Join The Conversation With Mishpacha's Weekly Newsletter



Short Story: A Class Act

Tovy Breuer

From the vantage point of her bed, she could see the wind drive fallen snowflakes across the window, the barren branches of her maple tree, shivering in the icy cold. Heidi covered her mouth and coughed loud and long. She envisioned venturing out into that wind, pulling her green sweater taut around her neck. It had been a long time since she had braved the wind. Now she only lay in bed and moved the blanket up or down according to the weather.

Wednesday, February 09, 2011

Occasionally her children came to visit. Very rarely, her grandchildren appeared as well, holding plates of who-knows-what and talking in exaggerated cheery voices. She also had friends. Her friends came every Shabbos morning to catch up on the news. It was a tradition maintained from the past, when she would sit under the wide bough of her maple on the red painted bench and matching table. One by one, her friends would drop by, until the maple was overflowing with people and voices.

Her friends were still there for her. They called at night, when sleep didn’t come after a full day of catnaps. They came, laden with warm, silver-foiled dinners in the early evening. They knew they would find her in bed. Heidi was always in bed. During freezing cold, scorching heat, gentle breezes, or falling leaves. All the seasons bothered her, the way the world didn’t stop changing, but rushed about, sleeping in the winter, bursting with life in the spring, sun bathing in the warm summer, and then falling again to the autumn winds.

She didn’t used to be like this. When she was fifty, sixty, even seventy, she was a young woman. People said she was forever young. Now the tables had been sharply turned, the dance floor vacated for another crowd. She had crossed over the bridge, to live out her life among the old.

 

To read the rest of this story, please buy this issue of Mishpacha or sign up for a weekly subscription.

Share this page with a friend. Fill in the information below, and we'll email your friend a link to this page on your behalf.

Your name
Your email address
You friend's name
Your friend's email address
Please type the characters you see in the image into the box provided.
CAPTCHA
Message


MM217
 
The Fortunes of War
Rabbi Moshe Grylak We’re still feeling the fallout of the First World War
Some Lessons, But Few Portents
Yonoson Rosenblum What the midterms tell us about 2020
Vote of Confidence
Eyan Kobre Why I tuned in to the liberal radio station
5 out of 10
Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin Top 5 Moments of the Kinus
Day in the Life
Rachel Bachrach Chaim White of KC Kosher Co-op
When Less is More
Rabbi Ron Yitzchok Eisenman How a good edit enhances a manuscript
It’s My Job
Jacob L. Freedman “Will you force me to take meds?”
They’re Still Playing My Song?
Riki Goldstein Yitzy Bald’s Yerav Na
Yisroel Werdyger Can’t Stop Singing
Riki Goldstein Ahrele Samet’s Loi Luni
Double Chords of Hope
Riki Goldstein You never know how far your music can go
Will Dedi Have the Last Laugh?
Dovid N. Golding Dedi and Ding go way back
Battle of the Budge
Faigy Peritzman Using stubbornness to grow in ruchniyus
The Challenging Child
Sarah Chana Radcliffe Strategies for raising the difficult child
Bucking the Trend
Sara Eisemann If I skip sem, will I get a good shidduch?
The Musician: Part 1
D. Himy, M.S. CCC-SLP and Zivia Reischer "If she can't read she'll be handicapped for life!"