We knew it’d be hard to get a minyan for Yom Kippur, but it was still disappointing to see that we only had nine men as the last hours of Yom Kippur approached. I started Neilah with a heavy heart, wistfully wishing that just one more person had shown up.
There were just a few moments left, and we were on the final pages of the Machzor. Suddenly, the door opened, and a man slipped into a seat and looked around, curiously. As I chanted the ancient words, describing how the gates of prayer were closing, I thanked Hashem for miraculously completing our minyan.
After making havdalah and eating a bit, I introduced myself to the mysterious “tzenter.”
“I actually live right behind this building,” he said. “I saw your signs go up a while ago, when you first moved in, and I told myself I had to come here one day. Today, I was sitting with my daughter at home, when I remembered it was Yom Kippur. Even though the holiday was almost over, I knew I needed to come in and celebrate the last few moments. I’m so glad I did.”
*Names changed to protect privacy
