“Who should I make it out to?” I asked.
“Zichron Yaakov Tzedaka,” she answered, her hands fumbling around one her many manila envelopes finding change for another teacher; she was always doing some chessed thing or another. I crouched over the desk and wrote out a ten dollar check. She handed me three red tickets.
“Write your name on it; the display’s past the double doors; put the tickets in there.
I nodded smiling; I had seen the display for the last week. Every day when I walked to class, the opportunity to win a set of linen or aMarc Jacob watch mocked me.
“You know this money is going straight for tzedaka,”
She nodded, “Ye, I know, that’s what I put this auction together for.”
I shook my head and laughed,
“No, I meant this money is lishma, yeah, I’m putting a ticket in, but I never win anything ever, Publisher’s Clearing House doesn’t even send me letters”
“Really, nothing? Ever? Most people have won something or another, even if it not a Chinese auction, but a scratch off lotto or the like.”
“Nope,” I said almost proudly, “Nothing. If it’s based on luck, I’m sure to lose. I’ll win you any game of spit. War, I lose every time.”
She shrugged lightly. “Drawing’s this Thursday.”
She left the teacher’s room. I left too, I was running late already, I had to pick up the kids, but make a stop first. My sister organized abone marrow/stem cell blood drive, and was harassing me to be swabbed.
“You have to show support for my effort” she said.
“I don’t have time.”
“You could save someone’s life,” she changed tactics.’
“The likelihood is small, and really, I just don’t have time.”
“I’ll pay the extra $10 dollars at the babysitter that you keep your kids there a bit longer and just do it.”
“Fine,” I conceded. “I’m doing this for you. Because, really, you know the odds, you’re the coordinator, and keep your 10 bucks, I’ll do it lishma.” I winked.
The whole thing took five minutes. Swab here, here, here, and here. Lost all my lipstick to the q-tip, but I got a nice membership card telling me I’m a donor, and did my second good deed for the day. Then I walked back to my car all the way across the parking lot, because there are never spots up front when I arrive – plenty now, but none then.
It doesn’t even bother me anymore, it’s my mazal, I’ve come to accept it. Am almost proud of it at times. and it keeps me from doing stupid things, like trying incessantly to call into the radio station, praying to be the 107th caller and win a new cd, a free pizza or something of the sort. I don’t hope for rain, or to make the bus, I plan ahead instead. It’s ok, don’t pity me, I’m happy, I just have nosort of luck when it comes to any sorts of odds.
My chicken soup was up, and the fish already made, when her name showed up on the caller id Thursday night.
“I won I won I won!!” I shouted by way of answering the call.
“Ummm, actually,” she started.
“You can’t tease me, calling Thursday when you’re supposed to be drawing the Chinese Auction.”
She laughed, “We drew the winners for the auction, have no fear, your streak is still alive.”
“Phew!” I joked, “Close call. So what can I do for you?”
There was a moment’s pause, and when she spoke again her voice was more serious, earnest, concerned,
“I volunteer for Gift of Life, you’re a match to someone, would you be willing to go for further testing?”
It took a moment to register.
“You won.” She said softly.
I guess I did.
“I won, I won, I won!” I repeated my opening line.
I broke my streak on the mother load.
(Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, though inspired by real events)