I walked through the living room in the direction Mrs. Kremsler pointed. I stepped out onto the patio and froze

"Mommy, guess what! Chavi is coming to visit her cousins on Chol Hamoed. We’re gonna get a chance to meet in person!”

“I’m so happy to hear that,” Mommy said.

Chavi and I have been phone pals for the last year. To make phone learning during Covid a little more interesting, our schools matched us up with girls in other schools. They tried to give us phone pals with similar interests. Chavi and I both love art; drawing, sketching, painting — all different styles. We really wanted to get together in person so we could actually see each other’s artwork. Chavi’s cousins, the Kremslers, live down the block from me, so it will be really easy to meet when she’s there.

The next day, I went shopping with Mommy for Yom Tov. I held up an outfit with a tiered skirt and sash that tied at the waist.

Mommy raised her eyebrows at me. She’d already bought me two new outfits for Yom Tov and we’d agreed that that was enough.

“What if Chavi thinks I’m a loser? I really need this. I saw tons of girls getting it,” I pleaded with Mommy.

“Of course, Malky, that outfit is exactly what you need for Chavi to like you. I wonder how you ever made any friends before it came into style.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help smiling. Probably Mommy was right. Chavi didn’t sound like the kind of person that would judge me by my clothing.

Just to be sure, when our meeting day arrived, I did wear one of the new outfits Mommy had agreed to buy me. It was Chol Hamoed after all.

The plan was that I would meet Chavi at her cousins’s house. We’d agreed that we’d each bring all of our artwork with us, so we could finally see all the projects we’d discussed on the phone together.

We both love nature, so I figured if we had time, we could go on a hike together along the creek behind my house.

I looked in the mirror 10 or 15 times, making sure I looked okay. My wavy black hair was neatly pulled back in my ponytail, and I tied a pretty ribbon, which perfectly matched my outfit, around my pony. I tucked my portfolio under my arm and headed to the Kremslers where Chavi was waiting.

“Hi, Malky,” Chavi’s aunt, Mrs. Kremsler, greeted me. “Chavi’s on the patio out back waiting for you.”

I walked through the living room in the direction Mrs. Kremsler pointed. I stepped out onto the patio and froze.