I kept imagining the moment I would tell my oldest daughter the great news. Over the years, she’d heard about Shalom from her older brothers, both close friends of his.

What a teeny, tiny world!

And now it looked like finally The Moment had arrived.

I take a good look at my not-so-little-anymore daughter. Not surprisingly, she gives me back the look. And at that moment, I understand. She knows.

“Ima, don’t start with your shidduch ideas. Re’ut isn’t available.”

“Oh?” I ask innocently. “Something serious?”

“Let’s just say that’s why she asked to sleep over.”

“Oh? Someone from our community? Someone I know?”

“I didn’t say that. You didn’t hear it from me….”

I decide that it’s enough with the silly games. “Ayelet, dear, I know already. Her mother called me ages ago as a reference.”

“I know.”

“Oh.” There goes my cover.

Over the next couple of weeks, the same story plays out. Shalom had been called up to reserve duty from his hesder yeshivah on Simchat Torah, and whenever he is home on leave, Re’ut comes over, schmoozes with us, goes out with Shalom, comes back on cloud nine, and schmoozes with us some more.

We are all so excited. Well, Ayelet and I are, that is. We obviously can’t tell anyone else. (Turns out, my bechor also knows. Still in shanah rishonah himself, he’s been giving Shalom lots of advice seeing that he’s a maven now in all things dating and marriage.)

The last time, Re’ut comes home teary-eyed. Shalom was supposed to be on leave from the army for three full days. Those three days were suddenly shortened to a day and a half, and who knew when he’d be off again?

He’s stationed on the northern front. When he’s on base, they rarely get a chance to talk, and when they do, the conversation goes something like, “Hi, how are you, have a good Shabbos.” No time for DMCs.  And when he’s “in the shetach,” meaning on duty at the border, they don’t get to speak at all.

Ever tried doing a shidduch during a war? It’s kind of different. Is he kovei’a itim? In between raids and guard duty he is. How tall is he? Do you mean with the army boots or without? Was he wearing a nice tie? Uh, he did manage to wash up, but you know, khaki really goes with his complexion. Did he call to wish her a happy birthday? He’s at the front, scouring for terrorists, try next week. Do they text?  Actually, we’ve been communicating by letters, the old kind, pen and paper, remember those? Where to go for a date? Anywhere they’ll allow you in with a gun (many hotel lobbies don’t).

Fast-forward another month. I get a text from Ayelet: Re’ut’s coming to sleep over yet again. We’re all happy to see her. She smiles constantly in that gentle way of hers. The dating coach in me finds a few minutes with her alone to discreetly touch base. Again, she smiles softly. Seems like they’ve pretty much decided. She’s meeting his parents tonight, then he’ll meet hers, and…

A l’chayim on Motzaei Shabbos!

Thank You, Hashem!

But then….

On Friday morning, Shalom is called up again unexpectedly and has to report immediately back to his base up north. Re’ut’s mother has already cooked for the event. I think back to just a few hours ago. Re’ut had left our house to meet Shalom wearing a beautiful white blouse, small gold earrings, and the Beis Hamikdash necklace she always wears, smiling from ear to ear.

Od yishama b’arei Yehudah u’vechutzos Yerushalayim.

Od yishama, it will surely be heard! But when?

Reut calls my daughter in tears. Shalom is packing up his things and has to run to catch the bus. No ring. No l’chayim. No guests. No dancing. Unless… can you get engaged without your chassan being physically present? Okay, no. Just no. That’s not normal.

We’re a strong nation.

What does normal even mean?

Is it normal to still exist and thrive after being persecuted for so many generations?

Is it normal to still exist and thrive after being attacked so many times?

Is it normal to have defeated so many superpowers?

Is it normal to be surrounded by enemies, to cry out Tatte and to see miracles happen right. In front. Of your eyes?

Ayelet and I send Re’ut a bouquet of flowers for Shabbos. On the card we write, “To our dear friend Re’ut, giborat Yisrael, Hashem should watch over all of Klal Yisrael. We love you.”

Her mother calls to thank us.

We have patience. We’ll wait. And wait. And wait. But Hashem please, have rachmanus. Meheirah, Hashem Elokeinu! May it happen soon! And then we’ll dance, we’ll sing, the whole nation, in the building of a new home, in the rebuilding of Hashem’s home.

Asher bara sason v’simchah, chassan v’kallah… ahavah v’achvah… v’Shalom v’Re’ut.

All names have been changed to protect privacy, except the names of the chassan and kallah — Shalom and Re’ut are their real names.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 912)