Spoken Unspoken

I remember sitting at my first Kallah class thinking to myself, "what is she going to tell me that I don't already know?"

I mean seriously, I was far from the first of my crowd to marry, among the last to be precise, I'm not naive in the slightest, there are books - I know how to read... but I was a Kallah, so soon after I got engaged I wrote the check, signed up for the class and braced myself.

I think that the biggest shock of my entire kallah class was listening to my kallah teacher, a very very frum - and looks the part - lady speak. She had a very practical, straightforward way of presenting things. She didn't beat around the bush, she didn't smile and say "you're chosson will know" and yet every single one of her classes were given within the very strict boundaries of tznius, never once crossing the line.

The second eye opener can be explained in one word: ME

Yes, I may have read books, but this wasn't about a book, this was about me. I've walked by the local mikveh dozens of times, but now I wouldn't merely be walking by I would be walking in. Strange, the whole thing, just strange. And life changing.

Now a message to my single friends:

Hopefully one day in the very near future you too will be able to partake in this mitzvah. However, until then, please hear me out, and hopefully in the zchus of your sensitivity you will be rewarded for helping others with a beautiful, yet sometimes challenging and difficult mitzvah.

I suppose one of the many adjustments to taking on a new mitzvah is timing. Up until this point in my life the word "sh'kiah" meant two things: hadlakas haneiros and mincha. Now it means a third, Taharas Hamishpacha.

Sometimes, dear friends, your married friend might not be able to make it to that shiur, or speaker or whatever else it is. It's not because she doesn't care, nor because she's cooking chicken for supper, though she might say so. It might very well be because she needs to be home at that time and she doesn't want to say because it's no one's business.

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine invited me to a shabbos shiur. I didn't want to miss it, so I figured if I go on time I can stay for 45 minutes and still make it home before sh'kiah. About 15 minutes after I arrived, another girl announced "I can only stay another 10 minutes or so, I can't leave my baby for so long." Sure enough, 10 minutes later she excused herself and left. No one blinked. 20 minutes later, I excused myself and left, however, when I stood up to leave the response was "Miss Teacher, your baby is crying?" The host was obviously upset that her shiur wasn't important enough to me to stay the whole time. I quipped back something like "Yeah my baby's hungry, gotta go feed him," and hurried out.

I contemplated the idea of being more abrupt. Maybe that would calm people down a little bit. How about, "it's your shabbos kallah this week? What time? I'm so sorry I won't be able to make it, you see I hope to do a hefsek tahara this shabbos. Or I might leave the shiur a bit early/come a bit late because I have to a bedika. Or I'm so sorry I only came to a few minutes of your vort, it was my mikveh night. Maybe then people would be a bit more understanding.

The bottom line is. Don't let your imagination run wild, it's not your business what your friend is doing and why she can't attend a particular event. Do use sensitivity and understanding when your friend doesn't show up or has to leave early etc. ESPECIALLY when she's newly married and everything is still new, unfamiliar, unsettling and at times nerve wracking.