s he whispered the words of Tehillim, Yitzy tried to concentrate. It was very hard to do.

I don’t believe this, he thought to himself. What in the world are we doing here in this office? Why in the world did these people want me, a third grader, to come to this meeting?

Yitzy didn’t have much time to dwell on these thoughts. Suddenly, the office door opened and the secretary led someone into the room.

The man in the suit looked very happy and excited. “Ahh, Mr. Burtman,” he cried, as he stuck out his hand to the man. “Welcome, welcome. Please have a seat by the table.”

Yitzy studied the face of the man who had just walked in. He was not happy with what he saw. Mr. Burtman had longish, messy hair hanging down from under an old orange baseball cap. Yitzy shuddered. He could tell by the way the man looked at his family that he was not happy to see them. His eyes were two slits glaring icily at the Levinsons. His face seemed twisted into an angry sneer, and his mustache twitched nervously as he studied the family sitting at the table. Without taking his angry eyes off the Levinsons, he backed himself into a seat facing the lawyer.

The lawyer cleaned his glasses once more, cleared his throat loudly, and began to speak.

“Ahem. Welcome. My name is Herbert J. Blum, attorney-at-law. I represent the Greentree Management Company. I’d like to thank you all for coming today.”

Rabbi Levinson kissed his Tehillim and nervously put it back into his jacket pocket.

“You have been brought here today to discuss something important.”

Suddenly, Mr. Blum’s voice grew deeper.

“Something of very great importance,” he repeated.

Rabbi Levinson wrung his hands nervously.

“Um… excuse me,” he interrupted. “I’d just like you to know, once again, that my family and I really like our apartment and I will try very hard to pay my rent on time next month. Please don’t throw us out of our home.”

Mr. Blum became flustered by the interruption. Once again, he removed his glasses and rubbed them against his shirt to clean them.

“Rabbi Levinson,” he said, “I assure you that today’s meeting has nothing to do with your rent or your apartment.”

Rabbi Levinson was shocked.

“It… doesn’t?” he stammered.

“No,” answered Mr. Blum.

Now, Rabbi Levinson was more nervous than before. Nothing was making sense. What was going on?

Mr. Blum straightened the pile of papers before continuing.

“You have all been called here today to hear the reading of a letter.”

Rabbi and Mrs. Levinson looked at each other. They couldn’t imagine what this letter had to do with them.

“As you know,” continued Mr. Blum, “I work for the Greentree Management Company, a very large and wealthy company. I have called you here today to read to you a letter written by the owner of this company, a man by the name of Mr. Irving Greenbaum.”

“Mr. Greenbaum?” cried Yitzy.

“What?” gasped Rabbi Levinson. “Do you mean our Mr. Greenbaum, who lives down the hall?”

(Excerpted from Mishpacha Jr., Issue 753)