I was walking along a residential street, when a sleek, black car pulled up beside me. The window rolled down and a friendly, Jewish face asked me, “Rabbi, are you lost? Do you need a ride?”
“No. I live just around the corner,” I responded.
His eyes opened wide. “I don’t believe it! I was sure you were from Antwerp! What are you doing in a place like Aachen?”
“I have a Chabad house here,” I explained.
I didn’t understand why he was so surprised. He explained that he was originally from Aachen, but after he’d become frum, he’d moved to nearby Antwerp. He still commuted regularly. In fact, his office wasn’t far from my house at all!
“I can’t believe we’ve never met before!” I marveled.
“I can! I know exactly why we met today,” he said, triumphantly. “Just this morning, my wife and I were discussing a property we own here that we no longer have use for. It’s a nice-sized commercial space, with a separate living quarter attached.
“I’d love to leave it to a shul, I told her. It’s a shame Aachen doesn’t really have an active Jewish community that would use it. And then, I bumped into you, right out here, on the streets of Aachen!”
