“Harav Silver, forgive the intrusion, but couldn’t a conversation about a teddy bear wait until we’ve closed tonight’s issue?"

When insiders in the world of frum journalism want to describe a boring article, they joke that “even the censor can’t get through it.” But Gedalya hasn’t heard of those jokes. He sits in his little room at the newspaper office, going over every word. In the middle of the most monotonous article he’s ever read, his phone rings. It’s Shifra, or as his screen informs him, nevas beiso.

He presses the green button and says, “Is it urgent?”

“No phone calls now!” Shimshon the production manager is about to go out of his mind. “Harav Silver! Please! I’m begging you! The printers say they’re going to stop working with us!”

“Gedalya.” Shifra’s voice is tight, anxious, completely unlike her usual self. “I can’t deal with this.”

“One second,” he signals to the production manager. “What’s the matter, Shifra?”

“Tovi wouldn’t pick up the package that came in the mail for her,” Shifra says tensely. “She said if it’s from California, then it must be something for her surgery, and she’s not going to have the surgery because she won’t have people donating money for her.”

“We’ve been through all that already.” Gedalya sighs. “Send someone else to pick it up. Maybe Mordechai.”

“Yes, Mordechai went,” Shifra says in a whisper, moving out of Tovi’s earshot. In the corner of the living room she finds Tzviah’le listening with wide eyes. She steps out to the balcony. “As soon as he came home from cheder, I gave him a hot drink, and then he went straight out and brought the package home.”

“Harav Silver!” Shimshon is back, drumming his hand on the doorpost. “The whole staff is waiting for that article!”

“The girls opened it, without Tovi,” Shifra continued. “There were some papers and booklets in English inside, and a teddy bear.”

“A teddy bear?” Gedalya asks.

“A teddy bear!” Shimshon comes in; his body language is almost threatening. “Harav Silver, forgive the intrusion, but couldn’t a conversation about a teddy bear wait until we’ve closed tonight’s issue? We’re in panic mode, can’t you see? In ten minutes the printers will start charging me overtime.”

Now Shifra’s quiet, shuddering sobs are coming through Gedalya’s phone. Compassion swells up in his heart.

“Shifra, I’ll call you back as soon as I can,” he says.

Work responsibilities can be cruel, he thinks. You have to ignore your wife who’s crying on the phone in favor of some article about the wondrous healing powers of ginger, and what’s more, you have to make sure the article doesn’t include any phrases that might be deemed problematic.

For years the roots have been known… The seeds… Medicinal plants…

He turns off the screen. He can’t take any more. He peeks out, up and down the corridor. Shimshon is nowhere in sight; he’s probably pressuring somebody else to finish up already. Gedalya quickly shuts the door and calls Shifra.

“Why did they send a teddy bear?” he asked Shifra.

“To prepare her psychologically for the operation, I think,” Shifra said, her sobs softer now. “It’s very cute. Soft and furry. And it’s missing an ear.”