She’ll deny it, but it was always an imbalanced relationship. Chaya was the mashpia and I was the mekabel

Years ago, you crossed paths. It may have been a brief encounter, it may have been a relationship spanning years. In that meeting place, something changed. Her hands warmed your essence, left an imprint upon your soul.
Seven writers sought out the women who changed them — and told them of the impact they’d had

It’s not difficult for me to think of a person who has impacted my life. There are several such people: my two grandmothers, who each have contributed tremendously to my way of thinking and being; my mother, whose image I see before me constantly; and each of my sisters, who impact me on a steady basis.

Then there’s one other person, unrelated to me, someone who has no idea what a role model she’s been to me. Once upon a time we were pretty close — I feel like we still are — but she no doubt simply considered us friends, while I saw her as a friend, role model, and mentor.

I don’t recall a time in my life when we didn’t know the Werfels; we always knew Joe z”l and at some point during my school years he married Julie. They were close family friends, and as Julie was sort of halfway between my mother’s age and that of my sisters and me, she was friendly with all of us. After seminary I worked for Julie — who subsequently became Chaya — for several summers and we became even closer.

After I married and moved to Eretz Yisrael, I got the shock of the decade when I received a call one day: Chaya was in Yerushalayim on a pilot trip. The Werfels were making aliyah.

Typical Chaya, I remember thinking, good enough is never good enough. They had a great life in New York; they were part of a strong community with excellent chinuch, wonderful friends, they both enriched their surroundings and gained from their community. They could ride on the momentum of being in a wonderful place in ruchniyus and gashmiyus.

But for the Werfels, good enough is never good enough. Every new day of life is a chance to become closer to Hashem than we were yesterday, or an hour ago. Everything we have in this world, talents, strengths, even the breaths we take is a vehicle to serve Him better. And so, to Israel it was — which was great for me!

She’ll deny it, but it was always an imbalanced relationship. Chaya was the mashpia and I was the mekabel. I’m not sure if I recognized it at the time, because Chaya is an incredibly down-to-earth, normal woman. She’s not a person you meet and say, “Wow, she’s soooo holy! What an experience!” No, Chaya is a fun, peppy, real person who draws you in with her warmth and million-dollar smile. Her impact on me wasn’t a sudden, one-hour-in-bright-sun sunburn, which goes away in a week, but a slow and steady exposure that seeps into your skin and leaves a deep, lasting tan, altering your complexion.

It was Chaya who introduced me to the notion of “having a good schmooze” with Hashem. We were talking about parnassah when she said, “Talk to Hashem. He’s our Father, He knows what we need. Have a good schmooze with Him!”

Now it’s a popular concept, but twenty years ago it was a novel idea for a Bais Yaakov girl. (Davening, Tehillim, certainly…. but schmoozing? Yep, schmoozing!)