Editor’s note: Welcome
to the second installment of our new column, “Dating Perspectives.” The column
will feature various shadchanim
writing about any aspect of shidduchim that
they feel strongly about. We also
invite others to write – whether parents, singles, rebbeim, or teachers. If you
have an opinion or a story – here’s your chance to get it out there. Contact us
at adswww@aol.com.
Just this week, a good friend and fellow shadchan was bemoaning the
fact that people do not consider paying shadchanus important and that something needs to be done about
it. She then shared with me that The Shidduch Center of Baltimore was
actually in the midst of addressing this very issue and would be
publishing guidelines for the community soon. Honestly, I have always had mixed
feelings about this. Don’t get me wrong, I do feel that a shadchan should be paid for his or her services, but I have had
many different experiences with this over the last 40 years of people being
incredibly, embarrassingly generous and those who simply forgot or didn’t think
they had any reason to pay me.
In truth, I know that paying shadchanus is a halachic obligation,*
and it was Rabbi Kulefsky, zt”l, who
told me that it was “the most honest money a person can make.” What I
found out the hard way was that it also matters how the shadchan accepts and appreciates the shadchanus. Let me share with you two stories that literarily
shook me and changed my perspective.
Swan or Ugly
Duckling?
My very first shidduch happened 40 years ago. I was just married, living in
Cherry Hill, New Jersey, and running the local NCSY
group. Through this work, I met many young men and women who served as
advisors – or maybe you could call them counselors – at the various events
and Shabbatons we ran. I had this very strong feeling that one of the
young girls and one of the young men would be a match. This was before
resumes and bios and photos. You could actually go over to the guy
and say, “I think I have a nice idea for you. Call this girl and ask her
out.”
Outrageous! Crazy! No checking? No
FBI phone calls? How could it be? Well, it was. And frankly, there was no shidduch crisis then. Hundreds
of shidduchim occurred this
way and produced generations of frum
families…but I digress.
This couple went out, got engaged, and got
married. The girl’s mother bought me a beautiful (and, at that time,
expensive) Lenox swan as a gift. I was a young married girl with no place
or need for such a gift. I thanked her, but in my heart, I thought, “What
a stupid gift.” I carelessly placed this fragile gift on my coffee table,
where my two-year-old son liked to play. Of course, it didn’t take long for him
to break it. I felt bad for about two seconds and threw the pieces
away. Fourteen years later, this couple got
divorced. Coincidence? Maybe. But it threw me for a loop and
gave me an awful pang of guilt.
A Silver Lining
Story number two: Many years and many shidduchim later, I matched a
couple where it took a lot of convincing for the girl’s mother to accept the
match. Once they were engaged, however, the mother was thrilled and to
this day blesses me for her wonderful son-in-law. The mother was the type
who felt that money was not a personal enough thank you and bought me a very
expensive gift. Again, even though I was older, I certainly was not wiser and
did not appreciate this gift. I wondered why the mother didn’t just give me
cash. What was I going to do with this ostentatious piece of silver in my small
house? I certainly wasn’t going to display it! So, I kept it in its box, shoved
it into the back of a cabinet, and forgot about it. Three years went by,
and I bumped into the couple. I found out that they didn’t have any
children. I came home and tried not to think about it. I am not the
superstitious type. In fact, most people would call me cynical. But…what
if? Who knows? I couldn’t sleep. I searched my cabinets and found the
box. I took out the gift, and truly it was very beautiful. I made a space
in my breakfront and placed it there. Now, I know you won’t believe me,
but it’s the truth. Three months later, almost to the day that I
“appreciated” the gift, the girl called me to tell me her exciting news: she
was expecting, b’sha’a tova. Today,
this couple is blessed with six children and two grandchildren, so far, bli ayin hara.
Partners
I have more stories, but these are the
two that always resonate with me. But why share them? I suppose to make a
point. Shidduchim are hard.
Making a shidduch is
hard. Sometimes things go smoothly, and sometimes it is rough
going. The shadchan works hard
for you and, more times than not, for no pay at all, just out of the goodness
of her heart. She takes your calls and meets with your children and networks
and networks and networks. You have no idea what she is doing until you
get the call with a yes. It’s important to be appreciative – and not only
when the shidduch works. It is
appreciated when you send a note, a box of candy, or a gift card.
But over the years, I have also learned
a valuable lesson: that I need to appreciate the gift with a full heart. I need
to remember that I am only a shaliach, and
that Hashem truly makes the shidduch. I
need to remember that I get it wrong so many more times than I get it right. I
need to remember that it’s not personal when the shidduch I have worked on for weeks is rejected by one side before
it’s even given a chance. I have to respect and value the parents’ opinions and
thoughts – after all, it is their children, not mine.
The shadchan
and the parents need to be partners: partners who trust each other and work
together. The shadchan has to
understand the pain and fear of parents sitting by a phone that doesn’t ring.
And the parents have to understand that the shadchan
is trying to help them even when the phone is not ringing. Perhaps if we can
all learn to do this, we will be zocheh
to many, many successful and happy shidduchim.
* As with any
other business transaction, a shadchan must be paid a fee for arranging a
shidduch (see Rama Choshen
Mishpat 185
