman’s voice sharpened again. “Then how did our silver yad ‘mysteriously’ make its way to you, Mrs. Potolsky?” ***** “One mystery has been resolved, but only partially, in my opinion.” Elisheva leaned on the couch and sorted men’s shirts for ironing. “So it seems that one of our old neighbors’ sons got the envelope from this woman, and his younger brother or sister must have found it and then came down to our apartment to
“He must have lost it.” “So how did he not try to search for it? How come he didn’t get back to Mrs. Hartstein, at least to apologize? Let her know? Why did he just disappear?” “As long as we don’t know what happened, how can we judge him? The main thing is that the yad was now found. She gave you some signs?” Elisheva smiled. “Yes, but she’d already seen the picture of it.” “One small, blurred picture. But you said that she knew the exact size, and that it’s smaller than the standard yad.” “Right.” Elisheva became thoughtful. “This story is so strange.” She placed one of Binyamin’s shirts in the pile. “I’m trying to think who from our old building could have done it. There are three bachurim of the right age, but it’s certainly not Brody’s son. His parents wouldn’t let him do such a thing.” “Which thing?” “To go learn for niftarim in the middle of the night…” “He’s twenty-three already, isn’t he?” “Still. I don’t think it’s a place for a yeshivah bachur, and I’m sure that Chaya Brody agrees with me about that. Their home is one with a very strong chinuch. Not that I mean to say anything about the others…” “So do you want to call the other two families?” “Why? The yad will be returned to its owner.” “And we’ve found one solution to one of these recent mysteries…” He chuckled and stood up. “You know, it’s likely that the other things are as simple as they seem, and there’s nothing mysterious about them.” She looked at him questioningly. “Are you sure?” “Sure? I can’t be sure about something I don’t know. But I imagine so.”
“You’re right,” the woman said, the slightest bit contrite now. “I am very angry, but it’s possible that you’re not the one I’m angry at.”
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play with it one afternoon. You know, we often hosted lots of kids in the afternoons…” “Yes,” Eliyahu said, listening attentively. “And it’s possible that the bachur did not see our ads about the yad that we found, because he’s in yeshivah. And his parents didn’t know about it. And the little boy or girl doesn’t know how to read.” “Okay.” Eliyahu shook his head slowly from side to side. “But it’s also possible that the bachur himself read the ads, but just didn’t know what was in the envelope that he had been given.” “But he should know that he hadn’t returned the envelope to its owner, no?”