“Hi, Rabbi. My name is Joanne*. I’m calling about my son, Josh,” said the woman on the phone. “He’s 12, and will be bar mitzvah soon. Would you be able to give him some lessons?”
“Of course!” I agreed. “When can -”
“I should tell you a little more about him first,” she interrupted me. “Josh is autistic. It’s hard for him to meet new people, and he doesn’t like to leave the house. Lessons would have to be on Zoom. Is that okay?”
I agreed, of course, and we arranged a time to meet. I soon found out that Josh was extremely bright and inquisitive. His homeschooling curriculum hadn’t included anything about Judaism, so he knew nothing about Torah, bar mitzvah, or even how to read the Alef Beis.
I started teaching him how to read, and hoped we’d be able to learn the brachos for the Torah in time for his bar mitzvah.
I underestimated his quickness and eagerness. He quickly mastered the brachos, and wanted to keep learning. I started teaching him how to read his Torah portion, one aliyah at a time, and he was able to complete most of it!
Josh wanted to emulate me in any way he could. He bought a black fedora, exactly like mine, and promised he’d grow a beard. Even after his bar mitzvah, he wanted to continue to learn, and set his sights on uncovering the secrets of the Kabbalah.
I was so happy to hear that Josh was enrolled in a Jewish school for special needs students for the following year, knowing how much he’d love the learning.
“You don’t understand what you’ve done,” Joanne said, blinking back tears. “You didn’t know Josh before to know what a difference you’ve made. He’s a different person! A few months ago, the mere thought of leaving the house was enough to give him a panic attack. Now, he can’t wait to go to school! Thank you for all you’ve done for him. You’ve given him a new life.”
