Great Expectations
| December 25, 2018They were living in Israel, but their spending habits were still American. It was a financial disaster waiting to happen
Tirtza Siegel* — 35, homemaker and mother of six
Sari Mandel* — Financial coach, Mesila, an organization promoting financial stability and independence
Tirtza relates:
I
want to start off by stating that I feel extremely blessed to have the zechus of living in Eretz Yisrael. I’ve decided to share my story not because I want to chas v’shalom imply that life is hard here, or that people in America have it better; in fact, I feel that the overall quality of life in Israel, taking all factors into consideration, is actually much higher. The reason I’m sharing my story is that, after going through it myself, I’ve realized the mistakes we made could befall anyone, anywhere, who doesn’t adjust his lifestyle to his financial means.
Aryeh and I were your typical newlywed American kollel couple, starting off our married lives in Eretz Yisrael on my parents’ dime. Both of us come from upper-middle class families — not well off enough to qualify as rich, but quite comfortable. As a young kallah, I quickly became part of the Sorotzkin crowd, going out for lattes at Nina’s and swapping dinner recipes. Even in those pre-Instagram days, I still took pride in creating elegant dinners for my new husband, and I felt like I was doing my duty as a genuine balabusta.
The years passed, and slowly most of the old Sorotzkin crowd moved back to America, but we were still here. Aryeh was still shteiging in kollel, and had also taken on some side tutoring jobs. Our kids were happy in their cheders and gans. We made the decision that, even though our parental support had stopped, we would remain, and give it a go at building our lives here.
One thing Aryeh was adamant about was that my primary focus should be our home. At that point we had three little children, and, as he often repeated, “They need a mother and I need a wife. I’ll worry about the finances.” So I continued working at my morning secretarial job, which, though it only contributed minimally to our income, allowed me to be home by one for my children. I was so proud to have a husband who cared about me and valued what I did for our family. And if it reflected the fact that he was living in a bit of a fantasy world about money matters, well, so was I. After all, we’d always had enough money, we’d always been able to spend without counting our shekels, and — the real clincher — we had a significant amount of savings in the bank. Our wedding money was still untouched, and over the years a lot had been added to it, thanks to gifts from our grandparents and especially to one particular windfall — a yerushah from Aryeh’s great-uncle, who had died childless.
So we both felt pretty financially secure as we made plans to settle in more firmly to family life in Eretz Yisrael. We decided to move to a less transient community with more of a family feel, and chose Ramat Beit Shemesh. The realtor showing us apartments asked us what our rental budget was, but we had none. However, while we had no clear picture of our finances, we had quite a clear picture of how our home should look. Between the two of us, we kept nixing many of the more modest options that she showed us, appropriate for a young family of five, and insisted we need bigger and better. We finally found it: a large five-bedroom with an expansive garden and upgraded kitchen. The rent was astronomical, and even the realtor, with the prospect of closing the deal, was dubious.
“Why do you need such a big place?” she asked. “Are you sure you can afford it?”
But I knew I wanted space for my family to grow, until the time came to buy a place of our own, and yes, of course we could afford it! So we signed, moved in, and began getting to know our new community.
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