okay, and now for something really mi-shamayim
New topic: my new kallah !
I've had several requests to tell about my son's fiancee, so I will wax eloquent (hopefully you won't want me to wane .)
I had never made a shidduch in my life, though I did try once or twice with friends, but without success. Never did I think I would be a shadchanit for my own son. He is engaged to a lovely Yerushalmit, from a wonderful Sepharadi family (a real 'mixed-marriage', as we are Ashkenazim.) But (nyaah nyaah) I found her first! She came to the States for six months to broaden her horizons, improve her English and work for a while - for one of our acquaintences, a family who also davened at our Chabad. I met her first (she remembered where--I didn't; that's what you get with age...) at a friend's sukkah party a year ago Sukkot. We saw each other in shul, almost every Shabbat, and we talked. I was so excited to meet someone from Jerusalem, someone who spoke fluent Hebrew.
So, during the course of one of our conversations, I had the audacity to just 'mention' to her that, by the way, I have a twenty-two year old son who is single, but might like to meet her; would she be interested in meeting him? She must have thought I was just another crazy Jewish mother; basically, she indicated she was not interested in a serious relationship at that time.
But we kept talking...then, my son had a short leave from the army for Pesach. On tom tov, we "took a walk", ostensibly to enjoy the beautiful spring weather...you should have seen how he rolled his eyes when he realized I just happened to be strolling towards our friends' house, where she was living. Basically it's like, "oh, eema, please stop trying to find me someone! I can find my own girlfriend!" (yeah, sure)
When he met her, he was pleasantly surprised. She was actually beautiful. And kind. And intelligent. And spiritual. Mygosh. My mother didn't pick out a jerk after all (why don't our kids ever trust us?)
They talked, saw each other in shul, and talked. We invited her to our house for the last days of the chag, and then our son had to return to the army. Shortly after, she also returned to Israel. For three months, he didn't hear from her, and we thought that was the end. And then she called (well, you wouldn't have called either if you were studying for your psychometri exam.) And as they say, the rest is history! Later on she remarked, now she understands why she had to be davka in our out-of-the-way town, of all places. It was mamash mi-shamayim...