Basya Tsybukmakher
The Almighty blessed my wife and me with a home full of children’s laughter. Watching our wonderful boys and girls, seeing them grow up, rejoicing in their successes, large and small—what more could anyone dream of? Of course, having many children also meant many expenses for us, but we were prepared for that and, over the years, learned to keep our finances under control. Moreover, while preparing for our eldest son’s bar mitzvah, my wife and I had already begun thinking about how to provide all our children with a respectable dowry. I began making inquiries and consulting knowledgeable people, and gradually a more or less clear plan emerged: we decided to join the ranks of property owners. We decided to buy a suitable house, divide it into several apartments, rent each one out separately, and earn an income.
Shekel by shekel, our savings grew, and we decided to use the entire amount we had saved for the down payment. We could make up the shortfall with a mortgage, and we hoped to repay it from our tenants’ rent payments.
Whenever I was going to buy anything more substantial than groceries for Shabbat—for example, a new washing machine—I planned the purchase thoroughly: I gathered information, compared models, and checked prices in several stores… And of course, when the prospect of buying a house arose—even if it was only a small house in the suburbs—I certainly had no intention of acting blindly. I studied the market in the finest detail, consulted many real estate experts, and read a great deal on the subject. I certainly did not want my hard-earned savings to go down the drain.
With G-d’s help, I was offered a good deal: a fairly spacious house in an up-and-coming city with a growing community, at a price that suited me very well. The house had been on the market for quite some time, but because the initial price was high, potential buyers were nowhere to be found. The sellers urgently needed to make a payment on their new home and began gradually lowering the price. By the time the house caught my eye, its price could have been described as “Any cheaper, and it would be free.”
Attractive as the deal was, after calculating all our finances, my wife and I saw that we could not possibly carry out our plan on our own. I offered a partnership to a friend from kollel—he was in roughly the same position as I was—and he promised to think it over. This meant that he, in turn, would consult experts, ask friends for advice, and study the real estate market. In any event, a week later my friend agreed—he, too, had been told that this purchase would be an excellent investment and should, in time, provide a steady income for a growing family.
As I have already said, buying anything costing more than a few hundred shekels was always a major event for me. You can imagine how excited we were as we drove to the lawyer’s office to sign the contract! Buying a house was more than a major event—it was something entirely unique in our family’s life, and I was so nervous that I even felt a little dizzy. No wonder—the house would take all our savings, and we were also committing ourselves to loan obligations for many years. I was somewhat reassured by the fact that I was splitting the expenses equally with my friend, and even the thought that we would also split the profits equally could not diminish my joy.
Having completed the legal formalities, we moved on to the practical work. After considering the possible options, we decided to divide the house into two separate apartments—as the building had originally been designed, before the most recent owners decided to combine the apartments. Moreover, from a property owner’s perspective, this was more profitable: renting out two separate apartments meant earning a third more profit!
I decided to turn to my brother about the architectural question. He knew a great deal about architecture and construction and lived in the town where we had bought the house. I simply asked him to find time to look at the house so that he could give me expert advice on the best way to divide it. I knew I had turned to the right person when my brother called with good news: we would not need to hire an expensive architect and designer for the construction. Instead, we could hire independent builders, who would do an excellent job, and this, in turn, would reduce our renovation costs by at least a third. Summer vacation was approaching, and we decided not to waste time and to finish the renovation in a month and a half, on the condition that my brother would be the chief foreman.
“Many are the thoughts in a man’s heart…,” but life does not always unfold as we plan. After two days of work, my brother told me that he had been slightly mistaken in his calculations. The pipes in the house had rotted, and to replace them, we would have to replace the floors and part of the walls as well. “I can see that the renovation costs keep growing, and what’s more, it is taking more of my time—much more than I was initially willing to devote to this project,” my brother said during the very first week of construction. “You can’t afford to pay me for such complicated work.” In effect, this was his outright declaration that he was quitting and leaving us to deal with all the construction.
We did not have much time to think, and we had to take matters into our own hands. Soon we were up to our necks in floorboards, insulation materials, stone cladding, and wiring. Money was being spent much faster than we had expected. Since we had no choice, we decided to put all our energy and resources into keeping the work going without a single day’s interruption and completing it on time.
At last, with G-d’s help, the day came when everything was ready: the walls were up, the pipes did not leak, and the electricity worked. We invited a real estate expert to look at our renovation and assess how much rent we could charge for the apartments. Given his years of experience in the market, we could not help being delighted by his conclusion that our deal had been very profitable, and the rent he suggested we charge for the apartments was entirely in line with our expectations. As he left, he assured us that the neighborhood was increasingly in demand and that he did not think the apartments would stand empty for even a single day. You can imagine what wonderful music his words were to our ears after all the twists and turns of the renovation and remodeling. We were sure that the apartments would go like hotcakes and that all our difficulties were behind us.
Within the first few days, we signed a contract. The family moving into the apartment seemed reliable, sincere, and honest, and we were sure that people like them would make excellent tenants. But our joy was premature: taking advantage of imprecise wording in the contract, the tenants who had seemed so reliable moved out, leaving us with a pile of unpaid bills and very little chance of recovering the money from them. Our contract turned out to be a worthless piece of paper.
While this was happening with the first apartment, we reassured ourselves that at least the second apartment would bring us a steady income, which would help us make our loan payments. But disappointment awaited us here as well. We decided that new immigrants certainly would not cheat us. But we were wrong again. The tenants whom we had thought inexperienced took advantage of our own inexperience. They had no intention of paying!
These were days of severe trials. An empty apartment seemed a stroke of luck compared with one occupied by people who brazenly refused to pay rent and would not agree to move out. We rushed between lawyers, real estate agents, and local gemachs, signing IOUs for one new loan after another, which we needed to make our loan payments to the bank.
What does any observant Jew do when misfortune strikes? We began paying particular attention to cheshbon hanefesh: we reflected on our actions, looked for every opportunity to improve ourselves, devoted more time to Torah study, worked on ourselves, and tried to give more tzedakah. We tried not to miss any opportunity to find favor before the Creator…
Weeks passed, then months. Summer was drawing to a close, and we stood on the threshold of the Days of Judgment. One day, in the middle of the month of Elul, I was engaged in the self-examination that had become customary for me lately, recalling the events of the past year and our financial collapse. Suddenly, an entirely new thought occurred to me—perhaps we should have paid my brother for the two full days he had worked on our house during vacation! Perhaps he harbored resentment against us, and that was why we could not merit a blessing!
I immediately called my friend, with whom I had spent so long trying to solve the mystery, and shared my thoughts. But he immediately objected: “It seems you’ve forgotten how you gave your brother an expensive gift right after he left the project?” “Of course I remember,” I replied. “I can even tell you which gemach I borrowed the money from to buy that gift.” But my friend was indeed surprised by my suggestion: “Do you really think he’s harboring resentment against us?” “To be honest, no, it doesn’t seem that way. Our relationship hasn’t deteriorated at all, and we have danced together at weddings many times since then. Besides, I haven’t heard anything bad from him or anyone else.”
I knew that what I was saying was entirely illogical, but can the Creator’s plan be understood through logic? Daily cheshbon hanefesh had taught me to trust my feelings, and at that moment I was almost certain that my self-examination was helping me move in the right direction toward removing the cause of all our failures. I continued to insist: “Remember,” I said to my friend, “how much money we’ve lost over the past six months! And that doesn’t include advertisements, travel expenses, lawyers’ fees, and loan payments!” “…Not to mention the loss of our priceless time and all the strain on our nerves!” my friend added in agreement.
My brother was astonished when I appeared at his home with such an unexpected proposal. “So that’s what you think of me! That I’m harboring a grudge?” He smiled at my protest and flatly refused to accept the envelope containing his wages for two days’ work. But I was no less adamant, and as I looked more closely into his eyes, I saw that his refusal merely concealed an inner discomfort. It seemed to me that he himself thought he was owed money for the work. He had expected payment and was subconsciously disappointed, above all in us, because we had, in effect, failed to meet his expectations.
“Take the money and use it for something good,” I said. “We decided this was the right thing to do, without even discussing it. Please don’t even think about refusing!” I decided to leave it at that. Actually, I wanted to remind him that there is no mitzvah to harbor resentment or disappointment. It would have been much easier for my partner and me if my brother had clarified the situation and stated his position right away. How unfortunate that we had been in the dark all that time!
It sounds like a miracle, but in the very same week that I paid my brother for his work, we managed to sign a profitable long-term contract for the empty apartment! And a week later, we learned that the squatters in our second apartment had decided to stop causing us misery and move out, so we could rent that one out too. We constantly had to remind ourselves that everything happening to us was not a dream, but a wonderful reality. We did not limit ourselves to the minimum required by law, but decided to go further in our efforts to establish peace and love. The obstacle had been removed, and the reward was not long in coming, measure for measure, from the great and generous hand of the Almighty.
Translation by A. Shvalb.
The English version of this story was kindly provided by Mishmeret HaShalom, an organization whose work is devoted to the study of mitzvot relating to purity of speech and relationships between people.