Benny took the crisply folded linen she’d indicated and found a spot for it inside the suitcase. Then he took a deep breath. “So we’re doing this, huh?”

Benny returned home from night seder that Thursday night to find a suitcase open on the dining room table.

“Need help packing?” he asked Tziporah.

“Thanks,” she said. “The kids’ Shabbos clothing is on the couch — can you put it here, then their pajamas on top, and we also need some diapers.”

Benny followed her instructions and stowed the clothing neatly inside the suitcase. “What time does the bus leave?”

“There are buses the whole day,” Tziporah said. “Malky Baum — you know, Rochel Leah Stern’s sister — said the apartment should be ready for us around three, and that we should bring along our own linen. So we have to pack that too.”

Benny took the crisply folded linen she’d indicated and found a spot for it inside the suitcase. Then he took a deep breath. “So we’re doing this, huh?”

Tziporah smiled wanly. “Look, we have to try. We’ll spend a Shabbos there — we’ll see if we can get a feel for the place. If we don’t like Givat Ze’ev Hachadashah, if it doesn’t feel like a good fit, we can try RBS next week. I’m sure Chani Mendlowitz can help us find a place to sleep, and she’d be happy to host us for the meals.”

Benny nodded. They had each other, they had the kids, they had a clear direction of what they wanted to be and how to get there. Somewhere there was an apartment waiting for them, a place where they could it make it all happen.

“Tziporah,” he said suddenly, “if we’re done here, how about we get a babysitter and take the train to the Kosel?”

She looked surprised.

“I mean, this is something we won’t be able to do if we leave Yerushalayim,” he said. “And I want to daven — for clarity, that the whole process should go smoothly.”