Chava leaned against the wall of the auditorium and smiled as she watched ZeeZee Keller in the final performance of the talent show. The girl had announced she was going to play guitar, but it was essentially a comedy routine, and she had the audience rolling.

Shira Litwin was standing near her. “That girl has such charisma,” she murmured to Chava.

Chava nodded as ZeeZee took a sweeping bow and walked back to her seat.

“Charisma and chein,” she replied. “And lots of energy. It’s a powerful mix. I only hope she’ll use her gifts for the good of Klal Yisrael.” That was her job this year, to inspire that.

The younger teacher grinned. “What do you bet she becomes a seminary teacher herself one day? She’d make a great one, wouldn’t she?”

Chava’s brow furrowed. Would she? Sure, if charisma was the main quality that made a good seminary teacher. ZeeZee Keller would be popular and charismatic and have the girls surrounding her as she walked down the halls, and cheering wildly for her when she was thanked for her help in arranging the chagigah — just like the girls cheered for Tammy tonight.

But ZeeZee was also uninterested in learning and could barely be bothered to read a Rashi. Call her old-fashioned, but Chava still believed that a seminary teacher’s primary job was to teach the girls Torah. Not just inspire them to love Torah, but to actually teach them what was in it.

Making a noncommittal reply, Chava returned her focus to the girls. The girls in the choir were now arranging themselves at the front of the room. Shani Mandel was one of the group; Chava was happy to see her involved.

They’d been working on getting her started with therapy. Unfortunately, Shani’s mother was proving quite difficult. Chava had called her with the names of a few highly recommended therapists and asked for her permission for Shani to start with one of them. But the mother insisted on doing her own research before agreeing to anything. Shani was still 17, legally a minor; there wasn’t a whole lot they could do if the mother chose to stall the process in the name of micromanaging.

Shani was standing on the edge of the group, slightly apart from the others, and Chava saw Tehilla, the choir head, motion for Shani to move in. But Shani didn’t seem to hear. She was staring into space, and from where Chava stood, near the front of the room, she could see that Shani had an odd look on her face.

Feeling a vague sense of disquiet, Chava took a step forward toward her. And then she gasped.

Shani had fallen to the floor.

“She fainted!” Tehilla screamed, and pandemonium broke loose.

Chava was the first staff member to reach her. She felt her wrist, which was cold and clammy but definitely had a pulse. She carefully laid her on her back and turned to Shira Litwin, who was beside her. “Call Hatzalah.” Shira nodded and quickly pulled out her phone.

Tammy Hurwitz came racing up, ZeeZee close on her heels. Tammy kneeled down next to Shani and took her hand, while ZeeZee stood there, looking down at her in shock.

Chava turned to ZeeZee. “You’re her roommate. Do you know if she was feeling well?”

ZeeZee shook her head. Her face was white. “No, she wasn’t. She was lying down, she said she wasn’t feeling well, and I…” Her voice shook. “I forced her to come. I thought she was just, you know, making excuses.”

She looked appealingly at Chava, who put a hand on ZeeZee’s shoulder.

“That was a very reasonable assumption,” she said kindly. She paused. “Do you know when was the last time that she ate anything?”

ZeeZee laughed bitterly. “Yup. I convinced her to eat when she said she wasn’t feeling well. She ate a teeny tiny bite of an apple. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s all she’d eaten the whole day.”

“Me neither,” Chava said grimly. She looked at Shani, whose eyes were blinking. Baruch Hashem, she was starting to come around. Maybe this would be the wake-up call she and her mother needed.

There was some sort of bustle by the front door; Chava hoped it was the Hatzalah paramedics arriving.

“Who’s going to go with her to the hospital?” she asked, turning to Tammy. “A madrichah?”

“No, I’ll go myself,” Tammy said.

“Where is she?”

Chava and Tammy both swiveled around at the sound of an unfamiliar voice shrieking next to them.

A middle-aged woman in a black sheitel came running up. At the sight of Shani lying on the floor, the woman gave a loud moan and slid down next to her. Shani’s eyes popped open and widened in shock.

“I’m Shani’s mother,” she said, pulling Shani’s hand out of Tammy’s grasp to hold it herself. “And I see I got here just in time.”

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 749)