Chevi had beautiful middos and was intuitive and caring. In addition to her day job as an occupational therapist, she worked hard doing gritty, unglamorous volunteer work with seniors. But despite her qualities, she was still single.

One day she texted me: Do you know this guy Yossi Gewirtz?

I knew Yossi Gewirtz. Whoa, this was a great idea. Where was this coming from?

Yes, I typed back. Great guy.

Never mind, she replied the next day. Not relevant anymore.

Why not?

We’re in London for a wedding, the Gewirtzes are also here, someone thought their son would be good for me, but they’re not interested.

Not so fast, I thought. I knew the Gewirtzes. This was a great idea.

There was one problem, though: Yossi had a “thing.” He was six foot two, and he wanted a tall girl. Although the height issue makes him sound superficial, I knew there was a lot of depth and beauty in his personality. He was a positive person with a giving heart, and he had a lot to offer a wife. But a tall girl — that was his thing.

Oh, and there was another thing. He refused to go out with a girl from a wealthy family. He’d been raised in a small town where his mother was a playgroup morah and his father a rebbi and they ate on paper plates. They were a happy, rambunctious family with a simple lifestyle. He wanted someone who would appreciate that.

Chevi was very short.

And her family was very wealthy.

I called Yossi’s parents. They had met Chevi at the wedding and had seen her over Shabbos sheva brachos, and they were interested. The problem was that Yossi refused to consider her.

I got him on the phone, and he wouldn’t change his mind. But I wouldn’t budge either. Finally, just to get rid of me, he said, “How about you call me when we’re both back in the US and we’ll see then?”

“No way,” I told him. “I know, and you know, that once you’re back in the US, there’s no way in a million years that I’m going to convince you to fly in to go out with this girl. You’re there, she’s there, you don’t even need to rent a car, just go for a walk together. I’m telling you, this girl is a great idea for you.”

“But she’s short,” he said.

“I know.”

“And the family has mega money!”

“Right.”

“So…”

“I know what you really care about — what a person is like inside,” I told him. “Go out, one date.”

I think I just wore him down. “One. Date,” he said.

They went out on one date.

They went out on a second date.

A long second date. A six-hour second date, to be exact.

“She’s short,” he told me.

“I’m aware,” I said.

They both came back to the US. He flew in to take her out. They went out on a third, fourth, fifth, and sixth date.

“How’s it going?” I asked him.

“Great,” he said. “But she’s very short.”

At this point I put my foot down. “Yossi,” I said, “no matter how long you date her, she’s not going to grow taller. You went out six times. She’s excited, she likes you, and she can tell that you like her. If you can’t get over the height thing, you have to end it now.

“If you want to keep dating her, you need to make the conscious decision to accept the fact that she’s short. You need to acknowledge it and make the decision that the good in the relationship far outweighs any idea about the ideal height that you have banging around in your head.”

“But…” he stammered, “I always told everyone I would marry a tall girl!”

There it was. The second big issue with preconceived notions: worrying about everybody else’s opinions. He had gotten over his own “thing.” But he was still stuck on “everybody else.”

“Yossi,” I told him, “everyone else will laugh once when they hear that you’re engaged to a girl who is short, but you’ll be laughing out of pure happiness for the rest of your life.”

Yossi married Chevi, the short girl from a very affluent family who he was waiting for so many years.

Every shidduch is like Kri’as Yam Suf, but Yossi had to cross the ocean to open his mind enough to accept the gift being given to him. I’m so happy for Yossi — and for Chevi — that he was able to let go of his “thing.” We’re all still laughing.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 695)