They Let Her Stay Rent-Free. What She Left Behind Changed Everything

It started with a phone call. A quiet voice on the other end asked about the rental unit the Zaltz family had advertised. “It sounds right for me,” the elderly woman said. “May I come see it?”

When she arrived, the Zaltz couple hesitated. This wasn’t the kind of tenant they had imagined. She was much older than they expected, a bit unusual, and seemed out of place in their young, lively neighborhood. They had pictured a smiling young couple, not a woman who looked like she belonged in a different world entirely.

Still, she didn’t seem to notice their hesitation. She walked through the apartment briskly and said, “I’d like to sign the contract right away.” The Zaltzes tried to delay. They told her the building might be too noisy for her, or that they required six months of rent paid in advance. But she calmly opened her purse, wrote out six checks on the spot, and signed the agreement.

She moved in that very day—and made her presence known immediately. She knocked on all the neighbors’ doors, introducing herself with confidence, even if the neighbors responded with confused or uncomfortable glances.

It soon became clear that she was very lonely. She would knock at the Zaltz family's door at all hours, just to talk. And she talked a lot. Within a few days, they had heard her entire life story: how she had been engaged to a soldier who was killed during the Six-Day War, and how she had never truly accepted the loss. She still waited for him—and believed she would see him again at techiyat hameitim, the resurrection of the dead, one of the central beliefs in Judaism.

She had no children, no family left. For decades she had lived alone in Tel Aviv. But as she grew older and less mobile, the loneliness became too much. That’s why she had moved—to find a bit of warmth, a place with life and people.

But as the months passed, her presence became harder to bear. She talked endlessly, needed constant attention, and worse, she wasn’t paying rent. After the first three months, she quietly told the Zaltzes, “If you deposit those checks, they’ll bounce. Better wait a little.” But “a little” turned into months, and then a full year. Every time they asked about the rent, she pleaded, “You wouldn’t throw a childless old woman out, would you?”

It reached a breaking point. She was strange. She was a burden. The other neighbors complained. She paid nothing. And yet—she was a fellow Jew, alone in the world. Could they really send her out into the street?

The Zaltz couple sat with their dilemma. They looked at this woman, so alone, and made a decision: we won’t turn her away.

And so they let her stay. For five full years, she lived beside them—without paying rent. They treated her with dignity. They listened to her stories. They brought her food from their Shabbat meals so she could taste their cooking. They became her only family.

When she fell ill and was hospitalized, Mrs. Zaltz ran to visit her. She even coordinated with neighbors to make sure someone would be by her side each day. The woman was deeply touched. But the next morning, her condition suddenly worsened. She passed away.

The neighbors gathered for her funeral and agreed to learn Mishnayot—sections of the Mishnah, part of the Oral Torah—for the elevation of her soul during the shloshim, the first 30 days of mourning.

After the shiva (the first seven days of mourning), the Zaltz family went into her apartment to pack up her things. As they opened the first drawer, they found a large brown envelope. On it was one word: “Will.”

Inside, the woman had written:
“To the dear Zaltz family:
The truth is, I was never poor. I had more than enough money to pay rent. But I wanted to see something that can't be bought: kindness. I wanted to know if your compassion depended on what I could give you—or if it was truly who you are. You passed the test beautifully. You gave me warmth, dignity, and family when I had nothing to offer in return.

As a thank-you, I leave you my apartment in Tel Aviv—a 2.5 room home overlooking the sea. From the moment I leave this world, it belongs to you.”

She ended with deep gratitude and praise for the kindness and patience the Zaltz family had shown her, calling it a level of mesirut nefesh—self-sacrifice—beyond words.

When they visited the lawyer to handle the will, he smiled. “Her apartment is worth three million shekels,” he said. “She left it all to you.”

They had given freely, with no expectation of reward—and in the end, were repaid with a blessing far beyond anything they could have imagined.

When she arrived to view the apartment, the Zaltz couple was dismayed. The potential tenant was very elderly and looked somewhat strange. This wasn't how they had imagined their tenants. They had thought of a young, smiling couple, but before them stood a woman who seemed to belong to another world.

However, the potential tenant didn't notice their thoughts. She was energetic and asked to sign a contract immediately. At first, the couple tried to dissuade her with various excuses, even claiming that the building was too young and lively for her, suggesting she might be better off looking for an apartment in a quieter building. They also mentioned requiring checks for six months in advance. "This way," they hoped, "the matter would be delayed a bit, and we could reconsider what to do."

But the energetic lady pulled out her checkbook, signed six checks, and immediately signed the rental agreement as well. The Zaltz family had no choice but to sign the contract too.

That very day, the tenant moved her belongings into the apartment and also managed to make a loud introduction to the neighbors by knocking on their doors, drawing puzzled looks from them.

After a few days, it became clear that the woman desperately needed to talk to people, and she was capable of knocking on the door at any hour, simply asking to come in and talk. The Zaltz family home, adjacent to hers, was her most preferred destination.

Within a few days, all family members heard her sad life story: in her youth, she was engaged to a soldier who fell during his service in the Six-Day War, and since then, she had never been able to come to terms with the difficult news, and she was still waiting for him - until the resurrection of the dead... Meanwhile, in the last few decades, she had lived alone, lonely and childless, in a house in Tel Aviv, but as she aged and found it difficult to go out, the loneliness weighed on her, so she decided to move to a more cheerful neighborhood, to live in a vibrant and happy community.

The new tenant became a burden on the Zaltz family and all the building's residents. Besides that, the financial issue weighed on the landlord family: the tenant wasn't paying the rent.

After three months during which the checks were deposited, the tenant informed the Zaltz family that if they deposited the checks, they would bounce due to insufficient funds, so it would be better if they waited a bit. After some time, they asked her about the payment, but to no avail.

Months passed. Half a year went by, and the tenant was living next to them without paying anything. Every time the subject came up, she just asked them to wait a bit longer because "surely you wouldn't throw a childless woman out to live on the street."

One evening, the family felt they had reached their limit: the tenant appeared strange; she was a burden on the family and the building's residents, and some saw her as a nuisance; she also needed a great deal of attention; and worst of all – she wasn't paying rent. She was simply living there for free...

On the other hand, she truly seemed like a miserable and lonely Jewish woman. Could they throw her out onto the street? Perhaps this was a case where compromise was required? Maybe this was the place to bite their lips bravely and wait longer and longer?

Despite the difficulty, the couple made the noble decision: to compromise

Despite the difficulty, the couple made the noble decision: to compromise. The strange 'rental' continued for five years, with the Zaltz family bravely biting their lips time after time. They continued to be her companions, let her speak to them as much as she wanted, and even sent her samples of every dish they cooked so she could taste it and share her opinion.

It was evident that the tenant was content with her new life and truly happy with the decision she had made - to come live beside them, free of charge.

When the tenant fell ill and was taken to the hospital, Mrs. Zaltz rushed to visit her and inquire about her well-being. At the same time, she coordinated visitation shifts among the female neighbors for the coming days. When the elderly woman heard about this, her face beamed with joy, but only for a short time: the next day, she suddenly deteriorated and passed away.

After the funeral, which was attended by residents of the building and neighborhood, they decided to divide the Mishnayot learning among themselves for the elevation of her soul during the first month after her passing.

The Zaltz family waited until the end of the shiva, and then entered the rental unit to clear out her belongings. When they opened the first drawer in the dresser, they were shocked to discover a large brown envelope with 'Will' written in large letters at the top...

This is what the tenant wrote in her will: "To the dear Zaltz family! The truth is, I never had difficulty paying the rent; I have more than enough money. But I wanted to test whether the fair and generous attitude towards me depended on money, or if you really are such noble and forgiving people, giving such a nice attitude and unlimited attention to a strange woman, without any compensation. You passed the test with great success, and with deep admiration for your noble behavior, I give you a farewell gift of my house in Tel Aviv, a 2.5-room apartment with a sea view. From the day I leave this world, this apartment will be yours as a gift."

The will ended with heartfelt thanks, with the tenant praising the Zaltz family, who had devoted themselves to her in an unprecedented manner, with noble and sublime sacrifice.

When the Zaltz family arrived at the lawyer handling the case, he revealed to them that the apartment was valued at three million shekels. "You've won the lottery for three million shekels," said the lawyer. "Her apartment - is now yours..."