My Little Accident at the Shoe Store

My Little Accident at the Shoe Store

Today in the shoe store, as I backed away from the cashier, I knocked over about ten boxes of girls’ sandals.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry!” I called out as I leaned over to pick them up. But before I’d managed to pick up a single box, from across the store, the salesman who had helped me out came jogging.

“Geveret, don’t pick them up! That is my job! That is my responsibility! With pleasure!”

I was kind of taken aback by, what appeared to be, his genuine desire to pick up the shoeboxes that I had knocked over.

And I thought of the many thousands of times I have picked up/swept up/mopped up things dropped by other members of my family. And wondered where in the world this salesman picked up so much enthusiasm to pick up my shoe boxes.

And a memory came to mind. Ten years ago, or more, at the family of my husband’s rabbi, I asked the rabbanit, “Isn’t it hard for you…I mean making Shabbat every week, all the cooking, the cleaning, the work.”

And she shot me this funny look, as though I was speaking Korean or something: “No, it’s not hard for me. I am so happy to be here with this family we have built. To be all together, enjoying Shabbat. I feel so happy to be sitting at this table every week that the work it requires doesn’t feel hard. In fact, I look forward to it.”

And picking up 100 shoeboxes or setting 1000 Shabbat tables can feel sweet, even, when you feel…

This is my job, and I love my job, and I love the people here, and I’m proud of what I’m accomplishing here, every single day.

5 comments

  1. beautiful!

  2. Wow! If he only knew what chizuk he gave you through his personal example of pride and joy…

  3. Great kavanas, and WHAT a rabbanit!

    Thanks, Chana Jenny.

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