When we sent out informational fliers and invitations to the community, asking them how we could best serve them, Solomon* asked if we had Kabbalat Shabbat services. Kabbalat Shabbat, Yom Tov tefillos, and Pesach were the mitzvos he loved. However, for some reason, when it came to tefillin, he refused every time I offered.
While Solomon was hospitalized, I visited him frequently. Although I knew he would say no, I brought my tefillin each time and offered him a chance to put them on.
One morning, when I walked in, he noticed my tefillin and asked, “So, Rabbi. Are we going to daven today?”
I was surprised that he initiated the request, after so many denials, but I was more than happy to oblige. I helped him wind the leather straps around his arm and say Shema.
“Solomon, will you be placing your usual Pesach order?” I asked him, as I put the tefillin away. Every year, Solomon placed an order for kosher le’Pesach food and matza. “I hope you’ll be out of the hospital by then.”
“Nah. I won’t be needing any this year,” he said, almost casually.
I was confused, but Solomon was entirely correct. He passed away a few weeks later, just before Pesach.
*Names changed to protect privacy
