When Someone Else Gets Engaged: A Different Kind of Prayer

When a woman knows something, she knows it. Don’t argue with her. Woe to anyone who dismisses the depth of Jewish feminine intuition. Our sages already taught that women were given a particular gift: “A woman was given extra understanding.” That’s how we were created. It’s built in. What can we do? Tears come naturally to us, and that extra understanding rests within us. Now go on, boys, figure it out.

Understanding is something delicate and sacred. It is the ability to sense what lies between the lines, to notice the spaces between things and understand what is happening in the “in-between.” One thought leads to another through that understanding. We cannot live without it, and we cannot truly think without it.

So when I felt something deep in my kishkes that day, I knew.

This would be the prayer.

A Joy I Couldn’t Explain

Good friends of ours got their daughter, Inbal, engaged a few weeks ago. I have known Inbali for many years. She is the daughter of baalei teshuvah and a lovely baalat teshuvah in her own right, because every person born into this world eventually has that private moment when they decide what they choose, which book they belong to, and what Jewish story they will tell for generations to come.

At first, Inbal’s father called my husband to share the news of the engagement. My husband was deeply moved because Inbal is a righteous young woman who is very dear to us.

My husband said to her father, “Do me a favor. Call our home yourself. I know my wife will be happy to hear this news firsthand. I’m asking you, please make her happy.”

Let’s pause the story here for a moment. Because in retrospect, I really loved that. The fact that my husband, without me being there or having anything to do with it, knew exactly what would make me happy and even arranged a little behind-the-scenes maneuver to make it happen? That gave me such a sweet feeling of contentment.

When the phone rang and I heard about Yagel and Inbal’s match, I screamed with happiness.

I know, I know. We are supposed to be happy for everyone, to cheer on the whole world. And we, the Jewish people, are always working on our hearts and striving for unity. Of course, of course.

But we are still human beings. Sometimes we feel a little jealous. Sometimes something inside us tightens. Sometimes we find ourselves wondering, “Oy, oy, oy, when will it be my turn?”

But when Inbali’s father called, something entirely different passed through me. Hashem, help me describe it with Your kindness for just a moment. It was such an overwhelming joy of marriage and connection that I practically skipped through the streets of Bnei Brak that day.

And Then It Happened Again

A few days later, my daughter Maya told me about another match, this time from Ra’anana: Racheli and Netanel.

Once again, the same wave came over me. Endless, almost unimaginable joy.

I immediately called Avital, Racheli’s mother. I traveled all the way from Mitzpe Ramon to their engagement celebration because I could barely contain my desire to give thanks and embrace both mothers: Netanel’s mother, Nechami, whom I know from the Shabbat gatherings of the Nefesh Yehudi organization, and Racheli’s mother, Avital, whom I have known for years through the community and personally.

I looked up at the sky and asked the Creator of the universe, “What is this joy inside me?”

“How wonderful,” I thought. “I am used to feeling empathy, understanding others, and sharing in what they are going through. It is part of my DNA. But tell me, does it work the same way with tears of compassion and sorrow as it does with tears of building and joy?”

This Would Be My Prayer

And there, quietly, standing on the sidewalk, I asked Hashem for something.

Just as He saw how genuine my joy was for these couples, I asked Him to please bring that same joy into our home and bring us a bride as well.

But not just any bride.

The most wonderful one.

And perhaps that was the prayer I had been searching for all along: to rejoice wholeheartedly in someone else’s simcha, while quietly asking Hashem to bring that same joy home to us.