It’s always nice when an article is pure inspiration with no undertones of pain or controversy. Sometimes we’ve had to confront issues or ideas that were less than pretty and we knew the feedback would be equally so. Writing an article means that you’re a target for feedback and if the reader doesn’t like a quote or one of the subjects in any given article you’re the bad guy.

But I didn’t expect the amount of raw pain spawned by my most recent piece “Pressing Reset on the Recession.” This past week’s issue featured a parnassah roundtable where we sat with a panel of concerned Yidden each of whom invests most of his energy into seeking solutions and discussed the bleak economic climate and the difficulty and pressure of supporting a family in times like this.

On Shabbos a fellow came over to me and I saw that he was frustrated even before he opened his mouth. “I’m so happy that all your experts know what they’re talking about all their ideas and solutions.” His voice was dripping acid.

I’ve learned not to respond to a certain tone of voice so I waited for the inevitable next sentence.

“Let me tell you something” he hissed grabbing my arm. “My story. You can feed it to your experts if you want see what they say.”

“Every single morning for two years I got up davened early made my tie just so grabbed my briefcase and headed out to work. Except there was no work. Nothing. I would drive around navigating traffic on the highway and sloppy road conditions until I decided on an appropriate exit. I would pull off and look for a Starbucks anywhere I could fill two three or seven hours. I would learn Mishnayos read some books and then take a nap. It was the worst period of my life.”

He paused feeling foolish as if he’d revealed too much. “I know it’s not your fault and I’m sure your panelists are wonderful people but no one can imagine that pain. My wife called two times a day to know how work was. She would comment that I seemed to be busier than ever since I never had time to talk anymore and I would just shrug and say ‘Yeah huge project.’

“I got by financially with help from a brother then a loan from an uncle and  I suspect that the rav in my shul also put together some money which was sent to me anonymously. I managed and she didn’t find out. Next time try interviewing some people like me who had to live a lie for two years. Don’t live with your head in the sands with all your fairy-tale endings.”

Baruch Hashem his story had a happy ending if not a fairy-tale one. He found work eventually and in time gathered the strength and self-confidence to tell his wife the truth about those two years.

But on the way home from shul contemplating his story I was struck with the force of an old memory.

When I came to learn in the Lakewood yeshivah there was a legend often retold — though not without some degree of horror. There was an older bochur in the dormitory who for some reason couldn’t get a date. Worried about public perception the unfortunate fellow according to the story would go through the motions every so often: shaving dressing in a suit and tie and heading off in a rented car. Four hours later he would return just like his roommates — back from his make-believe date.

I don’t know if the story was true (I hope it wasn’t) or merely retold to draw attention to a difficult situation but it came bouncing back at me like the old pink Spalding balls flying off the stoop.

Twelve years ago there were still boys who didn’t have dates. It was just before the shidduch crisis became a household term before we heard tales of lists and shadchanim getting paid to get dates for girls and boys being chased down while still in Eretz Yisrael. It was before an entire tzedakah industry was established preying on the vulnerability of single girls that they might not find their bashert without some kind of major protektzia in Heaven.

Then everyone boys and girls alike waited and prayed for the right one.

Today all the boys have dates — but the men don’t have jobs.

Just a thought.

I don’t have solutions not to any crisis but it’s clear that different times bring different nisyonos — and different yeshuos. May the dedicated and ever-innovative men I was privileged to sit with succeed in their mandates; bringing jobs to our community hope to our beleaguered breadwinners a reason to hold their heads high.

And as a wise man said: “Gedolah parnassah shemechabedes es baaleha” say Chazal parnassah is “great” because it honors the individual. The question is obvious: is that the greatness of parnassah? That it honors the “owner”? What about the fact that it feeds his family allows him to live and exist for another day so that he might carry out the will of the Creator?

No was the answer: we see that there is a fundamental value in having parnassah that has nothing to do with turning a profit or living comfortably. Parnassah itself has an inherent dignity — getting up and going out to work is itself an honor a source of dignity conferred on a human being.

Just as I heard last Shabbos.