WAS IT JUST A DREAM ?

This is a collection of Nineteen modern day Jewish Fiction Stories written and published by Dr. Ruth Benjamin. Most of these have, over the years, been published in either the Jewish Homemaker in New York, or in the Concord Magazine, London.

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ISBN-13: 978-1475023282 (CreateSpace-Assigned)
ISBN-10: 1475023286
BISAC: Fiction / Jewish    234 pages

Before I list the 19 titles I will give here in full, one of the stories, number 16, in fact. Between the lines of the story are illustrations and original titles of some of the other 18 stories.

I give it in full because to give less than that would not be fair. to my readers.

 

 CHAD

 A Story by  Ruth Benjamin 

          Tzippora made patterns on the chocolate icing on the cake and stood back to admire it. Yes, it looked good. She would wait until it was completely dry and then 'hide' it from the family until she was ready to serve it. Not that anyone would really think of actually cutting themselves a slice of a complete cake, but she had all too often found small thumb and finger marks where a blob of icing had been sampled.

            She changed the settings on the stove. The pie had baked enough at such a strong heat. Now it was ready for..

             She was startled by the ringing of the telephone, wondering why it sounded so shrill until she remembered that she had put up the volume so that she could hear it above her cake mixer.

            She lifted the receiver, telling herself that before Pesach she would definitely have to do something about the flour that seemed to have ingrained itself into its cracks.

            There was a lot of interference on the line and she soon realised that the man's voice on the

phone, which she did not recognise, was speaking from a car moving at high speed, obviously on a cellular phone.

            "Hello Edna", he said. "Please would you do something for me and pick up Chad. I am going away for a few days and he needs to stay somewhere. You pick him up at 4 at the Ebenezer children's Centre..."

           "Excuse me...you have the wrong number", she began. This number is.."

            But the man seemed not to be able to hear her. "I am sorry, Edna, but the line is so bad. But please don't forget to do this for me. He can be every day at the crèche."

           "You have the wrong number", she tried to shout.

          "His mother, you know," he continued, "yes, my ex wife. I hope..."  With that the sound seemed to fade into......silence..

           Just a wrong number, she thought as she went into the kitchen. Soon she was concentrating on the rest of her baking.

But what was nagging at her consciousness. What was worrying her.

That had been a wrong number, hadn't it. She was not Edna.

            She glanced at the clock. It was almost 3 p.m. Her children would be home soon. She would have to hurry with what she was doing.

But what was tugging at her mind.?

.Chad that is what it was . Who would pick up Chad? Who was Chad? Whoever he was he was a child who would be waiting outside a children’s centre for a father who would be away for at least two days. She dried her hands and looked through the telephone directory for the Ebenezer Centre.

 "Mommy, who is Chad?" asked Shifra, her eight-year-old daughter who was accompanying her in the car. "Is he Jewish? How old is he? Do we know him?"

            "I am sure he is not Jewish", said his mother. "He is not Jewish because the Ebenezer Centre is not a Jewish place and I have no idea how old he is or who he is. I told you about the phone call."

         

    It was already 4-15. The Centre had been quite far away and she had not been able to get them on the phone. 

       A young woman was standing by the door looking this way and that and next to her was a small child, possibly around two. She stopped the car and the young woman went to the window.

        "You have come for Chad?" she asked. "You are a bit late, you know. We like the children fetched on time. But I suppose it is a little different

with Mrs. Gatfield in the Garden City Hospital and everything. Give her our best wishes," she said almost bundling the child into the car and rushing off to whatever appointment she was late for.

             

  "Chad, come Chad," said Shifra holding out her arms to the child. He had a mass of dark curls and large blue eyes and his nose was pouring. "Mum, do we have tissues anywhere?"

          Absentmindedly her mother handed her the tissues  "Garden City," she was saying turning the car in the direction of the Hospital. Well we will ask the mother who we should take the child to.”

          But when she gave the name in at the reception desk she was directed to the major injuries unit and she soon realised that the

young woman, Mrs Miriam Gatfield, had had a very serious car accident and was hovering unconscious between life and death.

           She said a few Tehillim beside her bed and then went to speak to the nurse to find out more details.

          "She was brought in late this morning. We almost thought we had lost her but she has managed to survive for this long. She didn't have much identification except for her name and address and the name and phone number of her ex husband.

We managed to contact him at home. He was very concerned especially for his young son who was in crèche.

          He said that he had to be away for a couple of days on an important business matter and would get a friend of his to fetch the child from crèche and look after him for a few days. Are you that person?

       

"No. well, yes" she said, going on to explain the whole story.

         "We are taking him home" said Tzippora, wondering what on earth her husband would say about an extra child in the home.

          Shifra looked delighted. "He really likes me, Mom. He has fallen asleep on my lap. But I don't think he is well. He is very very hot and he is coughing a lot.

           For four days, Chad stayed with them. With the help of the family doctor he was much better and he seemed to have taken to their home like a duck to water. The children loved him and seemed delighted to have him. Tzippora had to stop them teaching him brochas, though. Remember, he was not a Jewish child.

             Every day Tzippora visited the Hospital. Marion Gatfield, though improving, remained unconscious.

Every day, even twice a day, Tzippora's husband Yaakov phoned Mr. Gatfield's number, to no avail. He wondered if Edna would have looked after the child as they had.

         On the fifth day, Marion opened her eyes. At first she was confused as to her surroundings but the nurse, constantly on duty, told her what had happened and that slowly, slowly she would be getting better.

           Suddenly her eyes grew wide and frightened and she burst into tears. "My baby, she sobbed. "What has happened to my baby? My Chad. He has been in the Ebenezer crèche. It is only a day centre. I ..I"

          Quietly the nurse handed her the card with Yaakov and Tzippora's address and phone number.  "They have Chad" she said. "They have been looking after them"

           "But from where? Who found them?" She was sobbing freely now. "When are they coming , I must speak to them"

            "Oh here they are right now," said the nurse turning to the couple who had just walked into the ward. But Marion was staring at them her face turning a ghastly white.

             "Chad is fine", said Tzippora reassuring her. He still has a bit of a cold but he is so so much better. We will bring him to you.

          "Thank you", said Marion. "How did he get to you?"

            Tzippora told her the whole story, realising that Marion had dissolved into tears.

             She continued "We call it Hashgocha....." 

             "Protis.." said Marion.

             "You are Jewish?" asked Yakov. "I thought Gatfield.."

              Amidst tears the story emerged. Miriam had been brought up in a frum family but had somehow rebelled and six years ago had run away with a non-Jew. Recently they had divorced leaving her alone with her two-year-old son. She had never seen her parents since. Their names?  Yes, she would give the names. They were in Florida, far away. Perhaps one day they would forgive her even for the sake of their grandchild they had never seen, never knew existed. She cried, saying how much she longed once more to live the life of a Jewish woman.

            As they arrived home and greeted Chad with a hug and a message that his mother would be well, Yakov shut the door of his study. He had an important phone call to make.

          Several hours later he left for the Airport to fetch two overjoyed and crying parents who had left their home without delay to meet their grandson and reunite with their daughter.

           As they held Chad in their arms and covered him with kisses they asked again how this miracle had occurred.

          

"Hashgocha Protis", said Yakov. "Hashgocha Protis just from a wrong number on a cellular phone."

JEWISH STORIES                         

INDEX

         The Neighbour

         Guest for the Seder

         My Very Extra Special Son
    
         Spread the Miracle Outwards

    Mrs. Burris

    Who has Influenced my Child?

    A Second Chance

    David’s Strange Behaviour

          When Will Things Change? 

   

          I Don’t Feel I Belong Here

          The Debt

          Was it Just a Dream?
    
          One Turn Towards HaShem

     Real Festive Lights

      A Very Special Barmitzvah

           Chad

           Making Up

     

     Sholoch Monos finds a Jewish Soul

     The House on the  Hill