Most of us like to be surprised. I know that there are those who feel that surprises might be too startling for some to handle, but I have never been such a believer. Not only do I like to be surprised, I love to surprise others. I remember the time that I knew that my granddaughter Adina was going to be in a production of “Annie” at Ora Academy in Rochester. I planned with my daughter Malkie that she would take Adina for a doughnut and drink prior to going to the school to participate in the production, and with my knowledge of when they would be in Brighton Donuts I walked in (drove from Montreal). Surprise! Bubbie was here to watch her perform.

Then there was the time when I planned a surprise 60th birthday party for my beloved Mordechai, and friends flew in from Miami Beach, my brother from New York, his sister from Boston and our children and grandchildren from all over—and he did not have a clue. Don’t kid yourselves, it happens to be a real talent to keep a surprise like that quiet.

This past Friday I found myself in a real dilemma. During the day my granddaughter Adina, who lives in Chicago awaiting her husband’s completion of medical school shortly, let me know that she was in the hospital and in labor. It is not at all unusual for her to be making me aware of her news as we are extremely close and I speak with her practically every day. She did not know what she was expecting and as the day progressed we wondered if it would be another Shabbat brit. Her two older sons were born on Shabbat and most people would agree that making a brit on Shabbat is slightly more complicated than having one during the week.

Ten minutes before Shabbat I wrote to her and told her that I would be bentching licht in 10 minutes, and whenever the baby was born she should hold it and give it two kisses, one from Zaidie and one from me. Approximately 35 minutes later I heard a beep on my phone and saw the text message that read, “Mazel Tov, it’s a boy. B”H everything is great.” The first thing that I thought of after calming down from the exciting news was, “Yeah, this would not be a Shabbat brit.” She is in Chicago, where they are one hour behind us. Then I began to wonder if I should tell the many members of our family locally. Is it fair for me to spill the beans?

At that moment I felt strongly about two things. The first was that I did not want to take away from my own daughter the pleasure of announcing to the entire family that she had a new grandson. I was also worried that it was likely that she would not yet know. I then thought about what the world was like when we did not have access to information as readily. I don’t really know the answer. I remember well when I knew that another daughter of mine was being induced on a Shabbat morning and I languished the entire day waiting to hear that all was OK. Now that I had this experience I think that I would prefer not to know because I was bursting to tell everyone and chose not to. I think that I like things best in this respect the way that they used to be. Patience is truly a virtue and I think that each of us needs to work on having more of it, even during the age in which we live—instant everything.

Mazel tov, Adina and Mordechai, on your delicious new son. May he grow to be as lovely as his amazing parents.

Nina Glick can be reached at [email protected].