Chumi, her oldest daughter, burst into laughter. “Mommy in a sequined tichel? This I’ve gotta see!”

Chava often said there was no greater nachas than having her whole family gathered together over Chol Hamoed. That’s why they built their Succah in their building’s parking lot, despite having to carry the food up and down three flights of stairs. Their tiny porch would never be able to accommodate her large and growing family.

But right now, looking around at her children relaxing around the Succah table — the six married couples; Baruch and Reuven, her yeshivah bochurim; Elisheva; and a few of the grandchildren who hadn’t gone out to play with the rest — she was surprised to feel a certain weariness as well.

At the far end of the table, Hillel, her bechor, was telling over a chaburah he’d recently given to his kollel, while down at her end, Devoiry was discussing her new business with her sisters. Chava was curious to hear what she had to say, but somehow, her eyes kept fluttering closed.

It had been a long day; she’d gotten up early to start preparing the food. And after everyone left, she’d be faced with the dirty pots and serving dishes, the mess, the crumbs, the toys strewn all over her apartment. Her daughters and daughters-in-law, she knew, would offer to clean up, but would also gratefully submit to her insistence that she’ll take care of it; they had enough to do getting their families home, with the buses bursting with the Chol Hamoed crowds

And so, they’d go home, and she’d be left, just her and Elisheva, to deal with the mess. She passed a hand over her eyes.

“These past few weeks have been absolutely exhausting,” Devoiry was saying, although she was leaning forward as she spoke, alert and animated. “Orders have been literally pouring in. My sequined tichels are particularly popular — I can’t fill the demand fast enough! I’m literally up till 2 a.m. every night making them.”

Devoiry was wearing one of them herself, and as everyone oohed and aahed over it, she said, “If any of you want one of your own, I’ll put you down for an order. Sister discount,” she added with a wink. Then, beaming at Chava, she said, “I already gave one to Mommy.”

Chava tried to look excited as she smiled back. Erev Yom Tov, Devoiry had come by to pick up some kugels, and she’d presented Chava with a handmade scarf as a gift. Touched by the gesture, Chava had exclaimed over its exquisite artistry, but she’d sincerely hoped Devoiry didn’t expect her to actually wear it.

Now, Chumi, her oldest daughter, burst into laughter. “Mommy in a sequined tichel? This I’ve gotta see!”