“I actually started therapy about two years ago,” Nechama confided. “Because I couldn’t handle dating. I was used to acing everything — the Regents and the SATs, I’m in med school on a full scholarship. But dating just wasn’t working. I couldn’t trust a guy.”

I was impressed. Nechama had many strengths. She was resilient, resourceful, and persistent. She also had an uncommon depth; she told me that she believed that if Hashem had put her in this challenging situation, it was in order to help her grow.

She’d worked on developing patience, kindness, and caring — all traits she didn’t have strong models for. Nechama was going to be a great wife and mother. But now I understood a little better where her sense of despair was coming from.

Still, I had high hopes for her, and I even thought I knew the perfect guy.

Avi had come to see me after I’d made his friend’s shidduch. He was tall and good-looking, with a quiet but self-assured demeanor. He told me that his mother was legally blind and his father had cerebral palsy.

He was their only child, their miracle child. He was the light of their life and they loved him fiercely, but there were many things they weren’t able to do for him, and Avi grew up with more responsibility than most of his peers. He fended for himself, took nothing for granted, and appreciated every bit of help and support that came his way.

Even as a kid, he displayed an uncommon strength of character. While some might have grown bitter and resentful, Avi had a great relationship with his parents. He understood their limitations and had a tremendous respect for who they were and what they had overcome. When I met him, I was amazed at who he was and what he had overcome, and I told him that.

“But,” he said, echoing Nechama, “who is ever going to want to marry me?”

Who would marry him? Someone who recognized his incredible personal qualities, that’s who. Avi could offer Nechama a softer, kinder, and more loving perspective on life. And I knew Nechama would be able to trust Avi and appreciate what a positive, strong, and healthy person he was.

I was right. As their relationship developed, Nechama blossomed.

“I was never this happy,” she told me, wonder in her voice. And Avi was elated to find someone who understood him. “She speaks my language,” he said.

To the outsider, this was a special shidduch, the son of two handicapped parents getting married. In truth, it was the meeting of two survivors — two strong, sensitive, and self-made individuals being given a chance for a new beginning.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 707)