Ring Me: Chapter 7
| July 8, 2020Shani Leiman with Zivia Reischer
Nechemia was 28, highly intelligent, driven, and accomplished — an overachiever from a family of overachievers. Unlike lots of guys who schmooze easily, he didn’t do small talk. Conversations with Nechemia inevitably turned intense or analytical, and more than one girl had found his sense of humor a little too sharp for comfort.
His parents were frustrated and distressed trying to get Nechemia married (“I’m losing my mind,” his father, Dr. Gordon, said). But Nechemia was good-hearted and generous and would make a great husband. He just needed someone who wouldn’t be intimidated by his personal brand of intellectualism.
Ilana was 27. She was a lawyer, her father was a lawyer, her mother was a lawyer. Perfect, I thought. Nechemia was used to accomplished women, and Ilana could handle his personality. I ran the idea by Dr. Gordon. He liked what he heard about Ilana and told me to send her shidduch resume to his wife. I sent the email while we were hanging up and called Mrs. Gordon right away.
“I’m calling about Ilana Hammler,” I began. “She’s a lawyer, works for the family firm.” I started sketching her personality and background, but before I could say much, Mrs. Gordon interrupted me.
“It sounds really great, but what did you say her name was,?”
“Hammler, Ilana Hammler. From Los Angeles.”
I heard a sharp intake of breath. “What are her parents’ names?”
“Zev and Golda.” Why was she so tense?
For a moment it was quiet, and I thought I had lost the call, but then I could hear her crying. “Thirty-five years,” she choked out. “My husband has been suffering for 35 years. And now this!”
I waited until she had composed herself enough to talk. “Thirty-five years ago,” she said, “my husband was engaged to Ilana’s mother, Golda Brackman. Now Golda Hammler. And he broke it.” She took a deep breath.
“The broken engagement caused a lot of agmas nefesh for the family. My husband felt terrible about it. He tried several times to ask for mechilah, but he was rebuffed each time. He tried getting their rav involved, then his rosh yeshivah… nothing. After a few years he stopped trying, but he never made peace with it. How could he?”
“Okay,” I said, trying to process this.
“Two years ago, the family sat shiva for Golda Hammler’s mother. My husband wrote a letter to one of the sons, recalling the episode and asking again for mechilah from the boy’s mother and the rest of the family. But he never got a reply.” Her voice rose with emotion. “And now you’re calling to suggest her daughter for our son!”
“Okay,” I said. I was reeling from what I had just heard. Forget the shidduch, Hashem put me here for a different reason entirely. I thought quickly. “Would you consider the shidduch if you had a shtar mechilah in your hand?”
Mrs. Gordon’s voice was hard. “You’re not going to be able to get it. So many people have tried and failed, for so many years.”
“But if I got you a shtar mechilah, would you say yes?”
A pause.
“I’m sure my husband would agree,” she said.
I didn’t hesitate. I called Golda Hammler immediately. “I have an amazing idea for Ilana,” I said. I described Nechemia, careful not to divulge his name.
“It does sound amazing,” she said.
I took a deep breath. “His name is Nechemia Gordon,” I said. “And I agree, I do think it’s an amazing idea. There’s one minor issue,” I said, without pausing, “but I think we can take care of it quickly. It seems you were engaged to Dr. Gordon at one point many years ago, and he would like a shtar mechilah before they go out.”
I didn’t wait for a response. “I have a written shtar mechilah that I’m forwarding to you right now. You’ll see a space for your name and a space for his name. The text says that you forgive him completely and bear no resentment toward him. Please fill it out, sign it, and send it back to me by tomorrow morning.”
I walked around in a daze for the rest of the day. A shadchan is just a shaliach — I know that — but this really drove the point home. You put in the effort, Hashem creates the results that were meant for you. Sometimes we think we know what’s right, but Hashem knows better. Sometimes we think we’re making a shidduch, but instead we’re making peace.
A few hours later, Ilana’s mother called back. “I will sign a shtar mechilah,” she said slowly, “if he signs one, too.”
Within the hour I had two signed documents in my hand, closing the door on 35 years of pain.
The beginning of a new shidduch completed the end of an old one, and the end of an old one allowed for a new one to begin. Ultimately, Nechemia and Ilana decided they weren’t meant for each other, but we had already accomplished what needed to be done. Whether you get what you’re hoping for or something totally different, it’s always Hashem bringing the pieces together.
to be continued…
Shani Leiman is a teacher and shadchan in Silver Spring, Maryland.
(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 700)
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