Chava sat in the front of the auditorium, reviewing her notes. Rabbi Freund was finishing his introductory remarks opening the teshuvah kenness, and then it would be her turn to speak. Even though she’d spoken at every pre-Rosh Hashanah kenness for the past ten years, she’d still felt relieved when Rabbi Freund mentioned to her last week that he was looking forward to hearing her teshuvah shiur this year.

The fact that he’d informed her via a casual comment rather than a formal ask had made her feel even better. She’d taken it as a message that her speaking at the annual teshuvah kenness was a given. Although, as she’d learned from the Kosel incident at the beginning of the year, even longtime roles could be taken away.

Even longtime jobs can be taken away.

Chava pressed her lips tightly, annoyed at herself for thinking such thoughts. Not now, when she needed to be focused, when she needed to inspire 62 girls as they approached what she liked to call the first real Yamim Noraim of their lives.

Rabbi Freund was stepping away from the lectern. She stood up, aware of the rustle in the room as the girls rose respectfully from their seats, and reviewed in her mind the powerful opening line she’d carefully crafted. Her lips were already forming the words (“Who is the King in your life?”) when she passed Rabbi Freund and heard him mutter to her, “Where is everyone?”

Startled, she looked at the auditorium. There weren’t 62 girls here; more like 40-something. Considering this evening was mandatory, that was a pretty poor showing.

Even more disconcerting was that as the girls sat back down and Chava adjusted the mic, smiled at the audience, and sent up a small tefillah that she be zocheh to inspire them to teshuvah, she saw a small group of girls quickly escape the room.

Yehuda was leaning back in his chair, looking more relaxed than Tammy had seen in a long time. “…and I didn’t want to pry, you know, but I could tell he needed to talk, so I came up with this kuntz to have Schneider mention to Katz that we’d gone through it, six years with no kids, as if he didn’t know that Katz was going through it now. You know, let him approach me on his own terms.”

“Smart. That’s very sensitive.” Tammy was forming pesto-chicken-pastrami roll-ups as they spoke. They were having girls over for Shabbos lunch. “So did he come over?”

“Yeah, right after second seder. Walked out with me as I was heading home, and started asking about my family.” Yehuda shrugged. “It just went from there. It’s good to be able to give chizuk, after everything we went through.”

Tammy nodded. “Absolutely.” She was proud of her husband. Yehuda wasn’t the type to share his feelings openly; it had been a big struggle for him, during all those years, to express his own fears and anxieties. At first, it had been, “Don’t worry, Hashem can make anything happen, it comes in the right time.” He’d grown a lot since then, and so had she.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Probably Suri coming to borrow eggs,” she said as she washed her hands and pulled off her apron.

To her surprise, there were about ten Shvilei girls standing in the doorway.

“Hey, Mrs. Hurwitz!” ZeeZee flashed her a brilliant smile, her red hair flaming in the glow of the hallway’s dangling lightbulb. “Can we come in?”

Tammy blinked. “Uh, what are you guys doing here? Don’t you have a teshuvah kenness right now?”

The girls were already filing into her small living room — ZeeZee, Shani, Rusi, and a few others.

“It was kinda boring,” ZeeZee said, as she plopped down on the couch. “Or, at least, so says Rusi. I skipped altogether. Speeches are not my thing.”

“Mmm.” Flustered, Tammy closed the front door, and then opened it again a crack. They shouldn’t be here. “So, why did you come?”

Shani looked at her anxiously. “It’s Cookie Thursday, isn’t it? We thought you’d be fine having us hang out here.”

“Yeah, we’d much prefer schmoozing with you than hearing Mrs…”

“Okay, got it,” Tammy cut her off hurriedly. She was at a loss for how she should be reacting. A part of her knew she should be the responsible staff member, sending them back.

“Girls, you’re really missing out on something special. A shiur by Mrs. Edelman can literally make your Rosh Hashanah.”

Not that she’d ever heard Mrs. Edelman give a shiur, but it sounded like the right thing to say.

ZeeZee smiled disarmingly. “So let’s talk about teshuvah. Tell us about some growth experiences in your life.”

“Yeah!” A few girls settled down on the floor, looking up at her expectantly.

Tammy threw a helpless glance at her husband. What was she supposed to do? Especially when… they wanted her! She was the staff member they wanted to hang out with! Face it, these girls weren’t going back to that teshuvah shiur either way; it was either a DMC in her living room or heading to Cofix for ice coffees.

She rocked back and forth, wavering. She should make them leave. How could she do this to Yehuda — just when they were finally enjoying their quiet evening together? But the same part of her that was crowing, “They came to me!” was also clamoring for them to stay.

She heard the scrape of a chair. “Time for me to head out to night seder,” Yehuda said heavily. As he passed her, he muttered, “Enjoy your night with the girls.”

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 725)