A small flicker, a smoldering ember. If left unchecked, it can become a raging inferno, consuming everything in its path. Unless someone stands tall and douses the flames. Four tales of courage

When a second girls’ school opened up in our community, the consensus on the street was that this was a positive development. After all, the community was growing, and competition was a good thing, no?

Rumor had it that the administration of the first school didn’t think so, but if they were upset at first, as time went on, the old school’s administration apparently came to a resigned acceptance. Bais Rina was here to stay.

We chose to send our daughter to Bais Rina. We’d heard glowing reports about the principal and the staff. The one drawback was the school’s lack of a building. Even several years after it had opened, the Bais Rina students were still learning in caravans and a rented shul hall. The old school, Moreshes Chana, was also dealing with a lack of space, housed in a dollhouse-sized building, with caravans taking up most of the yard.

That year we were having municipal elections, and, coincidentally, the new community center that had been promised for years suddenly began to materialize. As construction on the sprawling new building progressed, some communal institutions began to set their sights on the old community center.

Our principal, Rebbetzin Hindy Lewin*, was among the earliest to grasp the opportunity. She was also fortunate enough to have connections in the local government, and, with the siyata d’Shmaya of good timing and a well-presented case, Bais Rina was awarded the old community center. We parents were thrilled, and, as summer vacation began, our girls were already looking forward to being in their new premises the next year.

But over the summer, things changed. It started insidiously — whispers, complaints, claims, implied accusations. Over in City Hall, different connections were pulled. By the time Rebbetzin Lewin got wind of what was going on, it was too late. The municipality informed her that, for various legal and technical reasons, come September, the coveted building would be handed over to Moreshes Chana.

September was only a week away.