With the holidays upon us, we are reminded what makes this time of year so special; whether that’s our family, friends, or the wide selection of cheese balls at the store.

For me, it’s a combination of the above. However, I have found that like many others, I too, have lost sight of what the holidays are truly representative of.

For those of you that don’t me, my name is Rachael and I am the receptionist at Rahav Wellness. I recently moved to New York City from the rural plains of Ohio and my journey here has been everything you’d expect in a comedy sketch. 

Like every person who has had the courage to move to this city, I’ve experienced the expected ups and downs. However, I hit a particular low this past month.

I won’t trouble you with the gory details but I had an infestation of sorts due to a scummy landlord that left me apartment less the weekend my sister was visiting.

So you can only imagine the state of panic I was in. How am I supposed to show her my glamorous new life (all lows aside) if we don’t have anywhere to sleep? Rent an Air BnB or a hotel? Well, it’s not in my budget. Stay at friends? They either don’t have the room or they don’t feel comfortable taking me in because I have been labeled with the scarlet letters BB. 

All I can say is I’m at work, ten hours before my sister is supposed to land, distressed, and with no plan. My state of despair was not well hidden because my boss, Dr. Rahav,  approaches me and asks, “What’s wrong?”

With little hesitation, I frustratingly ramble through my predicament, when I finish she responds, “Just stay at my place.” I stand there. Not really sure what to say.

Why wouldn’t I jump at this offer?

Maybe it’s because during my short existence I have never heard of an employee staying with their boss. There could be many reasons for this.

Some high possibilities would be that all the ones I had before would have never been kind enough to offer or it’s not a practiced custom in America. Either way, I was desperate so I replied with a cool, “Sure.”

However, as the day went on my rampant thoughts began to prevail and I was now in a new state of hysteria.

What if  I was imposing? She has an entire family and adding my sister and me to the mix would only lead to a rendition of the Brady Bunch. And what if this was in fact, super weird? I could already feel the heat of judgment radiating from the gods of social structures.

So I did the most professional thing I could think of. I went into her office, during a break, holding back my tears, and spewed incoherent sentences, but again Dr. Rahav only responded, “Honey, you’re the one that’s worried. I’m not worried.” 

With her reassuring words, I texted my sister and told her the plan.

That night after work Dr. Rahav took me to her place where her children and partner welcomed me warmly. They fed me dinner and a beautiful apple crumb cake. The entire time I was eating I kept thinking, “There’s got to be a catch, right?” But the only thing I was requested to do is watch the “Kaminsky Method”. Which, if you have not seen, is a very funny show.

Before heading out Dr. Rahav’s eight-year-old daughter, who was quite the host, made up the couch and mattress in the living room for me and my sister to sleep on. I insisted on helping, but she was very stern in letting her do it. After that, I left for the airport.

When my sister, Caitlyn, and I were finally reunited I gave her an entire spiel on how our days would go so we would not impose. We would eat all meals out and we would only come back to the apartment when we were ready to shower and go to bed. This was my master plan. 

I went to bed that night ready to implement this schedule, but the next morning when I woke up Dr. Rahav already had tea waiting for me. Though this was not apart of the itinerary I eagerly welcomed the warm brew and conversation. Not long after my sister woke up and I  introduced her to everyone. 

That morning wasn’t what I had in mind, but it turned out way better.

My sister and I had breakfast with Dr. Rahav and her family. We spoke about childhood memories and life growing up in the midwest. They shared their stories and how in Israel everyone’s home is welcomed to guests alike. We were laughing, eating, and talking as if we had always been each other’s lives. 

After a day of adventuring my sister and I came back to the apartment where Dr. Rahav was cooking dinner. She invited me to the kitchen and showed me how to cook collard greens.

For those of you who don’t know me, my cooking skills haven’t advanced past picking up pizza in a college buffet line. So having this opportunity to learn in such a warm setting was special.

After we all shared dinner together we sat around and laughed over baby photos and my Halloween costumes throughout the years. My sister, Dr. Rahav’s daughters, and I watched lip sync battle and then eventually got caught in the dark whole of endless youtube videos. 

 

I went to bed that night laughing at myself. My master plan that I never laid into effect was no plan at all. All these moments, that Caitlyn and I were sharing with Dr. Rahav and her family were so much better. 

When Monday rolled around and I had to take my sister back to the airport I said to her, “I’m sorry if this wasn’t what you had in mind for this weekend.” She laughed at me. Though my sister is younger, she possesses a mind much wiser and calmer than my own. She looked at me and said, “Rachael I came here to spend time with you. And that’s what I got to do.”

And when it was time for her to head into the airport she looked at me and said, “And there aren’t many bosses like Dr. Rahav. Don’t you mess yourself out of this job.” 

I laughed. She was right. There aren’t any bosses like her.

I realized in that moment I had a lot to be thankful for, despite the unfavorable critters moving into my apartment.

Moving here has been overwhelming at times. But to know that at the end of the day there are people who would open their doors to someone they have only known for a few short months left me at peace.

Because isn’t this what the holidays are truly about? Not the gifts or forced conversations, but the act of welcoming and giving to those that you may not consider your own?

Maybe if we all extended that much warmth and grace and opened our doors to those no matter the social etiquette of it all, the world would be a more compassionate place where taking care of each other wouldn’t feel like an exception.

 

written by Rachael Kuecher