Shuki whipped a paper out of his pocket and unfolded it to reveal a large cartoon hand with big eyes and a goofy grin

“I’ve got it!”

Dini and the kids looked up from the dinner table as Shuki burst through the door.

“Got what?” Binny asked.

But it was Dini that Shuki was grinning at. “The campaign concept. I was working on it today, and I think I’ve got a winner.” He threw his coat onto the couch (Dini tried hard not to wince; the coat hooks, Shuki, they’re not just there for decoration), strode over to the dining room table, and sat down.

“Chesed Tzirel: Your helping hand in Israel. No, listen,” he insisted as Dini opened her mouth to respond. “It sounds cliché, but it’s not.”

Dini’s mouth curled. “How’d you know what I was going to say?”

“I’m a mind reader.”

“Really, Tatty?” Five-year-old Yaeli’s eyes widened.

Shuki reached out to tousle her hair. “Yeah, really. For instance, I can tell you what Chaviva’s thinking right now.” Chaviva looked up suspiciously; Shuki winked at her. “She’s thinking, ‘Will someone please tell Tatty that he is so not funny?’”

As they all laughed, Shuki turned back to Dini. “So here’s the message we want to push. We’re an organization helping Americans just like you who are living in Eretz Yisrael. It could be your own young kollel couple who needs our help one day. And if and when they find themselves dealing with a medical crisis all alone in a foreign culture, you don’t have to worry. Because they have…”

He whipped a paper out of his pocket and unfolded it to reveal a large cartoon hand with big eyes and a goofy grin. “Handy the helping hand!” he sang.

Dini’s mouth opened and closed several times before she could find her words. And then it was only, “Ummm….”