Pidyon Haben

“Everything that openeth the womb… shall be thine; however the first-born of man shalt thou surely redeem from the age of one month…” Numbers 18:15–16

I

Rachel’s waters broke at around 10:00 on Sunday morning. She was not due for another week, but Dr. Efrati had told them that, even in this era of modern medical science, it could not be predicted when the mother’s hormones would trigger off labor. She telephoned Avi on his mobile at the kollel.

 “My waters have broken,” she said.

 “Oh, boy!” was his reaction. “Telephone Dr. Efrati immediately. I’m on my way home.” He turned to his learning companion Yaakov Cohen. “I have to go, Yaakov.”

 “B’hatzlacha,” said Yaakov. “Regards to Rachel.”

Rachel called the doctor. He was treating her privately. Avi’s parents were wealthy, Conservative Manhattan Jews (they still called their son Andrew). He was an only child. They had come to the conclusion that it was preferable that he should have turned in the Orthodox direction rather than in the worrying way, drugs, free sex, etc. which so many of his high school classmates had chosen. He had always been regarded as academically brilliant and could have obtained a place at any Ivy League university. His father had envisaged Andrew as following in his own footsteps in law.

But it was not to be. During the summer after his high school graduation, Andrew decided that he would like to visit Israel on the Birthright program. When he arrived at Ben Gurion airport, surrounded by local Israelis, seeing the Hebrew...