Should I start by saying where we live in Jerusalem? Should I mention that there are more than 30,000 residents in our area of over 3,500 acres, as well as how many streets and buildings there are? Should I write about all the errands I planned to do with our two youngest children, where we planned to go and where we ended up?
It seemed like any ordinary day in Jerusalem, (though every day is always extraordinary in some way) after Chol HaMoed, when our food supplies, detergent, and toiletries had run out and needed replenishing. So off we went on the number 59 bus, assuming we would stop first on Bar Ilan Street to get printer ink cartridges, then to Geulah for shoes, and then to the famous Mahane Yehudah farmer’s market shuk to stock up on numerous necessities at our favorite low-cost hardware, vegetable, spice and nut stores.
One of my errands depositing a check in our bank at Davidka Square near Mahane Yehudah, but when we reached the bus stop in Geulah, I realized that we could stop at the branch there instead, which would save time later.
“Where are you going Imma?” my kids asked when we disembarked from the bus near Kikar Shabbos.
“Oh, just for a second to the bank.”
After slipping a deposit envelop into the bank mailbox on the outside wall, I went inside to get more envelops. My son followed me in and asked, “Why are the envelops different colors?”
“Blue ones are for checks, and red ones are for cash,” I answered simply.
Just then he noticed an open check book on the counter top. He picked it up and said, “Look Imma, someone left this here. Here, you can call her.” He handed it to me and hmm… yes, it was definitely a private check book left unattended, with a woman’s name, address, and phone number printed at the top.
“Call her, Imma, and tell them we found her check book.”
Pleased with my young son’s willingness to do the mitzvah of hasheivas aveidah, I got out my cell phone and called the number on the check. I didn’t recognize the street address written on the check, but I hoped it was nearby.
No one answered so I left a message, “We just found your check book in the Discount Bank in Geulah. If you hear this message in the next half hour, please call us so we can arrange to meet you and get it back to you. Otherwise, we live in Neve Yaakov, which isn’t walking distance from here.”
I left my phone number, hung up, and then off we ventured, trying to stock up on every item on our shopping list, filling up our agalah shuk, and taking turns pulling the heavy load it carried.
The shuk was the most exciting place to go and before we headed home, we stopped to daven Minchah at the kever of the holy tsaddik, Rav Aryeh Leib Alter ztz”l, known as the Sefas Emes, which, unbeknownst to many, is right across the train tracks from Mahane Yehudah. Exhausted from our productive expedition, I thought this was a very special way to end a long, tiring day before taking the bus back to Neve Yaakov.
When we finally arrived home, I was amazed that the first thing my son said upon walking in the door was, “Imma, call the lady again!”
“Oh, right, she never called us back!” I realized.
I tried to organize a quick dinner, while Shimon looked at the checkbook, found the phone number, and tried calling. It was busy. He called again. It was busy. He called a third time and it was still busy.
“Don’t worry, she will call us when she has a chance. It’s okay, don’t call again,” I told him.
Just as he hung up our home phone, my cell phone rang. I recognized the number right away!
“Hello.”
“Oh, you speak English?”
“Yes, yes.”
“So we aren’t in town now. How can we get this back to you? We live in Neve Yaakov.”
“Well, I have several children living in Neve Yaakov.”
“Really, where? That simplifies things!” I said with enthusiasm.
“I’m not sure the names of the streets…” she hesitated.
“Well, do they live in Kaminetz, or in what we call the “Mitchared” area where more younger couples live? We live on Neiman near the stores.”
“I think it’s called the Mitchared,” Mrs. Yossef ventured. “But I do have one daughter who I think lives closer to you.”
“Hmm… so let’s see what we can do. I can look up her name in our local phone book to find out where they live.”
“Well, she hasn’t been there that long, I don’t know if her address would already be listed.”
“Oh… hmm… well, my daughter lives on Asher Goulak street up the hill.”
“I recognize that name. I have another daughter, and she lives on that street.”
“Really, that’s great! Do you know what number building?”
Mrs. Yossef paused to think before saying a number I didn’t recognize.
“I think that is an old number. They renumbered the buildings. What’s her last name? If she has lived here longer, she’s in the phonebook.”
As soon as Mrs. Yossef said her daughter’s married name, I looked it up… and yes, there she was in the same building as my daughter!
“Wow, this is wonderful,” I gushed. “My son-in-law needs to come by and pick something up soon, so I can give him your checkbook to give to your family to give to you!”
My children were listening to every word, and my daughter said, “Imma, ask her what her grandchildren’s names are! I think they are friends of your grandchildren and they play together every day!”
I asked and she told me and my daughter enthused, “Yes, yes! Moshi and Yitzki play with them every day!”
“Mrs. Yossef, you are not going to believe this, but what do you think the statistical probability is that someone would find your check book in a bank where she wasn’t planning to go in downtown Jerusalem, who happens to have grandchildren that are friends of your grandchildren in an outskirt neighborhood of Jerusalem that has hundreds of buildings and thousands of families??! Hodu l’Hashem!”
Everything is supervised by the Director of the World, even the littlest things!
