Yesterday, Y went to a friend's house after school. Towards evening, she called to ask if she could sleep over. We agreed and wished her a good night.
A short while later, Y called again: she forgot that she had "sport"(gym) the next day and could we please bring her gym clothes and sneakers to school in the morning?
Moshe agreed to bring her the clothes, as long as I made sure they would be ready in the morning (he wasn't home yet, and wouldn't be able to do it himself). I was tired, but Y responsibly convinced me to get put them together right away, since I would be even more tired early in the morning. (It's tough when your daughter is more organized/responsible than her mom!)
I went to her room and, as she gave me instructions over the phone, gathered her things: a pair of sneakers from her shelf of shoes, a pair of green socks (since there were no orange ones in the drawer) and a pair of basketball shorts (down to the knees, even though she's in an all-girls school). I double checked that I had everthing she needed, placed them in a bag, put the bag near the door, triple checked, tied up the bag, and went to sleep.
In the morning, on our way to chemo, Moshe told me what Y discovered when she looked in the gym bag: Two different sneakers, from two different pairs!
How could that happen? I looked! I checked! I held them side by side! There was one left shoe & one right shoe! How could I not notice that the patterns didn't match!?
OK, so she would wear mismatched sneakers, that's not so bad, is it? Well, Moshe reported, it seems that one sneaker doesn't really fit her anymore... oh, no! I had doomed my daughter to teasing and a tortured foot! I failed!
But there was nothing to do and no time to do it! We were on our way to chemo and we couldn't turn back. Y would just have to manage...
After dinner, Y comes over to me with two sneakers in her hands. I look and see that the patterns are similar, but the size difference is significant.
"I'm really sorry", I say right away.
It's ok, says my forgiving teenager, we didn't have "sport" today anyway. (God is GOOD!!)
Then, as if that wasn't enough, she says: I really want to thank you for putting the clothes together for me. I know other girls in my class would just call their parents and tell them to bring the stuff for them; but I knew you wouldn't like being talked to that way, since you have your own things to do. And I really appreciate that you stopped what you were doing and took the time to put everything together for me.
I mess up and she's thanking me??
I put my hand to her cheek, looked her straight in the eyes and told her how much I love her and how lucky I feel to have her as my daughter.
May God grant her children just like her!
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,