Chester* was originally tentative about committing to our weekly parsha class, but he and his wife soon became regulars. They attended religiously, only absent on weeks the roads were too icy to drive.
While Chester loved the classes’ intellectual challenges, they didn’t inspire his practical observance of the mitzvos. I couldn’t even convince him to put on tefillin!
As Shavuos approached, we tried to get a minyan for Kriyas Hatorah so we could read the Aseres Hadibros. I already had eight commitments, and racked my brains for a ninth.
What about Chester? I thought to myself.
He flatly turned me down.
I left it alone for a few days, but when I still couldn’t find a minyan, I decided to try Chester again.
“I’m sure you meant you couldn’t come for the all-night learning session,” I said, a desperate edge to my voice. “But you can come that afternoon, right?”
“Rabbi, you understood me perfectly the first time,” Chester replied, brusquely.
Uh oh. He really sounded annoyed, I thought as I replaced the phone. I hope that wasn’t the last I’ll ever hear from him!
On Shavuos afternoon, I began preparing for our ice cream and cheesecake party, disappointed we couldn’t find just one more person to complete our minyan.
“Am I early, Rabbi?” a voice asked from the main room, interrupting my reverie.
I hurried to the door. It was Chester! Why was he in shul, fifteen minutes early?
“What are you doing here?” I asked him in total shock.
“We’ve been learning about G-d giving us opportunities in the last few classes,” he explained. “I realized this was G-d giving me an opportunity, and I didn’t want to give it up.”
