SERIAL
Stone Chaya’s Story: It was the first time I felt. When do I notice that my legs and my rib cage exist? My arms; I wrap my tefillin around them so tightly, they often develop welts. It’s the way my father put them on me the first time, and so I continue to do. My toes; how could I not feel them when my shoes are small and rubbed out from the insides and stub the ends of my toenails? But I’ve never felt as alive as I did when I delivered that stove to a home in Bayit Vegan, with a nameplate on the door that read “Baum” and a kitchen that boasted pasta mixed with mayonnaise and small pieces of fleisch. I had to haul that machine up three flights. And let me tell you, a stove like that — complete with an oven where you can bake your own challah and cake at home, plus four flames and a little fire oven on the bottom to char whatever it is people char when they have enough food that they’re willing to char some of it — weighs more than a two-year-old tantrumming baby. I schlepped it up. Then
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/ T HE MONS E Y V IE W
by Chany Rosengarten
Recap: Chaya’s store is causing her perpetual stress, and her children are not responding well to the upheaval in their lives. Rachamim demonstrated how to attach it to the pipe that led to the gas balloon on the bottom floor. We secured
And that’s when I would’ve fallen over myself and down a flight of stairs, had I not gripped the railing to steady myself. it to the wall. We turned it on, just to make sure the flames would burst out into the little oven meant for charring and warm the larger oven above. It did. After that, I straightened up, slapped my palms together, brushed off my pants, and wiped the sweat off my forehead. The Baum woman offered us a bottle of Cola and two cups, so I drank my fill, and boy was it good. Sweet, and oh so cold. She already had a refrigerator. One of these days, she might want one of those air conditioners that cool the house into a winter night. Then she paid Rachamim, and gave me twenty lira. I stared at it dumbly, and Rachamim closed my fingers over it, said
goodbye to the woman, and ushered me out the door. “It’s for you, motek. A tip.” And that’s when I would’ve fallen over myself and down a flight of stairs, had I not gripped the railing to steady myself. Because I suddenly realized, it’s not just my salary I am getting for the job. When you sit over a bowl of diamonds, some diamond dust inevitably sprinkle and sparkle onto your clothes. Rachamim laughed all the way down the stairs, because he could read me like an open book and he enjoyed my surprise and excitement. So I allowed myself to laugh, too, to lean my head back into the moment and laugh until it hurt. We got into his truck and continued making our deliveries. In some places, we only got out and went to fix someone’s broken pipe. Rachamim has all these tools and glue and tape and what not. I felt the elation that comes with heavy physical labor, the sort where an aura