Nisayon?

"Everyone has their nisyanos," she said spontaneously, deciding I need comfort. 

"I'm not complaining," I respond. 

She chose not to hear me, repeating her line over and over while I continued to protest, "I'm not complaining."

This woman, I know, happens to have her own tests. But she seems all to eager to imagine me soaking my pillow in unrequited tears.

True, cheerful optimism wasn't always my tactic. A few years ago, I would find myself stomping home from work, angry at the world, accusing every acquaintance for my single state.

It's their fault, I thought. They aren't redting me. (Never mind that even if I was redt and the guy said no, I wouldn't even know). 

Then, one day, I had an epiphany. 

Being a religious Jew does not mean that just because I want something NOW means I'm supposed to get it. I'm a grandchild of survivors, for pity's sake. This sort of mindset it not only irreligious, it is ungrateful, one of the most heinous crimes of the ancient world, not just of Judaism. 

Rabbi Yisroel Reisman said once that everyone has trials, in any of these categories: parnossah, health, religious children, and shidduchim. 

I'll take this, I thought.  

So now I walk home with a bounce in my step, inhaling the clean, crisp, cool air, admiring the old, majestic trees, the bright blue sky, thankful that I can appreciate beautiful days with health and joy.