The Matchmaker's Gift(33)



“She followed us here!”

“What disrespect!”

“See how she spies on us like a thief!”

Sara took a single step back from the railing, but she did not cry or look away. “I am not a thief,” she said. “And I am not spying on any of you. In fact, judging from your accusations, it is all of you who have been spying on me. I came here today because you wanted to talk to me.”

For a moment, there was absolute quiet. But then the men began shouting again.

“An unmarried woman cannot make matches!”

“In mocking our calling, you mock God!”

Rabbi Sheinkopf clapped his hands for silence. “Stop! All of you! Stop at once! You’re talking to a sixteen-year-old girl!”

“If she is old enough to defile our customs, she is old enough to answer for her misconduct!”

Though the air in the synagogue was cold, Sara could feel the sweat pouring down her back. She was grateful that the men could not hear her heart pounding. There were so many of them, and they were so angry.

“I have no contract with Mr. Raskin,” she said. “I became friendly with Ida when I worked at his store. Both Mr. Raskin and Ida have been very kind to me, as has Dr. Lipovsky, my dentist. As Rabbi Sheinkopf knows, after my father passed away, our family was thrown into terrible debt. Dr. Lipovsky is a good-hearted man and agreed to examine my tooth for free. All he asked was that I make introductions in order to spread word of his dental practice. That was my aim on Yom Kippur morning when I introduced him to the Raskin family.”

“Then how do you explain Raskin’s visit to your home so soon after his daughter’s engagement?”

Rabbi Sheinkopf interrupted. “I informed Raskin of the family’s troubles. The man is a pillar of our community, and I trusted him to act charitably on the Glikmans’ behalf. As I’m sure you know from your incessant snooping, Raskin brought the family a basket of food. Are you such a pack of animals that you would deny them that charity?”

Most of the men were shamed into silence, though there were still a few murmurs and grumblings from the crowd. “Enough!” Rabbi Sheinkopf told the men. “Sara has explained herself and so have I. There is no reason for you to harass her further. Now I am going to escort her home.”

Once the shadchanim were behind them, Sara’s eyes welled up with tears.

“I didn’t think that those men could scare me, but when I saw them from the balcony, all glaring up at me … I confess that I was very afraid.”

Rabbi Sheinkopf patted her arm. “You have nothing to fear,” he said. “They are more afraid of you than you are of them.”

“But why?”

The rabbi sighed. “Life in this country is not what they expected. They are trying to hold on to their traditions, but it is more difficult than they ever imagined. The whole world is changing, and they cannot keep up. Their vocation, their livelihood, their very way of life—bit by bit, it disappears. To be a shadchan was a sacred calling; to make marriages was to do the work of God. But now, the shadchanim are the subject of derision. The newspapers mock them; they are ridiculed and disparaged. They are painted as mercenaries, as offensive and un-American. They are afraid of you because you are everything they are not. You are young and female and you have a gift. You do not negotiate price or terms. You suggest matches because you are compelled to do so, not because anyone has hired you. You make an introduction and let the rest play out, without force, interference, or manipulation. Young people today want to marry for love, and that is what your gift helps them to find.”

“Still, I should not have lied to those men,” Sara said. “I’m afraid I forced you to lie as well.”

“Neither of us said anything that was untrue.”

“Perhaps, but there is more to the story. My helping Ida did not come about by chance. And there is no question that I benefited from her engagement.”

“Moishe Raskin is a particularly kindhearted man—that is why I introduced you to him in the first place. Even if you had told him you would accept nothing for your help, he would have found a way to repay the good deed you have done. The man has free will. He will do as he likes. And if he chooses to be generous with you and your family, there is nothing either one of us can do to stop him.”

“But what will happen in June when Ida marries? She’s already told me her father wants the wedding to be the biggest event the neighborhood has ever seen. Reporters are already calling on her. There will be stories printed in every newspaper in the city. Even if the shadchanim let this go for now, in June they will be reminded all over again.”

“Moishe is a very influential man. He has friends everywhere in the city, including at the newspapers. Perhaps there is a way to put the shadchanim off. I will speak with Moishe tomorrow. Between the two of us, we will come up with something.”





EIGHT

ABBY




1994




Dinner with Victor and Nicole took place two days later at Victor’s apartment on Madison Avenue. Twelve years ago, he had bought a decaying Neo-Renaissance mansion on the corner of Madison and Seventy-Fourth Street. For two years, he’d renovated the fa?ade and the interior—power washing the stone colonnettes, fixing the broken entablatures, refinishing the slate roof, and fitting the interior with new hand-carved moldings. Once restored to its former glory, the étoile New York flagship store was set up inside, with the top floor reserved for Victor’s personal residence.

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