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The Missing Tallit

I recently heard a story from a friend about her husband who lost his very cherished tallit in synagogue one Shabbat. He tried every way possible to find it. He was up on a Bima a few times making announcements to temple congregants about the missing tallit. He put a notice in the temple newsletter and even service programs asking if anyone had seen it. Very distraught about not having it and getting no results from his efforts to find it, he just gave up.

Apparently, the tallit  was not that dissimilar looking from the tallitot you often find in the temple closet for Shabbat and other services.

One day his daughter (in her 20’s) came to services with her parents. There was a basket of tallitot and she decided to go through it. You see, when she was a child she would sit next to her dad in the sanctuary and touch his tallit all the time. Remembering how it felt, she reached in the basket and after touching several tallitot she retrieved her dad’s. After a year of looking, everyone was astonished, and her dad so relieved to finally have the tallit back in his possession.

But the mystery of how it went missing for so long was also revealed.  Apparently a congregant who lives in Florida most of the year attended services.  He was visiting the NY area and by accident took the tallit home with him back to Florida….thinking it was his.

When he returned the following year he returned it to the temple’s tallitot population.

I don’t know about you, but I was so moved by this story….that the tactile experience of young girl in temple could be so meaningful that it stayed with her into adulthood.

 

 

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Get Me to The Synagogue on Time

Whenever I go to a Synagogue service I insist on getting there before the service begins. Not sure why – maybe it’s a respect thing or maybe it makes the entire experience complete for me when I’m there at the start.
I also dislike people in the congregation looking at me when I arrive late.
Anyway, this was not a priority for my husband. He would take his time getting dressed and it almost seemed like he was doing it on purpose to aggravate me. And having only one car at the time, we needed to go together since it was about a 10 minute highway drive.
One Saturday morning I was biting my fingernails waiting for him and finally he said, “just go ahead, I will find a way to get there and meet you at the Synagogue.” So I left and arrived on time for the service.
About 45 minutes later I see him walk in and sit 2 rows behind me because there wasn’t a seat next to me.
I mouthed the words to him, “how did you get here?” He showed me a hitchhiker thumb.
Then I said, “How are you getting home?”