After three days of rigorous dawn-to-dusk shoots, the strain was beginning to show. Though Shabbos in camp had given the girls a temporary energy boost, Rina had gone home together with Atara to spend Shabbos with her family and give Heshy her emotional support. She had come back Sunday morning even more depleted than when she’d left.

How long could she hold out being the universal cheerleader, rah-rahing everyone into believing that they were awesome, they were doing fantastic, that everything would come out super? And wouldn’t it be nice to just once have someone cheerleading her?

By Monday, even Rina’s positive energy was sagging.

“Come on,” she snapped, as Dini’s overly dramatic gesticulation (“I have it! The perfect plan to help Tzippy!” with an accompanying flying pirouette) landed her outside the camera range, and Connor muttered impatiently and motioned to the cameraman to stop rolling.

“Dini!” Rina strode over in exasperation. “We’ve gone through this! Here is where the camera’s range ends. This is where you move.” She rolled her eyes. “And we’re not ballerinas.”

Dini didn’t take well to criticism. “After 20 million hours of nonstop filming, I forget one tiny thing. So shoot me.” She glared, putting her hands on her hips. “This is slave labor, you know.”

Rina sighed, quickly shoving back her frustration. She couldn’t afford a mutiny. “You’re doing great,” she said, mustering half-hearted enthusiasm. “I know you guys have been working crazy hours. You’re awesome, all of you. This is the last scene. Let’s just push ourselves a tiny bit more, and then we’ll all celebrate with a big post-filming bash. Okay?” She smiled at Dini until the girl grudgingly smiled back.

“Great! Now, let’s do this shot from the top. Take five!”

“Six,” muttered Connor, as Rina made her way back to where he was sitting, Gabriella peering into the camera’s screen next to him.

As Rina passed by, she looked up. Gabriella looked just as exhausted as the girls. But she turned to her. “Good job,” she said.

Rina raised a wary eyebrow. Was Gabriella actually approving of something she’d done, or was she being sarcastic? Rina never knew how to react around Gabriella.

“I mean it.” Gabriella’s tired eyes crinkled. “It’s tough to keep your cool when girls mess up and then act bratty on top of it. And you not only kept calm, but you even managed to make her feel good about herself. That’s a real talent.”

Rina felt herself melting inside. It had been so long since she’d gotten such an authentic compliment.

“Thanks,” she said warmly, alarmed to actually feel tears pricking her eyes. It felt good to be appreciated — and by Gabriella, no less.

Gabriella shrugged. “You deserve it. You’ve been tremendous the past few days, you know, pushing yourself and everyone around you to really do their best.”

Oh, my goodness, now she was really about to cry. “Hey,” she said, swallowing hard. “That — that really means a lot to me.” She blinked sharply. No, she would not humiliate herself. “Really.”

Could Gabriella tell just how badly she’d needed to hear this? Rina didn’t know, but from the penetrating look the other woman threw her, she suspected so.

(Excerpted from Family First, Issue 615)