Photos: Menachem Kalish

Hadassah: 30, secretary

Reuven: 32, kollel avreich

Meir Shternberg: financial counselor and project director of JOIN Israel’s Pitronot Advocacy program, which helps people who have fallen into financial and legal difficulties

Hadassah

I

’m the enterprising type. Even though my primary job is being a school secretary, I get a thrill out of starting side businesses like selling hand-made soaps from my home. I’m good at managing finances and good at budgeting. I say this from the outset, because it’s important for people to know that money problems don’t only happen to the fiscally clueless or to the women who just have to dress their kids in the latest brand-name fashions.

My husband, on the other hand, is the type who likes to know there’s a regular salary coming in, is prepared to live simply and within budget, and beyond that, doesn’t want to think about money. So back when we were first married, we agreed that I would handle the family finances. The arrangement satisfied us both; Reuven was happy to leave money matters in my capable hands, and I was happy my husband could learn undisturbed.

One of my side interests has always been real estate. I love the idea of buying, renovating, and managing properties. I tried my hand at this on a small scale when I remodeled and then managed my sister’s short-term rental suite. And then an opportunity came up for me to try this for myself. After renting for many years, we were finally ready to buy our own apartment. We knew we could only afford something small.

But a realtor mentioned an apartment for sale that sounded like a dream come true. It was big; with four bedrooms, it was larger than anything I’d ever imagined or thought we could afford. But it also had a nice amount of undeveloped space, and I knew exactly what I wanted to do with this: Build offices to rent out to individual businesses. A lot of my friends worked as graphic designers or in other freelance jobs, and as their families grew, their home offices ended up becoming a second children’s bedroom.

No one in our Jerusalem suburb had living space to spare, so I reasoned that an office hub for women would be a great niche, the perfect way for us to cover our large mortgage and maybe even make a little extra income. A real win-win situation.

I brought in a contractor and got an estimate for the construction work: NIS 200,000. I felt my excitement rising. I could swing NIS 200,000; it was actually less than I’d expected. After hearing this, I went home and told my husband about the fantastic opportunity.

Reuven was skeptical. “Why do we need this headache? I’d rather buy something we know we can afford.”

I looked around our tiny two-bedroom rental, which housed us and our three young children.

“Im yirtzeh Hashem, our family will grow,” I said. “Doesn’t it make sense to buy a place we can grow into?”

Reuven shrugged. I knew he would be perfectly happy squeezing into that little apartment the rest of his life. But after more persuasion on my part — including a promise that I would handle everything, nuts to bolts — he eventually agreed to the purchase.

I calculated exactly how much we could afford to pay each month, calculated the rental income from the offices, and took out a hefty mortgage. Soon the apartment was ours.

Now it was time for the renovations — and that’s when things began to go terribly wrong. We got the permits, began the construction — and then I got the phone call from the contractor.

“Giveret, you have big problems here. The floor, it’s falling apart.” (Excerpted from Mishpacha, Issue 720)