Estee Rothman is a fine young woman who attends my 12th-grade class at Ateres Bais Yaakov in Monsey New York.
Many of the girls ask me if I’m the same Rabbi Eisenman who writes for Mishpacha. After attempting to remain humbly anonymous I admit to the young women that indeed I have the admirable distinction of being a Mishpacha columnist.
Besides the fact that I’m always amazed at how many people read the magazine I’m equally shocked at how the realization of my notability effects a change in their entire attitude toward me. They are abruptly transformed from somewhat disinterested adolescents into motivated and mature young women who have hopes of seeing their names appear in print.
They will ask me “Rabbi Eisenman can we be in Mishpacha this week? Can you write about our class and what we do?”
I always answer the same way “Of course I can. However first you have to do something worthy of being published!”
And at the end of every class they ask “Did we do something this week? Will we see our names in Mishpacha?”
Finally last week I was able to tell them “That story is worthy of being told to all!” And here it is.
It was the week before Purim and I devoted the last few minutes of class to inspirational incidents.
I told them the story of Leah Neiman. How when she was still a non-Jew she was walking in Bayonne New Jersey in July and was perplexed when she noticed a young man clad in a black jacket and fedora turn his head and avert his eyes from seeing the summer-clad Leilani (she was not yet Leah). This “small” aversion of the eyes of a bochur from the Bayonne yeshivah led Leilani to research this strange group of people and ultimately led to her conversion to Judaism.
The girls were spellbound by the story.
Many of them confessed that the laws of tzniyus (modesty) are certainly challenging; especially to the young people of our generation.
In this generation I told them there are so many temptations and pressures to compromise the cherished mitzvah of tzniyus that when a story is told that inspires others to observe this mitzvah it’s worthy of being told and retold.
Such is the story told by Estee Rothman.
As is the case with many of today’s young women Estee Rothman shops at numerous clothing stores that cater to both a Jewish and non-Jewish clientele. And as many other young frum women she’s always faced with the challenge of deciding if a particular skirt or sweater is not only fashionable but also if it meets the lofty levels of modesty our precious Torah requests of us.
On this day Estee had found the “right” skirt. It was fashionable and the exact color she wanted. The only issue was the length; it wasn’t exactly appropriate. Estee rationalized her purchase by convincing herself she could add a piece to the skirt to make it longer after she purchased it.
As she approached the checkout counter the non-Jewish saleswoman looked at her and in utter innocence asked “Are you sure this skirt is long enough for someone like you?”
The words seared Estee’s heart more than any mussar talk she’d ever heard.
Estee looked at the non-Jewish woman looked at the skirt and realized her decision was obvious.
She looked back at the saleswoman and said loudly and clearly “You’re right. his skirt isn’t for someone like me.”
Although she left without the skirt Estee never felt more fulfilled after shopping than she did that day. —