The Short Vort by Rabbi Eisenman

It was a warm day even for Beit Shemesh in the winter. All of the girls arrived at the Simcha Hall dressed for the Simcha.As soon as they arrived, they realized something was wrong.The air conditioning in the Shul broke that afternoon, and the family had no other option but to continue in the heat.Having forty 11 and 12-year-old girls crowded into a "too-small" Simcha room- without A/C was not a recipe for success.

The girls squirmed in their seats as the Bas Mitzvah girl delivered a well-thought-out Dvar Torah.The girls went straight for the drinks as soon as the speeches ended.As each girl grabbed another bottle of water, the mother of the Bar Mitzvah girl appeared distraught and dismayed.She went over to the mother of her daughter's best friend and confided in her."I am so upset. We had no choice as we could not find another hall. I feel so bad for my daughter. All she wanted at her Bas Mitzvah was Simcha-filled dancing.She looked forward to an evening when every girl in the class could dance together. And now, with this heat and everyone sweating, I am sure no one will want to dance.

"The other mother looked at the hostess and nodded, "I don't think we can expect the girls to dance in this heat. Maybe we can arrange another night next week just for dancing?"The Bas Mitzvah's girl's mother was not expecting that answer.She now was looking at the reality of a ruined Bas Mitzvah.She looked at Zehava* her daughter; she could see the tears begin to pool at the corners of her daughter's eyes.As the tears ran down her daughter's cheeks, she looked away so no one would see her own tears.Suddenly, the unexpected occurred.Huvi, a lively eleven-year-old, had overheard the conversation between the two women.

She immediately jumped to her feet and, with the determination that only an eleven-year-old can muster, grabbed the two girls sitting next to her and said, "Let's dance!"

Dance? Now? In this heat?

Yet, Huvi was not to be dissuaded.

"If the soldiers can fight for Klal Yisroel in much more dangerous conditions, we can dance in the heat!"

Her words were the perfect motivational speech.

Forty girls danced with enough Ruach to open Shaarei Shomyaim.

Yet, Huvi would not rest on her laurels.

Huvi grabbed the Bas Mitzvah girl, her mother, and then her grandmother.

She did not stop until the three generations of present and future matriarchs were dancing in the middle as all the girls danced around them.

The girls danced the night away, and even after the music stopped, Huvi ensured the dancing continued.

Finally, as the mothers arrived to bring their daughters home, Zehava approached Huvi.

"I cannot thank you enough. You saved my entire Bas Mitzvah.

Why did you do it? I mean, we're friends, but we are not BFFs?"

Huvi looked up at the girl and revealed her reason.

"Zehava, my father just finished 150 days of battling the enemies of the Jewish people.

He slept in his uniform and fought terrorists for twenty-four hours straight.

When I asked him, "Abba, what gave you the strength to fight on?" He looked at me and said, "When you can do for the Jewish people, you do it. And somehow and someway, Hashem will give you the Koach to do what you must do." That's why I danced my heart out tonight. I was following in my father's way."

As Zehava hugged Huvi and cried tears of gratitude, Huvi never felt better in her life.

She had received more than she gave.

And when a rabbi in Passaic who happens to be Huvi's grandfather heard the story from his son Tuvia, a feeling of true Yiddish Nachas enveloped him.