I take a deep breath.
I turn around to see the huge crowd of hundreds surrounding me from all sides.
I see a personal injury lawyer on one side, a mother of six on the other, children of all ages, teens that I recognize from my teen programs, and the good ol' Jewish grandma.
All, with their eyes closed, focused.
The playground is quiet. The basketball was left mid air, and the slides are empty. The only thing that was heard was the ice cream truck driver trying to figure out where all his little customers went.
And I give that final Shofar blast. The Tekiya Geeeeeeeeeedola.
At that moment, I am full of feeling.
A feeling of awe - in awe of the proud Jewish teens, who left their non-Jewish teammates scratching their heads at their absence.
A feeling of thanks - thankful for the mission to be there for each other, joined as one community.
And a feeling of hope - hope for a Jewish future. Because no matter where we are on the social scale, no matter what class or party we label ourselves with, we are all present, experiencing the same simple Shofar blast, and the same united Jewish soul.
An experience that must stay with us for the year, and fuel the future generation.
And as I open my eyes, and my kids begin distributing the laffy taffys, I am approached by the mom of a public school student:
'Rabbi, how do I get my child to more Jewish programs?'
And I give a quiet smile. Thanking Hashem for the sign that our mission is succeeding, that the Jewish people do not disappoint. And that we are clearly closer to Moshaich than we may imagine. |