Can’t they see how hard they’re making it for themselves? I vented to whoever was willing to listen

When our first daughter was getting married, I was thrilled.

Like all mothers, I hoped her life would be perfect.

We wanted to buy the young couple an apartment and searched for something that would fit in our limited budget. We finally narrowed it down to two choices out of town. One apartment was on a beautiful woodsy street. The owner had built on an extension, creating a lot of living space, but with a rather haphazard plan. I identified with the apartment’s quirkiness.

The second apartment was more standard. The rooms were a nice size, and there was a large window in the living room overlooking a pleasant view. The catch was the neighborhood, which wasn’t completely religious. But things seemed to be moving along in the right direction, as one frum couple after the other moved in, and a knowledgeable acquaintance advised us that this apartment was a better option.

But things didn’t quite work out as we’d hoped. Local politics meant that the up-and-coming neighborhood took a sudden turn for the worse. Instead of new couples flowing into the area, the ones that were already there were leaving, searching for more accommodating pastures. Educational services for the young religious families were deteriorating.