Maybe gift-giving evens out the score. But why are we even keeping track?

MY sister called me last week to help her friend find a babysitter.

She was flying in with her baby for a close friend’s chasunah, and her childcare arrangements had fallen through at the last minute. Did I know anyone who could babysit?

With two teenage daughters, you’d think it would be a breeze, but it was finals season, and neither was able to free the evening. I offered to have the baby in my house anyway. I have kids of all ages, and I figured that between us this would be a manageable chesed.

The night was smooth sailing. My six-year-old fell in love with the baby and pushed the Doona around all evening. The baby fell asleep soon after she came, and we didn’t hear from her again all night.

When her mother came to pick her up and tried to pay the babysitter, I wouldn’t hear of it. Who was she going to pay? My teenagers, who were upstairs laughing uproariously, ostensibly studying? My six-year-old, who was thrilled with her real live doll? Or was she going to pay me rent for allowing her Doona to take up space in my dining room?

She thanked me for being a lifesaver and I smiled, glad that I was able to help someone out so easily.

And that was the end of the story.

Or so I thought.