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.


  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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