|
|
|
http://www.jewishworldreview.com --
IT WAS FRIDAY AFTERNOON. I was traveling down Maryland Avenue in Baltimore and I needed
flowers for the Sabbath. So I turned on Clay Street and pulled up in
front of the flower shop. A stop at Clay Florist had long been a regular
Friday afternoon routine for me. I abandoned that routine, however, when my
office moved to the other side of town. It had now been well over a year
since I was last in the store.
I bounded up the steps, entered the store and asked the woman wrapping a
bundle of flowers if Lou was in. She said that he was not. I asked if he
would be returning soon. She said that he would not.
After recovering from my initial shock, picturing Lou sitting mindlessly in
an out-of-state nursing facility, I felt great pangs of regret for all the
missed opportunities. I had to tell Lou how fondly I regarded him.
Lou’s conversations were always predictable and simple. “How’s business?”
“How about the Orioles?” Then perhaps a bit of politics. Sometimes he would
proudly tell me about flowers he sent to a synagogue or other Jewish
institution. And then always: “Have a Good Shabbos!”
Jewish World Review Feb. 25, 2000 / 19 Adar I, 5760
Lou's lesson
By Aron U. Raskas
Lou, she told me, was being cared for in a nursing facility in New York. It
seems that some time ago – more than a year ago – he disappeared from his
Baltimore shop and home without a trace. After several weeks, according to
the shopkeeper, he was picked up by New York City police wandering
aimlessly on the streets outside the Port Authority bus station. It seems that Lou was suffering from the effects of Alzheimer’s
disease.
I don’t know how observant a Jew Lou was in his daily life and practice. I don’t even purport to know the level of his actual Shabbos observance. But I do know that for many years, more than 52 times a year --- each and every Shabbos and Yom Tov (religious festival) --- tables in countless homes stood more elegantly and festively adorned because of Lou’s generosity.
I am sure that this was no accident. This was Lou’s mitzvah of honoring the Sabbath. Our sages likely had Lou in mind when they bestowed a special blessing upon those “who delight in the Shabbos”, including specifically one who does “even a small thing, so long as he does it for the honor of Shabbos” (Talmud, Tractate Shabbos 118b).
Hopefully, Lou received at least a perfunctory “thank you” from each of his regular Shabbos customers. I tried to make my appreciation somewhat more evident to him. Yet, while I often sat at my table on Friday night gazing at Lou’s flowers and thinking about this man and his particular mitzvah, never did I properly express these thoughts to him. Now, unfortunately, it seems too late.
We all, no doubt, encounter in our daily lives those unique individuals whose
small but constant contributions enrich our lives and spirits, as well as
our community. Whether it is the shul sexton tirelessly working beyond the
ordinary call of his duties to prepare and beautify the synagogue for our
presence, the retiree who arrives early on cold winter mornings to turn on
the heat and shelve books in the synagogue or study hall, the caterer who late
at night runs leftover food to a local charity for distributions to the
needy, the friends and “big brothers” who carve time each week from busy
schedules to spend with widows and orphans, and so many others, each
deserves to hear our gratitude before it is too late.
For Lou it evidently is. Yet, in my heart I believe that he did realize how great he appeared in many of our lives. Likewise, I pray that all of the other Lous among us take comfort in the knowledge that we are indeed grateful for their constant contributions even when we are remiss in letting them know.
“Have a Good
