A European airport. Huge halls filled with passengers dragging heavy suitcases behind them. Tourists from all over the world filling the place, rushing to the gates that would take them to their destinations.
Every few minutes, another departing flight was announced, and through the gleaming windows, one could watch the large, impressive planes taking off or landing on the runways, with the air traffic control tower rising behind them in the background. Noise, tumult, a transit stop for a huge crowd making its way to countries around the globe.
Rav Shimshon Dovid Pincus was also in this airport, on a stopover between flights. His plane was to take off in ten minutes. Most of the passengers were already seated on the plane, and whoever was not – was hurrying to make their way over.
Suddenly, the Rav noticed a venerable looking Jew standing in the corner of the hall swaying slowly as he davened Minchah. From the window to his left, the reddening sky was visible, heralding the impending sunset, right behind the plane that was about to take off.
It looked like the Yid did not realize how late it was and that the plane was about to leave. Rav Pincus approached the Yid, whose eyes were closed in concentration and with tranquility on his face, as if the whole hustle and bustle around had nothing to do with him. It was the mashgiach, Rav Don Segal, shlita.
Time was running out, but Rav Pincus could not tear his eyes away from the sight of Rav Don davening to his Creator, uttering each word slowly and with dveikus. Everything around him – even the shouting and the sounds of loads being dragged – were not enough to distract him. When the loudspeaker announced that the plane was taking off in three minutes, Rav Don continued davening as if he hadn’t heard it at all. He was davening to his Creator and that was his whole world right now.
Rav Pincus stood rooted in his place, unable to move and to tear his eyes away. If the Mashgiach is standing here, he resolved, I’ll stay with him and whatever happens to him will happen to me as well...
Three minutes passed, and Rav Pincus realized that the chances were that the plane had departed without them. The loudspeaker was directing passengers to other flights, and their suitcases moved along on the conveyer belt that carried them to the luggage compartments. Only the Mashgiach still stood in the corner of the bustling hall, continuing tefillah despite the ticking clock. And the plane...it had probably taken off quite a few minutes ago into the darkening sky.
Ten minutes passed before the mashgiach finished davening, detached himself from the Upper Worlds where he had been, and landed back to the current reality. He glanced at his watch, and when he realized there wasn’t much to lose, so he continued to say Aleinu with such sweetness.
Only after that did he raise his eyes and see Rav Pincus standing next to him. The mashgiach grasped his arm and they walked together to the place where the plane had been standing, and had most likely taken off...
To their utter surprise, the plane was still standing in place, gleaming white against the runway lights. It seemed to be waiting just for them...in their honor!
The rabbanim hurried down the jetway, and reached the door. All the seats were already full, and the passengers studied them in surprise. Of course, they were asking themselves why the lateness, and how it was that the flight had not taken off until these two had boarded after the last minute.
As soon as the Rabbanim sat down, the doors closed and the plane began to move.
The passengers told them that a short time before takeoff, one of the people on the flight discovered a bag on the shelf above him that seemed suspicious. The flight crew called security, which came to deal with the bag and to guarantee the safety of the passengers. The procedure took time...and while the passengers waited for the matter to be resolved, the Mashgiach was deeply immersed in his tefillah. It turned out that those moments of delay were the minute he needed to finish his davening!
When the plane was already high in the sky and the stars twinkled through the small windows, Rav Pincus approach Rav Don and asked: “Is that how one should conduct themselves? Stand in the airport and daven slowly without paying attention to the hands of the clock? This is not a question of whether one should daven or not, but whether one should prolong his tefillah at such a time, or perhaps one should daven a bit shorter so as not to miss the flight? If the Rav would have missed his flight, it would have involved a significant monetary loss and aggravation, which also lead to bittul Torah and extra exertion...”
The mashgiach listened to Rav Pincus’s question, and when he finished, his smile grew wider and his face was suffused with a special light. “And what can I do my friend,” he replied with one short, remarkable statement, “it was so pleasant for me as I davened that I didn’t notice that the time had passed...”
How sweet and pleasant is the tefillah when we are able to imagine how we stand in front of the King of kings like an only son. We pour our hearts out to Him, thanking Him and asking from Him and bonding to Him with cords of love. He is our Father, and we turn to Him directly. Fortunate is one who is able to connect to tefillah, to the Creator of all, the Master of the world, and to feel a tremendous closeness to Hashem that cannot be compared to anything else in the world.
Tefillah Dilea, p. 149
