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You unpacked, you settled and your kids started day camp. Time to celebrate! Come on over to Greenfresh this Sunday and pick up your freebies and your Rosh Chodesh fun!
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Grab your people and head to the new Hoopla for nonstop fun and excitement! Enjoy interactive arcades and experience the thrilling Dome 7D adventure.
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Summer Sparks
PIRKEI AVOS 4, 1
"Who is mighty? He who subdues his inclination, as it is stated, 'He who is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who captures a city.'"
Our house was closing in on us.
We were still in the 2-bedroom rental we had been in since our marriage. At the time, I remember admiring the spacious kitchen, the beautiful bedroom with our newly arrived furniture, and the cozy dining room.
Now, the kitchen didn’t feel as spacious anymore with two high chairs, a baby swing, and a playmat. Our bedroom was crowded with a crib and stroller in addition to the furniture, and our cozy dining room was overrun by toys.
The baby slept in the master room, and the 3 other little ones slept in the second bedroom, between a high riser and crib. But there was no closet space
for all their things, no storage space for things they outgrew, and no space for all their toys.
It was time for a move.
My husband contacted brokers and we discussed exactly what we needed.
We needed something in decent condition, so we wouldn’t have to invest much upfront. Preferably with a tenant apartment, so we would have the income in the beginning. And of course, a house that was within reasonable walking distance of our parents and shul. Houses became the new backdrop to supper and bedtime.
A beautiful house came up, for a decent price, but it was an hour's walk from our parents and siblings.
We wanted to be able to walk over to our parents for the suedos, or spend shalash suedos with siblings. And our shul was too far to even think about walking over on Yom Tov.
Another house was listed, a charming, large house much closer to home, and we dared hope this was itbut then we heard the price, and it stopped us in our tracks.
We went to look at a house only a few minutes away, for a great price, only to realize very quickly after touring the dilapidated property why it was priced that way. It would need costly renovations before we could even think of moving in.
In the beginning, just the thought that we were going to move kept me going, and made our little apartment seem just a little bit bigger and more livable. But after five months of scouring the market with no success, our spirits began to sag .
Every time my toddler needed the bathroom while I was bathing my baby in our only bathroom, I would let out an exasperated sigh.
Eeach time my four-year-old woke up at the crack of dawn and woke the two siblings sleeping in the room with him, I would feel the tears spilling over.
This was not working. We needed out. And finally, after six endless months of searching, we hit gold.
A close friend of my father-in-law was selling a house he had lived in years earlier.
It was in the perfect location, more perfect than we could have thought possible.
The house was in decent condition, needing minimal work to make it livable.
It was a beautiful property and had large, spacious rooms.
The price was within our budget, and best of all it even had a tenant apartment.
We went to look at it. Immediately, we started visualizing how we could expand the kitchen, convert the two bedrooms into a large playroom, and turn the downstairs into a home office or private suite.
We could already envision pictures of children adorning the buffet, our dining room furniture in the large room with even larger windows.
We went outside to explore the exterior, and a friendly neighbor approached and introduced herself. She exclaimed how amazing the neighborhood was, that it was the type of block where they sat outside every day for hours, said Tehillim together every Friday night, and borrowed things from each other all the time. There was even a shul on the block.
Within two minutes of talking to her, we were fast friends and I saved her number to my contacts.
That clinched it. Great location, neighborhood, and price - what more could we ask for?
We immediately called the seller with an offer. He said that someone else had given in an offer two days previously, but he assured us that the house would be ours.
We couldn’t believe our good fortune. A day later he called back to say that our offer was accepted.
Heart suffused with joy and appreciation, I prepared a spice rub for spare ribs and peeled potatoes and peppers for my husband’s favorite side dish. I even set the table with my nice china.
My four-year old noticed my extensive preparations and piped up, “Is Totty making a siyum?”
I laughed. “No, tzadik, but we’re making a nice supper to thank Hashem for helping us find a huge new house with a back porch for you to play and really nice neighbors.”
His eyes opened wide. “Are we really going to move?” He repeated.
I tickled him on his nose and he giggled. “Yes, B’ezras Hashem.”
“Tomorrow?”
“It’s still going to take a few weeks or months,” I explained. “But then we’re going to have a much nicer, bigger house. It’s even going to have a playroom!”
“And two bathrooms and a room just for me and Chany so we shouldn’t wake up from Shimmy’s crying and a bookshelf for all our books?” He asked breathlessly.
I confirmed with a nod, and he jumped for joy and ran off to spread the news.
The next day, we set a date to sign the contract.
I looked around my two-bedroom apartment but my mind saw the new house with its five large rooms.
This was really happening. We were done with this apartment, on to bigger and better. And then one day, my husband happened to mention to his father that someone else had given in an offer before us.
His father‘s response was grave: he said there
might be halachic ramifications, and we had to ask a sheila.
I felt sick when I heard. This was our house, I could practically see myself living there already. It belonged to us! The seller himself had chosen us as the buyers!
I was scared to hear the outcome of a call to our Rav and Dayan, but too apprehensive to postpone it.
“Just call,” I told my husband after two hours of pacing as I restlessly picked up toys and socks from the floor and mindlessly dropped them back a moment later.
He called. Our Rav listened carefully, said he would think about the matter, and get back to us.
I tried to wash the laundry, but the image of the laundry room in the new house swam before my eyes.
I tried to make supper, but the image of that large kitchen with the picture window haunted me.
I gave up.
We waited in nervous anticipation, hoping for the best.
And then the call came: Our Rav said that halachically, the one who gave an offer first had first rights to the house. We had to ask him and only if he refused to buy it did we have the rights to it.
I cried when I heard. My husband was stoic.
“It’s difficult, but this is what we need to do.” He said resolutely.
He procured the number of the person who gave the first offer and dialed. It was the hardest phone call he ever had to make, and the longest few minutes in my life as I tried to make out the story from the one-sided conversation I was privy to.
When my husband pressed end, he took a deep breath.
“He wants to buy the house,” he said simply.
Two days later, we heard that they were in contract.
I would be lying if I said that we just accepted it lovingly, said that obviously this was bashert, and happily continued living in our two-by-two.
In reality, it was hard. Very hard. I trudged through my days, feeling the walls closing in on me more than ever.
“Hashem,” I silently cried, “All I asked for was a bigger house to serve you better, with more joy and harchavas hadaas. All I wanted was more space for the precious kinderlech you granted me. I can’t continue like this, we need that house, please!”
I worked on my Emunah, listened to shiurim, and tried to verbalize that this was the best thing for us. And after two weeks, it became easier to accept.
By a month later, I was able to say - and feel, that Hashem must have a better plan for us, and obviously, this wasn’t the right house for us.
My husband comforted me and relentlessly continued to plow through the listings.
I’m sure you’re expecting an ending with a big bow on top - that we found an even better house, for an even better price, and were zoche to see how Hashem really had something much better in store for us.
But reality isn’t only comprised of pictureperfect endings.
No, we continued to look for something else as we continued to live in our tiny apartment. It was more difficult than you can imagine, but I knew that this was the right thing to do.
Baruch Hashem, half a year ago we closed on a different house.
It’s much further out of the area, not really in the area we wanted to buy.
It’s smaller, older, and does not have a tenant apartment for added income.
The area is not so populated yet - we only have one heimish neighbor and one shul a few blocks away.
But this is the house Hashem decided is best for us, and we accept that ba’ahavah.
Maybe one day in the future we’ll realize why this house is better for us.
Then again, maybe not.
But our job is only to do what’s right, and trust that Hashem will make it all right. •
As told to Esty Steinmetz
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