Ephraim’s weekly presence at my Shabbos table did much more for me than it did for him

IT was Erev Shabbos Parshas Zachor in 2023 when Esther Jeffe, wife of Ephraim, my next-door neighbor for 33 years, passed away.

Ephraim is not just my next-door neighbor. Our homes, built 110 years ago, are almost physically attached — we can practically shake hands from our windows. Our children grew up together, and we are still very close.

When Esther passed, I invited Ephraim to be part of our Shabbos table. Soon, it became a kevius, and every Friday night, Ephraim would join us for the seudah.

In the summertime, when our seudah began later in the evening, it was usually just my wife, myself, and Ephraim at the meal. It was on a Friday night this past summer when Ephraim informed us he had met Susan Buckler from Great Neck. We were excited to meet her, and one Shabbos, Susan joined us for the seudah.

We were thrilled for Ephraim, as he and Susan were clearly a compatible shidduch.

I was touched when they announced their intent to get married in Yerushalayim and asked me to be mesader kiddushin. As it happened, another family had already asked me to officiate at their wedding on the same night. I faced the pleasant predicament of being asked to officiate at two weddings at once, albeit 6,000 miles apart.

As the saying goes, “M’ken nisht tantzen bei tzvei chasunahs.”

But with the gracious encouragement of the family making their wedding on this side of the Atlantic, and with the added lure of our three married children in Eretz Yisrael, we booked our tickets eastbound.

Ephraim and Susan’s wedding was scheduled for Thursday, the 4th of Kislev, at a quaint, charming restaurant in Yerushalayim. As I arrived at the venue, the serendipitous location ratcheted up my excitement a notch.

The street on which the wedding would take place was Rechov Yoel Moshe Salomon — named after my great-grandfather, who lived just a few meters from where I stood.

It would also be the first time I would be mesader kiddushin for a son and a father, in that order. Just a few years before, I officiated at the chasunah of Ephraim’s son, Emanuel.

The wedding was ethereal, and many tears were shed as Ephraim recited “Harei at mekudeshes li” and placed the ring on Susan’s finger. As I looked at the new couple, I thought of many things.

The simchah I felt was not for my next-door neighbor getting married; it was for being present at my brother’s wedding. But then I had an epiphany: Ephraim would now be making his new home with Susan, and the year and a half of having him at our Friday night seudos would end.

A feeling of loss combined with my unbridled simchah. I suddenly realized that when Ephraim joined us on Shabbos, I was not performing an act of chesed; quite the opposite. I was gaining a brother.

Ephraim’s weekly presence at my Shabbos table did much more for me than it did for him. He had become a fixture at my seudah, a yearned-for and necessary component of my Shabbos. As happy as I was for him and Susan, I now saw that we would have an empty place at our table.

As is often the case when we do something for others, we find that we do much more for ourselves. I recalled the week after shivah, when I felt good about myself for inviting Ephraim for Shabbos.

I realized now that I was not bringing a guest to my home; rather, Ephraim was bringing his love and friendship to me. And for that, I will be forever grateful.

Mazel tov!

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1943)