Lunchtime Lessons
Esty’s Story as told to Sara Klarberg
“I was born ready,” I told my mother when she asked if I was ready to leave for school. That’s my favorite line and a family joke, because my idea of ready is quite different from my mother’s.
On this particular morning, she was about to walk out the door and drive us to school. And I was also going to walk out the door… as soon as I finished making my iced coffee, getting my notes into my binder, and fixing my hair.
Packing food for the day dropped off my to-do list. I had my coffee. I’d be fine. Or so I thought. When lunchtime rolled around, I was hungry.
There was no way I was calling home for food. My mother would never go for that. She always reminded me to pack for the day.
Some days, girls ordered pizza and divided a pie, but no one was doing that today. So… I was still very hungry.I realized my two twelfth-grade friends were not in the building. Their class had just had a free period, and they went home.
Score! Maybe I could get some food from them. I called Sara—no answer. That was not going to help me. My last try was Batsheva. Maybe she’d be my savior. “Are you out?” I asked Batsheva when she picked up on the third ring. “I didn’t bring any food today, and I am starving.”
“I’m actually on my way back right now,” she replied. “And that’s so funny that you’re asking—I’m actually sitting with an extra slice of pizza in my car. My sister won a contest and had these pizza certificates, so I just went to the pizza shop to redeem them.”
Five minutes later, she pulled up with a delicious slice. As I munched the pizza, I thought about how many lessons there were in this moment.
First, Hashem had food prepared for me—I just had to ask. Like so many things in life, Hashem has unlimited goodness for us. We have to daven, ask for it, and recognize it’s from Hashem.
Second lesson: mothers know best. Always pack lunch.
Third lesson: sometimes we only see the messenger, and we forget it’s all Hashem. I am grateful to Batsheva and the pizza store, but they were just Hashem’s messengers bringing me the food.
This article was found in Nekuda Tova Issue 81.
