I felt my shoulders lift when she spoke. I had the Rebbetzin’s brachah — and assurance — that I’d go far

“This way,” said the woman who opened the door of the Bnei Brak apartment. “The Rebbetzin will see you in a minute.”

I stood at the doorway, nervously biting my lip as I waited to be let into Rebbetzin Kolodetsky’s room. At the time, I was 24 years old — and very lost. I had just quit cosmetology school. Although I had a plan and was carrying it through, I was still afraid. Did it make sense for me to open a business? Was I wise to follow my dreams — or naive to think them possible?

“Let’s go ask the Rebbetzin,” my mother had suggested.

When I went to Eretz Yisrael that winter, she arranged for me to visit. So there I was, about to meet Rav Chaim Kanievsky’s daughter. When I walked into the room, she looked up and gave me a warm, bright smile.

“What brings you here?” she asked in Hebrew.

“I came to ask the Rebbetzin for a brachah, for hatzlachah” I shared. “I’m opening a clothing company.”

The Rebbetzin looked to her assistant as she translated my answer, then the Rebbetzin nodded and turned back to me.

“You must make tzniyus clothes, right?” When she saw my nod, the Rebbetzin continued. “If this is what you want to do and you believe in it, it will be with mazel.”

I felt my shoulders lift when she spoke. I had the Rebbetzin’s brachah — and assurance — that I’d go far.