Finding a Soul Mate (Meant to be Together Book 1)

by Ally Richards

  “Especially Rashi’s commentary,” he said.

  Samantha and Grandma Esther came over to Dov and Cora’s house as the study group was ending. Our family members gathered for lunch. Did I tell you that Cora was a wonderful cook? Let me tell you, she can cook. She served blueberry blintzes, spinach soufflé, smoked white fish, French toast made from leftover Challah, plus a tray of lox, bagels, and cream cheese.

  As I sat down, Joan sent me that eat-slow look she sends me when it appears like I am going to inhale a meal instead of eat it.

  I told Samantha what Jonathan had done in the study group.

  “I know. He knows all the Torah. Remember when I drew a picture of Noah and the Ark a few weeks ago? Jonathan told me the story and what lessons I could learn from it. Whenever we get together, he tells me another Torah story and its lessons.

  “Wait until he tells you the story about the burning bush. It was on fire but not being burned up. He explains stories so well I told him he should write a children’s book about the Torah.”

  We parents were shocked to hear about all this. I always wondered what Samantha and Jonathan spent so much time talking about, but foolishly assumed it was child talk. I never thought he was teaching her Torah.

  “Jonathan can’t write,” Joan explained to Samantha.

  “So he can tell me and I’ll write them,” Samantha announced.

  Cora suggested, “Samantha, I’ll tell you what. I’ll write down the stories if you would draw the illustrations for them. If you have trouble, your mom can help you. What do you say?”

  “That would be fun,” an elated Samantha exclaimed.

  Over the next year my six-year-old daughter spent many hours with her mom working on illustrations. Joan would read a new section of Jonathan’s book to Samantha and they would discuss what an appropriate illustration would look like. Samantha would plunge into a drawing with occasional advice from her mom. It was becoming obvious that Samantha was an industrious worker who kept on task through completion. That first book was published just prior to Jonathan’s Bar Mitzvah.

  * * *

  When we gathered for Jonathan’s Bar Mitzvah, there was a feeling of immense pride in the family for Jonathan’s accomplishments. His preparation for his Bar Mitzvah and his knowledge of Torah were superb. The glow from his parent’s expressions could have illuminated an entire city at midnight.

  Before reading Jonathan’s Bar Mitzvah speech to the congregation, the Rabbi commented on Jonathan’s work ethic and love of Torah. He had memorized and analyzed a tremendous amount of Torah and Torah commentary.

  The beginning of Jonathan’s speech analyzed the day’s Parsha from a number of viewpoints and what each of us could learn from it to improve our lives. Near the end, Jonathan thanked his parents and family for all their help and their continual belief in his ability to get things done.

  “Not like there was a choice in my house,” the Rabbi continued reading to us. “My parents never allowed me to feel sorry for myself. In fact, they never let me have time to feel sorry for myself. They expect the same level of commitment to my tasks as they do of my brother, Nathan. And that’s a lot, isn’t it, Nathan? Once my mom and dad realized how quickly I could memorize Torah, they told me this was a gift from God and I had a responsibility to use that gift. Of course, that just meant I had to work harder to learn much more. Thanks to all my friends and family for their patience with my speech and physical disabilities. I know it is difficult to understand me, especially when I get excited. Right, Dad? Thanks to all the doctors, plus the speech and physical therapists, who did so much to help me over the years, so I am able to do many more things to take care of myself than I could a few years ago. Thanks to my brother, Nathan, who never complained when I took so much of our parents’ attention to address my disabilities—and who still tries to teach me the mathematics that brings him so much joy. I’m sorry, Nathan. I get joy watching you get excited about your mathematics, but your calculus equations might as well be written in Chinese.”

  The Rabbi smiled as he read. “The other day Nathan was telling me about a transfer equation. Did you know there were equations that could transfer something? Who knew? When I was younger and feeling sad about my lack of abilities, my mother would tell me, ‘At a minimum you can be an example to your younger brother of how to be a good person.’ I have to admit there were many times when my brother was a good example for me. Thank you for being such a great brother, Nathan.”

  Nathan beamed with happiness.

  Jonathan looked pleased as the Rabbi continued to read. “It was my father who always reminded me that while my body was in a wheelchair, my mind wasn’t. Naturally, this was followed with, ‘So get busy and study’. A special thank you goes to my cousin Samantha, who has incredible patience when listening to me. It was her idea I become the author of a children’s book about Torah. She always has time to discuss the week’s Parsha with me. I’m proud to say that she is the illustrator—with Aunt Joan’s assistance—of my first book. Most of all, thanks to my parents who pushed, prodded, and poked, both my body and my mind to always do my best and be the best person I could be. With family like this surrounding me, I know I’ll be able to live a Torah and joy filled life.”

  The Rabbi gestured toward Jonathan, indicating he was done reading and everyone cheered for Jonathan. We were all so very proud of him and what he had accomplished. Jonathan was a living example of why we should not judge a book by its cover.

  * * *

  A few years later, Joan approached Samantha and told her she needed to start thinking about a project for her Bat Mitzvah.

  So, Samantha started thinking about the kind of Mitzvah projects her older cousins completed. Jonathan had decided to give the proceeds from his first book to a charity for handicapped children in Israel. Nathan had volunteered to tutor students in learning Hebrew.

  Samantha decided to go to Great-Grandma Esther to discuss her ideas. She’d told her she wanted to do something to get children out of wheelchairs, and together they decided Samantha’s Mitzvah project would need a great name, so they called it Kids Don’t Belong in Wheelchairs.

  Great-Grandma Esther helped her identify four charities performing research on neuromuscular diseases that would be equal beneficiaries of her fundraising project. To get her project off the ground, Joan and Samantha made some posters and Great-Grandma Esther brought Samantha to a gathering of her friends to make a presentation about her project.

  She’d received her first checks that day, and some of the women gave her the work phone numbers of their husbands and told her to call and make an appointment to tell them about her Bat Mitzvah project.

  Samantha rehearsed a speech, and Joan or I would drive her and her posters around to tell people about the project. All the husbands of the women who’d heard Samantha’s presentation the first time had checks they presented to her as well.

  One time, she’d visited a small stationary store where she’d pitched her project—they not only gave her a check, but printed beautiful thank-you notes for her to use.

  A few months before her Bat Mitzvah, Samantha was studying with our congregation’s Rabbi and he told her she was doing well in her studies for her Bat Mitzvah. He wanted to talk to her about a Mitzvah project. “Many of my students are volunteering at senior citizens homes,” he said to her, “or volunteering to help tutor younger students learning Hebrew, or even volunteering at hospitals. What would you like to do?”

  She proudly told him, “I already have a project. It’s called Kids Don’t Belong in Wheelchairs. I started working on it a year ago. The idea is to motivate companies and individuals to donate money to be divided between the four charities I have identified who are doing research on neuromuscular diseases.”

  “Samantha, I don’t know if fundraising is an appropriate project. I think volunteering your time, working one-on-one with a needy person, is a better way to learn about Tzedakah.”

  In true Samantha fashion she replied, “I�
��m sorry Rabbi, but with all due respect, I think getting children out of wheelchairs is much more important. I have a cousin who has spent his entire life in a wheelchair. I could ask him if he’d rather spend time with me or have me spending time to get him out of the wheelchair, but I’m sure I know what his answer would be. Besides, this weekend my family and I are flying down to Florida to visit my dad’s college roommate and pitch him on my project. I wasn’t supposed to know, but I heard my dad tell my mom that he’s giving me a check for ten thousand dollars.”

  “Ten thousand dollars?” the Rabbi asked incredulously.

  “Yes.” Samantha swelled with pride. “I have twenty-three thousand dollars in the bank now and if I get to fifty thousand, some of the people who have already given me donations will give me an extra five thousand dollars. My grandmother even had me describe my project to a large group of her friends. I think this is a great Mitzvah project.”

  “Well, Samantha, I have to agree with you,” the Rabbi conceded. “We must remember this when you are older. We have a fundraising committee here at the synagogue and they could use someone like you.”

  Samantha chose a fascinating Parsha to discuss at her Bat Mitzvah, and naturally, Jonathan helped her analyse it. After more than a year of study preparing for her Bat Mitzvah, it was Samantha’s chance to be the center of attention in our family for a weekend. And let me tell you, she was excited.

  Time flies, and just a few years later, we would be gathering for Ari’s Bar Mitzvah.

  Chapter Eleven

  ~ Ari’s Bar Mitzvah Week

  My college roommate, Larry, and his wife, Danielle, came out for the entire week of Ari’s Bar Mitzvah. They brought their children, Austin, Ann, Marsha, and Leah along as well. Leah is the youngest, born a month after Ari. We planned to go to Florida for Leah’s Bat Mitzvah the following month. Everyone was excited to see each other again.

  It was a blessing for the two families that Larry and I had stayed in touch after college. The families gathered at least once a year after Joan and I were married—sometimes twice a year. They were more like family than friends, and Joan and Danielle developed a close friendship. Samantha loved talking to Danielle about ethics. Samantha, Ann, and Leah became close and had lots of talks about girl stuff. Larry loved talking to Samantha and Ari, and I also spent many happy hours talking with Austin, Ann, and Marsha.

  Marsha was a sweet child who appeared to get along with everyone, but never seemed really close to anyone. Instead of giving her own opinion, Marsha seemed to tell the listener what she thought they wanted to hear. Even Larry said once that he didn’t know how Marsha felt about anything.

  The older she became, the more distant she became. Danielle told us Marsha talked with her about how a person knows right from wrong when most children her age would be playing with friends—Marsha had few of those.

  She took many long walks by herself, even though Larry and Danielle often tried to get her involved in art, music, sports, and dance. Nothing seemed to interest her. They’d told us she started seeing a therapist on an occasional basis around nine years of age.

  The winter before Samantha’s Bat Mitzvah, we’d gathered together with Larry and Danielle’s family for a vacation at Disneyworld. Ari and Leah were about seven-years-old and they were immediately attracted to each other. They went on most of the rides together. At times I thought they were oblivious to the rest of us. They were the only seven-year-olds, so it seemed quite natural that they would want to be together.

  Occasionally they both wanted to do something no one else wanted to do; they were too young to go alone so Samantha volunteered to go with them. I didn’t realize it until years later, but Samantha was the first one in the family to treat them like a little couple. I don’t know how she sensed it, but she did.

  Once Samantha developed an idea of what they thought was fun, she would look for activities they could enjoy together. Needless to say, they adored Samantha. Leah and Ari screamed together on the children’s roller coaster rides, shot water cannons at pretend enemies, laughed and joked with each other on train rides—all under Samantha’s watchful eye.

  I was amazed at Samantha’s maturity in guiding the two of them. When they would argue about which activity to do next, Samantha would help them figure it out—she didn’t decide for them, but helped them decide for themselves. She even chided them if their arguing became too loud. They would calm down immediately. No way were they going to disappoint Samantha.

  At the end of that magical day we were all exhausted. Samantha, Leah, and Ari moved into the back seat of Larry’s van. Samantha sat in the middle and seconds after Leah and Ari had their seat belts fastened, they were fast asleep, each of them leaning against Ari’s big sister, who had her arms around them.

  There was one constant whenever the families were together—within a couple of hours Ari and Leah would find activities they could do together. The older they became, the more they laughed, and the more they looked forward to seeing each other. Certainly as they grew older, they grew closer.

  * * *

  Shortly after Larry’s family arrived at our home for Ari’s Bar Mitzvah, I saw Ari walking up from our dock on the lake. A smiling Leah walked out to meet him and he started smiling too as soon as he spotted her. Ari was becoming a muscular thirteen-year-old, running daily and working out with weights at least three times a week. He also had a great tan. Joan sometimes referred to him as her little Greek god and always said he would be a real heartbreaker someday.

  Leah was petite like her mom and inherited her mom’s attractive good looks. Her dark hair was cut short. They walked up to each other and engaged in a brief hug.

  We couldn’t hear their words but their body language had clearly taken on a flirtatious tone since the last time our families were together.

  Ari flexed a bicep and Leah gave him a playful push. He grinned at her and lifted up his t-shirt to show her his thirteen-year-old six-pack.

  She shoved him again and they both laughed. They engaged in another longer hug and proceeded up to the house.

  Joan and I looked at each other. “Were we doing that at their age?” she asked.

  “Different generation.”

  “I’ll say! I think we need to reduce the cabin to ashes pretty soon.”

  Ari and Leah walked into the house and joyfully greeted the rest of each of our families.

  Joan suggested the two of them go over to Great-Grandma Esther’s apartment and let her know Larry and Danielle’s family had arrived.

  Esther came over to the main house with Ari and Leah and greeted the rest of Larry’s family with big hugs for everyone.

  Leah, Ari, and Esther sat down at the table and opened some of Esther’s canned nectarines and laid out some fresh-baked cookies. “Great-Grandma Esther,” Leah said, “I’ve been looking forward to talking to you. Joan told me you knew who your life partner was the first time you met him. Can you tell me how you knew?”

  “I can only tell you how it was for me. I was a little older than you two are when I met Manny. He rescued my sister, Shifrah, and me from some bullies. Although, he always insisted we rescued each other.” Esther smiled at the memory.

  “Manny walked us home after he scared those bullies off, and we talked about things that were important parts of our lives. It was obvious we shared many similar things, including values. I saw how my sister reacted to him in such a positive way. Mostly, I felt a growing feeling in my heart my future should be with Manny. Kinder, he took such good care of me. Certainly there were times when we disagreed but in all the years we were together, I never once felt I wanted anything other than a life with him—and if he became angry or I became angry, we didn’t stay angry.”

  She looked seriously at Leah and Ari. “I’ll tell you something else about us you might consider. We promised each other we would never go to bed angry at one another. Sometimes he needed some time on his own to think through a problem he was experiencing. So I left him alone during those t
imes. He would work it out and I would have my happy, loving Manny back. It’s not always easy. Sometimes one partner grows faster than the other, in a maturity sense. But be patient and soon enough you’ll be at the same level again. Being together also means being supportive. Manny couldn’t draw a thing but loved to watch me paint. He became filled with joy from my joy. I see that in you two as well.”

  Ari and Leah were holding hands under the table as Esther was talking. I’m sure they thought no one could see them as we were gathered in the other room. But with a clear view of the dining table Joan and I saw everything. It made my heart smile. When Esther would mention some characteristic of a couple who were meant to be together, if Ari and Leah had already experienced it, Leah seemed to squeeze Ari’s hand tighter as if to say, “That’s us!”

  Esther’s expression seemed filled with remembrance of things past and hopes for the young ones’ futures. “I have had a feeling for a long time the two of you belonged together. But it doesn’t matter what I feel. What matters is what your heart is telling you. Leah, he looks at you like Manny looked at me. And Ari, it gives this old lady such joy to see how you watch out for her, just like Manny did for me.”

  After a moment of quiet Esther stood and smiled. “I have something for you at my apartment. Please come over and let me show it to you.”

  So the three of them walked to Esther’s apartment—Ari and Leah each holding onto one of Great-Grandma Esther’s hands.

  Before long they returned carrying an old painting of clouds. “That’s the painting I did for Manny the day after he rescued me,” Esther told us. “Although I’m going to put a sign on it now, I wanted everyone to know, so there’d be no mix-ups. When I’m gone, this painting goes to these two.” She gestured to Ari and Leah who were both grinning. “I know I’m old, but when I watch these two, it’s like watching Manny and me when we were young.”