It’s a Chabad synagogue and the women sit on one side and the men on the other, divided by a wooden screen. We started out in the back but she couldn’t see the bimah where the Torah scroll was being read so we moved up.
As we leafed through the Chumash (Bible) to find the place to follow along, she noticed that the book goes from right to left. She flipped it over, to what would be the back of an English book and said, “This is the front, right?” And forever after had trouble finding the page we were on.
She watched with interest everything that was going on and things went smoothly until the second half of the service when she began to ask, “How much longer till it’s over?” ( our services last about 3 hours and we had skipped the first hour altogether and had come “late” to spare her the entire thing.) It’s a bit much even for a dedicated Jew. But she hung in there bravely.
I had told her carefully that when I introduced her to our Rabbi that it is his custom not to shake hands or touch women who are not in his immediate family. But you don’t know my mother. She talks with her hands and is very effusive and animated when she meets people.
I was a little worried.
I should have been.
We went up to the Rabbi and I held one of her hands tightly in mine and introduced her. The Rabbi greeted her and asked how long she was visiting and where she lived. Her other hand started waving around in the air near him, I gently grabbed it and held it too, to remind her. But she was on a roll. He asked her a few other questions and her right hand escaped my nervous grip and headed straight for the Rabbi’s shoulder to tap him for emphasis on some point she was eagerly making and I had to grab it again. I felt like I was trying to keep an octopus in check around a seafood buffet. Suddenly I did not have enough hands to keep my enthusiastic mother from committing a Rabbinic social blunder. The Rabbi must have noticed my predicament and mentioned that we should all go out to the social hall and make the blessings so everyone could eat lunch. Bless him.
My husband says next time we should give her Chinese handcuffs to wear... He's so sweet to think of that don't you think ??? :-)
We then had kiddush lunch and my mother got to eat *cholent and some kishka. She loved it.” Is THIS what you were talking about in your diary? she wanted to know. It’s so FILLING isn’t it ?”
She came away with the idea that all religious services should end with a meal. “More people would come don’t you think ?”
She’s so practical. So Jewish !
We got home at about 2 o’clock in the afternoon. “My, she said, the day is all used up! I guess this is one way to keep you from doing all those things you aren’t supposed to do on the Sabbath, use up the day with prayers and eating food, and then you don’t have any time left to get into any trouble!”
So practical. So Jewish !
I think God was smiling yesterday. And knows He has found a new convert to the love of cholent with a little kishka. Can the Messiah be far behind?
*Cholent is a traditional slow cooked stew consisting mainly of barley or potatoes and whatever else you might have on hand. Kishka is a kind of tube shaped glob of ground carrots, onions, garlic, flour and oil that you slide into the cholent as it cooks. It tastes heavenly.