Eddie Mintz woke up slowly, his hand spontaneously reaching the circuit breaker that hadn't yet ringed, while remembering... There is no business meeting today, no phone calls and not even an organized trip that requires meeting the schedule, but just a bachelor's vacation with no obligation in the Land of Israel. Actually, he thought to himself, what caused that sudden impulse to fly to Israel and immigrate to Jerusalem? He recalled a warning from one of his friends who told him: "Jerusalem is no longer a beautiful city in the world, but something else that is difficult to define is in high concentration." Yes, that's what the old and little grandmother who passed away when he was a child, and since she passed away, the old world has come to an end, as his parents said. She also raised my father a lot for the benefit of Jerusalem. It's strange that he never refused her. She chanted in a cheerful voice: "Send your bread on the surface of the waters to Jerusalem, to those who sit at the gate of heaven."
He had a special relationship with his grandmother, an alliance of secret and silence that he didn't know what the compromise was, but it was. And here he is, and her memory is also cleared and returns, strange indeed. He glanced at the clock, it was still early for breakfast. From the window of his room on the sixth floor, she looked at him with a thin smile spread out to him in thousands of shades over the stone houses with red roofs. He quickly put on his sportswear, slipped down the elevator and took a slight step out of the hotel. The three of them joined him together, the blue of the sky dazzled his eyes, a cool breeze slammed its perfume into his nostrils, and the silence hit his ears. What's going on here? He asked himself, isn't this a ghost town? But when he saw them walking gently and shaking their heads at him with a smile, the word "Shabbat" rang in the air and he understood. A strange curiosity arose in him to see what was hidden behind the silence, what they were doing in the synagogue, more than enough churches he had seen in his life, maybe the time had come to see a Jewish synagogue in action as well.
Eddie stopped in front of the building where the people were being swallowed up. Now he regretted the sports uniform, he didn't even have a headscarf, hesitation crept into his heart and he was already thinking about retreating from his thoughts, when he noticed the small door open to a tower on the side of the building. With a sudden urge, he crept in, I would watch them behind the scenes, from the women's room. Fortunately for him, the help was empty, and thus he could follow what was happening below him unhindered. The truth is that he was a little disappointed. It was difficult for him to define what he was expecting, was it a wonderful beauty, a willow melody, a sublime spiritual revelation, or perhaps an excited outpouring of soul? Anyway, I don't buy it, he told himself. In fact, they didn't try to sell you anything, he admitted. Indeed, when the ark was opened and the Torah scroll was led to the bimah, Eddie Mintz fell silent in his place, his eyes followed the thick roll of parchment spread out on the table just below it, he could clearly see the drawing of the square letters that seemed to jump before his eyes. The voice of the Torah reader was heard in his ears, everything else was forgotten, only the wonderful beauty of the melody of the willow, the depths of distant mysteries, a sublime spiritual revelation, indeed his soul was very moved, flowing with tears. "Three thousand years that we read every Shabbat on Shabbat. It's a connection that can't be severed quickly, and I've also become attached to it." This is how Eddy tried to explain to his worried parents the meaning of his regular walk every Saturday to hear the Torah reading in an Orthodox synagogue in Cleveland.
"Look, son," Mr. Mintz said to him, "as long as you were driving to the synagogue in your car and back, I could understand it somehow, but now that you've been walking for an hour and a half back and an hour and a half, I can't understand the madness and even your status." "You're right, Dad, I don't understand why I can't give up the right to bring in a Torah scroll like this, but in my soul, that's how I feel." "On the other hand, I will not be able to hurt the feelings of the people of the synagogue who accept me as one of them. Besides, today I am beginning to understand that I cannot be connected to the Torah as a grown baby without knowing the reason for it. Therefore, I decided to move to live near the synagogue, to study the business seriously in order to join the community in the city as a full-fledged Jew." It was too much for the owner of the famous Mintz mansion and his noble wife, both of whom were among the leaders of the Mi and the Centenarians in Cleveland. His mother fell weakly, while his father looked at his only son, suddenly turned to his wife and said, "Grandma won," and did not add more. "Yes," Eddy said in an attempt to sweeten the "bitter news," "it won't hurt for you to be a grandmother and grandfather anytime soon, it's an obvious step for a rejuvenated Jew like me right now."
A year later, members of the Cleveland community came to Jerusalem. Of course, they did not refrain from turning to their old rabbi, who had immigrated several years ago to settle in the Holy City. The rabbi, who made sure to maintain a warm and continuous relationship with members of his former community, was also interested in everything that was going on there. Among other things, he was also told about the new member of the community, Eddie Mintz, and about his strange path to Judaism, which moved from Cleveland to Jerusalem and back through Torah reading. "Of all the stories of Providence that accompany those who return to their origins," the critics swam to the rabbi, "we have not yet heard that the Torah itself called a Jew to return without understanding a word of it. Don't you, like the rabbi's pit, know distant families well, how can you explain this strange phenomenon?" The rabbi, who was clearly excited, responded and said: "I am neither a prophet nor the son of a prophet to reveal the secrets of Providence. But I'll tell you about an incident that happened forty years ago in Cleveland:
One day it became clear that the Torah scroll had been disqualified for reading and condemned to the Genizah. There was not enough money to buy a new book, so I summoned a number of charity collectors to join me to raise money for this mitzvah. First of all, an elderly charity collector of the old generation pressed for our help, a woman who was passionate about everything in holiness. I explained to her the virtue of acquitting the many people here and the urgency of it, and asked her to also take part in the fundraising. Her first question was how much it would take to buy a book. Hearing the considerable sum, her face was stern, and after reflection she said: "Your Honor, may I donate the entire sum?" "Indeed, this is a serious question that you need to consider carefully," I replied, quite a bit surprised. "Honorable Rabbi, don't misunderstand me," she said, "I am not afraid of my savings, because this is the safest investment for them, but perhaps it is not the way of the land to snatch such an important mitzvah for myself." "Well," I said with a smile, "then you must have an important reason to deviate from your nature this time." "Indeed," replied the old self-righteous woman, "I have great hope and request in this matter." "And what is it?" I was interested to know. "I would like to ask that at the time of the inauguration of the book, when it is read to the public for the first time, they will arouse mercy for my little grandson, who has been hospitalized since his birth, blessed by the Torah for a complete refuah and will be able to enter into the covenant of Avraham Avinu quickly."
And indeed, her request was granted in full, on the first Shabbat we read in the elegant Torah scroll, the baby was blessed, and shortly afterwards he entered into the covenant of Avraham Avinu and his name was called in Israel – Eddy ben Yaakov Mintz. On the second Shabbat, after forty years, our beloved Eddie arrived in Jerusalem, to the synagogue next to his hotel, which is not coincidentally the synagogue of Cleveland immigrants, and certainly not by chance during the Torah reading he peeked at a book donated by his grandmother, the book that immigrated with us to the Land of Israel a few years ago, from which he heard what a Jewish soul should hear and completed the circle of blessing. For this is how we bless the baby in his covenant: that just as he enters into the covenant, so he will enter the Torah and the chuppah and good deeds," the rabbi concluded.
Eddie himself fulfilled what he promised to try, and towards the end of the year he brought his first son into the covenant of Avraham Avinu to the joy of his grandfather and grandmother Mintz.
