Sometimes, we are worthy. Sometimes, we see two random events and never know why they occurred. Other times, we witness two seemingly isolated incidents and watch how they intertwine and come together. We recognize that Hashem placed us in that spot, that office, that street, that city – all for a reason. It is then that we have a renewed appreciation of hashgachah pratis, and we marvel in awe and gratitude at how the Creator runs His world using us as his messengers.
The following story was written by a man who sees hashgachah everywhere he goes. No conversation is for naught, and no random meeting is actually random. In his unique manner, he recalls the following story:
One fine day in the early 1990s, I received a call at my place of business from my mother. This was not unusual. I was her only available child living nearby in her neighborhood, and I considered it a z’chus to always be at her service when she called.
In her younger days, my mother was a whiz at baking. My siblings and I can attest to her prowess – just one look at us is all you need! She called me that day because she ran out of vanilla sugar while preparing a cake for the oven, and she needed it posthaste. Unfortunately, I got bogged down at the office and wasn’t able to run as quickly as she would have liked to get her what she needed. To my chagrin, I showed up at her door about 45 minutes later – vanilla sugar in hand.
Suffice it to say, she was not very happy with me. In all earnestness, she began explaining to me how her cake is sure to flop, and it’s all because she had no choice but to wait for me to show up 45 minutes late with the necessary ingredient. Just then, her house phone rang and, thinking I was saved by the bell, I waved goodbye and headed for the door. But she was not done with me yet. Oh, no, not by a long shot, and she quickly called out to me to have a seat.
Well, of course, I did as an obedient son would, and I sat down in the kitchen. I couldn’t help but listen to her side of the conversation, and I quickly realized that it was a boy on the other end who had, the night before, gone out on a date that my mother had suggested. He was calling to say thank you, but unfortunately it didn’t work out. He explained that the girl was not for him as he was of slight stature, and she was rather broad. He felt intimidated. A few more minutes listening closely to the call, and I was able to figure out who the “players” were. I knew them both. When she hung up, my mother and I chatted for several more minutes about various topics, and then I apologized profusely for my tardiness and was on my way.
Next stop, a client’s office. I work in an industry that necessitates face-to-face meetings, and I had this appointment scheduled for some time. No sooner did I sit down opposite my client, than his secretary buzzed his intercom.
“Your nephew is on line two,” she said in a clipped voice. The man apologized for a second and asked me to allow him to take the call. Of course, I acquiesced. He picked up the receiver and immediately began consoling the person – his nephew – on the other line. It seems that after dating the same girl for a long time, and finally making up his mind that she was “the one,” he was unceremoniously “dumped” the previous evening. The boy sounded devastated.
My client consoled him for a few minutes, telling him it was bashert. “Look, there are two things you don’t run after: girls and trains. There’s always another one coming!” He ended the call, then looked straight at me and asked if I could think of someone for his nephew. I said, “Well, I don’t know the first thing about your nephew! How can I redt him a shidduch?”
He replied with a large and almost desperate sigh, “What can I tell you? He’s a big guy!”
So blatantly obvious was it to me that I was meant to eavesdrop on these two phone calls, one right after the other, that I immediately responded, “YES! I have someone for him!” Right then and there, I gave him the information about the “broad” girl from my mother’s conversation, and he set up the shidduch. The two went out later that week.
What can I say? Baruch Hashem, they are now happily married with four adorable kinderlach, bli ayin ha’ra.
We know without a doubt that it’s there; but sometimes, we are worthy to truly see the Yad Hashem!
P.S. Of course, I called Mom and said, “Imagine if I had brought you your vanilla sugar on time!”