When my daughter was eight years old, we realized that she had sharp mind for learning. I asked her, “Do you know Who gave you seichel?”
I thought a lot, and that’s why I have seichel,” she told me. “And Who gave you the ability to think?” I asked. She asked me the same question – “Who gave me the ability to think?” – and I told her, “You should know that we received our seichel from the Ribbono shel Olam. It was not you who did this. Don’t think you are more special than other girls, because they also received special gifts from Hashem, different gifts than yours. If there’s a girl who wants you to explain something to her in math, don’t think she’s stupid. She’s a good, smart girl, but math is difficult for her. You also have some subjects that are difficult for you, right?”
This was fairly accurate. There were subjects that she did not like so much, but she succeeded in all of them. I tried very hard to help her understand that she was really just like everyone, so she wouldn’t boast, and so she’d help others willingly, with the sense that someone is always helping someone else. I think I succeeded in this when I heard her talking on the phone with her friend and explaining the material to her so well, and with such chein. Halevai all the teachers and mechanchim could explain like this.
The years flew by, and my daughter turned eighteen. She had developed into an especially successful young lady, with everything a bas Yisrael should have – tznius, yiras Shamayim, wisdom and chein. Shidduch proposals began coming in for her, and we checked into them one by one, seeking the very best for her.
B’shaah tovah she got engaged to a bachur with “all the ma’alos.” His depth amazed me. When he shared with me the Torah he’d prepared, I wasn’t able to follow all his thought processes; they were brilliant.
Today, I think he got his divrei Torah from somewhere else, but I have no complaints about this. If a bachur understands what he’s saying, that’s also a great thing; but there were other things I had asked about directly, and the shadchan answered with confidence that he was completely good. He was so excited that I believed him.
Did I look into it? Of course I did, but I didn’t understand the hints. Someone told me, “He is definitely okay,” and I should have understood that “okay” was too low a grade. The shadchan pushed, I was convinced, and the bachur became my son-in-law.
Before much time had elapsed, we discovered that this was not what we had anticipated. The successful shidduch was not so successful after all, and my daughter’s struggle is very significant. I let out all my frustration on the shadchan. I was angry at him and felt resentment against him for having misled me. I stopped saying hello to him, and because he is part of my kehillah, every time I came to shul I was careful not to meet him. My life became a nightmare; the son-in-law within and the shadchan outside.
One day I decided to subscribe to the Hashgachah Pratis Magazine. For the children. I did not want them to read all sorts of questionable material, and I thought this magazine could be a great solution. They were excited by the pictures and the amazing stories, my wife enjoyed the women’s column with chinuch advice, and I myself would skim through it...until I found myself reading it more intently. One month, then another, and the magazine turned into a permanent guest in our home. I noticed my mood had improved and I was more relaxed.
Suddenly, I understood the simple truth that the shadchan was only a messenger. It’s not him, it’s the Ribbono shel Olam, and my daughter did not “fall into” something; rather, she received a struggle that had been determined for her from on High, and if I want to help her, my job is to strengthen her and be mechazek her in emunah, not to weaken her by casting blame on everyone around her.
I went back to being friendly with the shadchan. Once again I can see him in shul, and I’m not uncomfortable about it. I must express my deep thanks to Machon Shaar Habitachon for recalibrating my mind and giving me the proper outlook on the nisayon that Hakadosh Baruch Hu brought us, and giving me back a calm and serene life.
