It was the summer of 1997. In the dissolved Soviet Union, Jewish life began to take shape. Rabbi Meir of Jerusalem has taken upon himself the sacred task of creating a vibrant Jewish nucleus in Baku, the capital of Azerbaijan, located near the border with Iran, a backward Muslim country. As part of their war against religions, the Communists declared that "religion is opium for the masses," and forced the Muslim masses to leave the Muslim religion. (Today, due to Iranian influence, there is once again a Muslim religious awakening.)
In those days, kosher food was still not available on the site. Rabbi Meir would take the weekly flight on Sundays and return a week later, taking with him about 25 sandwiches to eat from his home, as well as a bottle of wine with two Kiddushim for Shabbat and Havdala. Being experienced on the road, he would take boiled wine with him. [Since it was halachically ruled that wine that was touched was not Jewish, it was forbidden When drinking, unless the wine is boiled, in which case the wine is not forbidden], and he would take it in a plastic bottle, in order to lighten the weight, and also not break the rocks of the road.
That Shabbat evening, after a busy and tiring week, Rabbi Meir prepared himself to stay at the Continental Hotel in the city [tourists were only allowed to stay in this hotel, they were forbidden to stay in the local hotels, so that the authorities' watchful eyes would be on them], put down his belongings, and prepared everything for the upcoming Shabbat. To his surprise, he noticed that this time, unusually, the wine was in a glass bottle. Carefully he placed the bottle next to the cooler but careless movement knocked him down, and the bottle shattered into pieces, and with it the wine that was prepared for Shabbat.
The anguish of the soul was great, Shabbat without kiddush... What do you do? As mentioned, it is not possible to purchase kosher wine here, and the time is already approaching Shabbat. Suddenly, an idea flashed in his head: he remembered that on his way to the hotel he had passed through the local market, and noticed a vendor selling grapes. His attention was drawn because of the beautiful merchandise and the high price demanded by the peddler - $1 per kilogram. And the living is $25-$30 per month per person. And so, when he heard the peddler announce such a large sum, it was an unusual thing that caught his attention.
Meir considered the situation, and decided that the only solution he had was to go to the market, look for the vendor, buy the grapes, and produce kosher grape juice. He said and did, went out to the market, and searched among the stalls for the peddler with the crate of grapes. After a few minutes he found the peddler. He still had about 3 kilograms left, and Meir bought them immediately. To the seller's surprise, he did not bargain, and paid $3 - a huge sum in such a poor place.
As they were closing the deal, he noticed that not far from him was a group of local youths, pointing to him and talking about him. He felt uncomfortable, but he ignored it. Suddenly, one of the girls turned to him: "Hello." Meir continued to "not listen," but she got closer to him and began to talk to him in Hebrew. Meir was very apprehensive at first, and tried to shake off, but the young woman did not let go. "Where do you speak Hebrew so well?" asked Meir, and she answered that about two years ago she immigrated to Israel with her family, but she was very disappointed with the social life in Israel, and returned to Bako. To his question: Where did the mother of Be'er return and why did she return alone? She replied that they had good Muslim friends, and she came back to marry their son. Rabbi Meir was horrified, but said nothing. Rabbi Meir looks at his watch. It's already twenty minutes to sit down. What do you do? "Look," he told her, "I live in a Continental Hotel. It's really late now, and I'm observing Shabbat. We can't keep talking, but know that we have to talk about matters that are important to your future, because it's a step that will affect your entire life. If you want, come to the hotel tomorrow afternoon, and we'll talk about it." And so they parted.
Rabbi Meir returned to his hotel, quickly squeezed the grapes into a shirt that he dedicated to this noble cause. He had exactly the amount of grape juice to make two Kiddushim and Havdalah on Saturday night... On Saturday afternoon, after an exhausting and arduous week, Rabbi Meir slept in his hotel when the whole thing blossomed from his memory. Suddenly, the phone rings non-stop. Of course, he didn't take the phone. A few minutes later, one of the hotel employees appears, knocks on the door, and informs him that someone is looking for him. When Meir came to his senses, he realized that it was the same daughter of Israel who had indeed come to talk to him. Meir told the guard that he had immediately gone down to the lobby (since the locals who lived there were not allowed to enter the hotel, unless they were sitting in the lobby with the guest under the watchful eye of the authorities). When he went down to the lobby, he saw Ruth standing outside the hotel gate waiting for him. Meir realized that his short words did not give her any rest. And she came to hear what he had to say.
Rabbi Meir began to tell Ruth about creation and the Creator, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the tribes, the descent to Egypt, the redemption, the revelation at Mount Sinai, the role of the Jewish people in the world, and other fundamental knowledge of Jewish teachings. After a four-hour conversation, Ruth told him that she wanted to keep in touch, and that she wanted a business card. Here Meir explained to her the foundations of Shabbat, the concept of 39 labors that are forbidden on Shabbat, and the prohibition of moving from the private domain to the public domain, and therefore he cannot give her the business card, since it is forbidden for a Jew to move from one place to another. To this, Ruth replied: "After all, I have a bag full of personal belongings, and what difference does it make with another card?" Meir replied that it was impossible for a good thing to come out of an act of prohibition. [It is forbidden to take it out of the private domain – the hotel, into the public domain – into the street]. Then an idea came to his mind. He pointed to a stone in the yard and told her: "On Saturday night before my departure I will put my card under the stone. If you want, you can pick him up on Sunday morning and be in touch."
On Saturday night, after the Havdala, he put the business card under the stone, as they had said, and returned to Israel on an early morning flight. The next few days, which were also stressful and busy, made his heart forget the whole story.
About six months later, he received a phone call. The speaker introduced herself as a severed mother. Rabbi Meir did not know who the speaker was, and then she reminded him of the story of their meeting in Bako. "Since our conversation, I haven't found any rest. I decided to cancel the marriage with my Muslim friend and return to Israel to get to know Judaism. The hours you spoke to me require continuation. Until now, I was embarrassed to call, but I want to home and family, and together they be in touch again." Meir invited her to his made the following Shabbatot. Today, Ruth is married, and her husband, an important Torah scholar, serves as a rabbi in an important community in the Land of Israel.
