Cow Talk

In connection with this special time of year, I heard a beautiful story that I wish to share with you.

Yom Kippur’s chill is already felt in the air; it’s time to recite “Kol Nidrei.” The tension in the synagogue is tangible. The prayer shawls are tightly wrapped around the tear-stricken bent-over figures hugging their prayer books to their chests.
As the Rabbi enters the synagogue, all eyes turn towards the beloved sage and mentor. To the surprise of all present, the Rabbi doesn’t walk to his place at the front; instead, he walks to the back bench where all the simpletons and beggars of the community sit, and he approaches Tuvia, the local milkman, for whom the term ignoramus would be too generous a description. This guy was such a blockhead that even mastering the alef bet was an impossible feat.
With a big smile, the Rabbi greets him: “Hello, and a Shana Tova to you!”
“Thank you, Rabbi!”
“So tell me, Tuvia, how are your cows dealing with the weather?”
The whole Shul is shocked. WHAT?! Has the Rabbi’s mind snapped just before the holiday? Or maybe – surprise of all surprises - Tuvia is a hidden Tzadik, and this conversation belies great secrets.
Meanwhile, Tuvia has asserted that his cows were indeed not coping too well with the weather but, G-d willing, it will be OK.
“And have the cows produced satisfactory fertilizer?”
“Thank G-d! Thank you, Rabbi, for asking.”
Ugh… who ever heard of the connection between fertilizer and Yom Kippur? The few kabbalists amongst the crowd assured the rest that there was no name of G-d or Kabalistic term in any way associated with the word.
“May you have much Nachas from your cows and make a good Parnasa (livelihood).” And with that the Rabbi made his way to his place and signaled the cantor to begin the Kol Nidrei.
After services, the worshipers hurried over to the Rabbi. Perhaps he would explain to the curious bystanders the meaning of that dialogue.
“No, dear friends, Tuvia is exactly who you think he is, and there were absolutely no hidden secrets passed over during that discussion. However, he too is a Jew and deserves respect and attention. Over the passed few weeks I got the feeling that he would like to speak to me, to hear my voice speaking to him as a person and individual, yet due to his lack of knowledge in any intellectual, spiritual, or even practical field; talking to normal people, let alone a Rabbi was something he felt he could not do.
“So when you heard a conversation about cows and fertilizer, in essence you were watching me as the leader of the congregation showing him that I care about him. I wanted to establish for him and for everyone else that he is important as anyone else in this synagogue. And if you are wondering about the timing, remember this: Just when we feel inspired to rise above the world and experience a spiritual awakening, that is the time when we must remember the ultimate purpose is not that which transpires in the clouds, but rather, that which transpires down here, between us and our fellow Jews.”

That, my dear friends, is the story. When you will stand swinging chickens around your head, or kissing G-d at the Neilah prayer, resolving to change in the coming year, don’t forget your brother sitting next to you or behind in the back – the shlepper, the tattered-clothed beggar sitting outside, the fellow who seems to talk only nonsense. Just shine a smile, a handshake, a penny to spare, a friendly tap on the back. For all you know, you will have made his year, even his life. And that, at the end of the Holy Day, is what truly counts.
And maybe you’ll pick up the phone to ring a family member, friend or acquaintance you haven’t spoken to in a while. It really doesn’t matter what is discussed; it’s the message that counts, the message that I care about you, and love you. An email is also OK…

Easy fast and a Gmar Chasima Tova to all! May you be inscribed and signed in the book of happiness and joy.