“I have only one married child,” she shared, “and no grandchildren yet.” She got noticeably choked-up as her tale unfolded.
“Finally, I could take it no longer. I called my rav and poured out my heart to him.”
“ ‘Why is Hashem punishing me so?’ ” she asked him. “ ‘My children can’t find their bashert, and I have no grandchildren whatsoever, when other women my age already have great-grandchildren!’ ”
“The rav listened to my story, and heard my pitiful sobs.”
“ ‘Have you ever hurt anyone?’ ” he inquired. “ ‘Have you caused tzaar to another person, whether intentionally or not? Been not so nice to someone, perhaps?’ ”
“That is why I am calling you,” she explained, still not furnishing any rhyme or reason for her inexplicable rejection all those years earlier. “Please be mochel me!”
I murmured something about having pretty much forgiven her long ago, and the conversation came to an amicable close.
Well, not quite. My husband had overheard my end of the conversation, and after I had filled him in on the details, he commented, “You didn’t sound too cordial on the phone.”
“What did you expect me to do, dance?” was my biting retort.
But his words remained with me, and I found her mother’s number and phoned several weeks later. Incredibly, the daughter was visiting once again, and we were able to continue where we had left off.
“Baruch Hashem one of my children got engaged since we last spoke!” she enthused.
When at last we said our good-byes, I took her contact information and began to keep in touch periodically. Too much time and traveling in different directions had taken their toll, so we never did reestablish our once close relationship. Nevertheless I rejoiced with her over each new simcha and the birth of every additional grandchild.
We cannot turn back the clock, it’s true, but it is never too late to make an overture, rectify a past hurt, and reach out to one another in love and forgiveness.
Our benevolent Father in Heaven reaps untold joy and nachas ruach when His children get along; that in turn results in His showering bountiful joy and nachas upon his beloved children. And, unlike the deluges that marked my seminary year, these Heaven-sent showers are truly the ultimate in pure life-giving blessing.