The Short Vort
Sign up for The Short Vort and our other email lists
The Short Vort- “Hey, Rabbi, Did You See the Paper?” (1/2/12)
The Short Vort
Good Morning!
Today is Tuesday the 8th of Teves 5772 and January 3, 2012
Hey, Rabbi, Did You See the Paper?
I pulled into the gas station just as I was thinking about what I should write in relation to the fast day this Thursday – Asara B’Teves.
I had just begun to wonder what message of hope and inspiration I can offer on this day which is the ‘first’ of the four fasts which were decreed because of Sinas Chinam (Baseless Hatred) and which climax with Tisha B’av.
This fast is always the most difficult to relate to.
It comes in the middle of the winter; starts at about 6 AM and ends before 5:30 PM!
I remember one year one man admitted to me in Shul that if I would not have mentioned the fast in the Short Vort in the morning he would have forgotten to fast!
The attendant had just about finished filling my car with gas. As he squeezed a few more drops of petrol into my car and a few more dollars for his coffers I squirmed to retrieve my wallet from my pocket.
“That will be $46 sir.”
“Why thank you so much, here you go and have a Happy New Year to you and your family.”
“Thank you and by the way, you’re the rabbi of that Synagogue there on High Street no?”
I hesitated and then responded, “Yes, that’s me. How did you know?”
He did not resemble anyone in the Shul so I figured I’d ask how he knew me.
“I came by the Synagogue the other day as I wanted to ask you something?”
“Really, you came by when?”
“Oh yesterday in the afternoon, however, I saw you were preaching so I did not want to disturb. However, now that fate sent you in to buy gas I’d like to ask you something.”
I never had the shiur (class) between Mincha/Maariv referred to as ‘preaching’ however, why not? I looked back at the attendant and said, “Sure ask me whatever you want.”
“Do you have a minute for me to show you something?”
I said, “Sure, take your time.”
The fellow went to his little booth between the two islands and returned with page 19 of the December 28th edition of the New York Post.
As he passed the page to me in the car, I saw the headline, “Attacks by ultra-Orthodox Shock Israel”.
“Hey Rabbi, did you see this?”
Unfortunately, I nodded in the affirmative.
“Is this true? Did this really happen?”
Although I have no first hand knowledge of the event, from the fact that I have read no report which denies the story, I nodded again in the affirmative.
He looked down and then said, “This is pretty scary; no?”
Again I nodded.
He looked at me again and said, “This is really scary; no?”
By this point his sense of fear seemed above and beyond all normal expectations of any non-Jew reading a paper and therefore it was now my turn to ask him a question.
“Hope you don’t mind my asking but why are you so concerned about what’s going on in Israel?”
“Rabbi, let me tell you something. I come from Pakistan.
In my country there was no peace; there was always fighting and often people got killed.
Finally, my wife and I decided to move to America with our four kids. We settled in the Bronx and for a while things were better; however, soon I saw there were problems here as well.
My kids were getting beat up and my wife was scared to go shopping by herself.
I was working 14 hours a day driving someone else’s taxi-cab.
I was desperate to find a way out for my family. I felt that we went from the fire of Pakistan to the frying pan of the Bronx.
One day I had a ride from JFK to Boro Park, Brooklyn. As we drove I spoke to the man in the car. I asked him what the meaning of his clothes was; he told me he was an Orthodox Jew.
I told him how my children are taunted and bothered for being Pakistani.
He told me how his children walk together to school in the morning and they have friends and they feel safe and secure.
He told me how compared to other neighborhoods, the crime rate in his neighborhood was very low.
After I left him off, I parked my car and walked around the neighborhood. People were quiet and the children were happy. People were secure and at peace.
I came home and told my wife we should move to a Jewish neighborhood and there we will finally find peace.
I looked into moving to Boro Park, however, the prices were more than I could afford.
Then my brother who also came over with us from Pakistan told me about an advertisement he had seen in the local Pakistani paper about a gas station which was for sale in Passaic, New Jersey.
When we went to see it and I saw that there is a Synagogue right near the station and that there are many Jews here, we decided to pool our resources and we bought the station.
So you see rabbi, we moved to Passaic to get away from the fights and the violence; from the lack of harmony and the constant confrontations which were so endemic to Pakistan and the Bronx.
We settled in about three years ago and thank G-d; life has been good and peaceful.
Then last week I bought the newspaper and this article just screamed at me.
Rabbi, I know from my old days of driving my Jewish friends to Boro Park that you people look for Zion for direction.
I know that you aspire and desire to live the way your people live in Israel.
So rabbi, please tell me, is what is going in Israel going to start here?
Will little girls soon be fearful of walking to school here in Passaic as well?
Rabbi, I don’t want to move again.
Rabbi, will things be good for your people?
If you guys are fighting among yourselves, then what hope is there for me and my family?
That is why I am so scarred.”
I nodded once again put the car in ‘drive’ and knew that there was nothing more to think about what I should tell the people about the importance of Asara B’Teves.