Hashem orchestrates elaborate experiences to bring couples together. Eight writers share the Divine imprint upon their match

Deal of a Lifetime

Esther Shaindy Leshkowitz

They’d been deported to Siberia during World War II, father and mother, four daughters and a son. There, they spent cold, bitter years, not knowing if, or when, they’d be freed. They suffered greatly on those barren plains, but they were free now, and they needed a place to live.

The family traveled to Seragina, to Tchapanova, and tried to set down roots, but they couldn’t: sometimes the NKVD made trouble, other times, all the Jews had left, and they didn’t want to remain alone.

So they searched, until they heard of Blodvodskoe, a village near Frunze, capital of Kyrgyzstan. There was a group traveling there, a fellow Jew said, and he told of an abundance of butter and cheese and fresh fruit. There was also a market, an opportunity to make parnassah.

I try to imagine them as they went to that country of valleys and lakes, blue mountains visible in the distance, where the locals eyed their beards and peyos with curiosity. They wondered if they were the only Jews in town. Later, when they purchased food and supplies at the market, they met Jews they had known from before, Jews from Galicia and Poland, and they realized with relief they weren’t alone.

In Blodvodskoe, mostly young adults conducted business at the market, selling all sorts of merchandise. They’d travel to Frunze, where they’d purchase whatever goods they could find — clothing, shoes, soap, leather goods. Then, they’d return to Blodvodskoe and try to sell their goods.

One day the eldest daughter was at the market, when a woman approached her.

“I have a pair of diamond earrings to sell,” the woman said.

The girl had an eye for a deal and realized she’d be foolish to allow this opportunity to slip away, but she had no experience with diamonds, and she didn’t know a fair price, let alone where to begin bargaining.

Coming toward her was a young man she recognized, one of the young Jewish men who had been in Blodvodskoe before her family had arrived. As he approached, she showed him the earrings, and asked if he had any knowledge of diamonds.

He said he did, and offered to help her bargain for a fair price, on condition that he be an equal partner in the deal. She agreed, and they purchased the diamonds.

The only problem was that there was no buyer for the earrings, and after some time, they decided to dissolve their partnership. In order to divide the earrings fairly, they consulted with the girl’s father, who served as an informal rav for the Jews of Blodvodskoe. He examined the earrings and realized they were of unequal quality, one was a beautiful, brilliant stone; the other, cloudy and inferior. Splitting the pair between them wouldn’t be fair.

He looked at his daughter, and he looked at the tall, fine young man. He knew he’d learned in a good yeshivah, and had often thought this man would make a good husband for one of his daughters. He also thought of the medrash, the story of a man who had bought a field and found a buried treasure. “It’s not mine,” said the buyer. “I only purchased a field.”

“It’s not mine either,” said the seller. “I had no knowledge of any treasure.” They sought the king’s counsel, who suggested the son of one marry the daughter of the other, and take the treasure as dowry.

He looked at the two young people before him, his eldest daughter, and this fine young man. “Why don’t you marry,” he said, “and the earrings will belong to you both.”

They didn’t need much time to think, and married soon after, on May 25, 1945. The brilliant diamond was set in an engagement ring, forever a reminder of what brought them together.