It was the most uncomfortable Shabbat I have ever experienced. What was meant to be a quick visit to the emergency room turned into a hospital admission over Shabbat, with no advance warning.
Imagine my excitement when I received a job offer to work on a national presidential campaign in Tampa, Florida, this past summer. The one catch: this job would require me to work on Shabbat.
Katia’s voice became choked with emotion as she continued, “I became very angry at Jews and at Judaism. I decided that it was not for me. ‘If Jews behave like this,’ I thought to myself, ‘it’s better for me to be among non-Jews.’”
As he was running his hands up the side of the coats, he suddenly realized that his pockets were still filled with wads of money from that day's dealings.
Prior to the next Shabbat, the commanding officer, Victor, announced that ten percent of the soldiers could go home for Shabbat, a twenty-four hour leave. Unfortunately, the truck that came to take us back to civilization arrived twenty-five minutes before Shabbat began.
I glanced at my watch nervously. Usually, I avoid flying Friday afternoons for fear I won't arrive in time, but this time, I figured I'd be safe. I figured wrong...
Driving away, the image of the candlesticks for sale on that dining room table stayed in my mind. Why am I still thinking about them? I wondered. Soon I felt more clarity: I had completely missed an opportunity!