Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement…7:15 a.m.
From sundown to sundown, one fasts in quiet contemplation, repenting for any wrongdoing committed throughout the year.
I’m on the runner’s track headed for home, when I come upon two boys, perhaps 6 and 7, dressed in identical school uniforms: gray wool slacks, navy blazers, the tails of their white button-downs billowing in the breeze…ties undone, tiny, shiny loafers picking up the early light, strolling in what seems to be serious conversation.
You can just see them tucking in those shirts, like pros, a block away from school.
A woman, I assume is their nanny, is walking up ahead. As I get closer, I see she’s not their nanny at all, but their mom, holding a Torah gently in her hands.
We both, at the same time, look back at the two boys.
“Are they brothers,” I ask with a smile she warmly returns.
“Yes,” she says, “close as can be, and as much as they begged, I didn’t want to keep them out of school to go to Temple, even though they insist on fasting like me and my husband.”
“They look like little men,” I say, still smiling, because they did, the way they walked with such purpose, one listening intently to the other.
“Yes, they are little men,” says the mother, “and hope they will grow to be good men.”
Suddenly the littler one calls out, “Mama, I’m feeling, well, I don’t think I can go all day this hungry. Can we stop and get a muffin please?”
“Of course we can Ari.”
“They are still only little men,” she then says to me, with what I can only describe as wistful joy.
“Little men, I love so, so much.”
How’s that for a tender tale.
This entry was posted in Books
, New York City
and tagged Judaism
, Parents raising children
, Private New York City Grammar Schools
, The Central Park Reservoir
, The Torah
, Yom Kippur 2019
. Bookmark the permalink