I was standing in a room full of people about to give my weekly Torah class to a group of beautiful Syrian women who I had come to love. This week Sandy had brought along her cousin from Israel who looked ready to pounce.

But I determinedly plunged in refusing to deviate one iota from my prepared lesson. It was just before Yom Kippur and I proceeded to recount the transformative experience that was my first Yom Kippur as a married woman hoping it would inspire them as it inspired me.

To read the rest of this story please buy this issue of Mishpacha or sign up for a weekly subscription.