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Turning Tides

As told to Leah Gebber

I could hear voices in the dining room: my husband’s mellow tones and a different voice that jumped from loud to soft and back again, punctuated by gentle laughter, which then morphed into a tone of insistence. Who was it, I wondered.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

I was a little disgruntled when I knocked lightly on the dining room door to ask my husband for a hand in somehow shooing these little people into bed. Daniel was sitting at the table with a distinguished looking rav, black frock coat, full brown beard with wisps of gray. The rav had taken off his hat and had laid it carefully on the table. My husband and this rav were bent over a large tome I couldn’t identify from where I stood.Daniel looked up when I walked in. “Everything okay?” “I just wanted help with putting the kids to bed. I didn’t know you were busy.” I took a step into the room, intrigued.Daniel usually gave collectors a donation and they went on their way; he wasn’t in the habit of learning with them. The rabbi looked up at me and gave a polite nod. “What are you learning?” I asked. The rabbi dismissed my question: “It’s not something you’d be familiar with. These are legalistic texts. Not for women.” I withdrew from the room, but inside I boiled. Granted, the rabbi wouldn’t and couldn’t know I was a respected lawyer, specializing in wills, trusts, and inheritance law. 

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