An interesting thing happened to me on my way home from work today. Eric, my coworker dropped me off, and across the street was Rabbi Schapiro, my local Chabad Rabbi and neighbor. In all the years we have lived across from one another, this is the first time we have run into each other on the street.

We chatted about what we have been up to, and true to form, as a Chabad Rabbi, he asked me if I have been laying tefillin, going to minyan, ect… I was completely honest with him about how lazy I can be on a Saturday and Sunday, but weekdays I am pretty good.

He asked me come around to the side of his mini-van and I joked with him about what i must be in for. He laughed and took out a shofar from him bag of Jew paraphernalia. In the moth of Elul, he explained, we blow the shofar every day except Shabbat in anticipation of the new year and redemption. I have read of this custom before but never participated in it. While blowing it I become impressed! Blowing a shofar isn’t exactly easy.

He explained a Chassidic tale of the prince who left his father, the king, to study in a far away land. Over time he forgot how to speak his native language. Upon returning to his home, he couldn’t ask anyone to let him see his father. But the father, hearing him plead in another language, still recognized his son’s voice.

This interaction, as the tale illustrates, is our actions towards G-d. We are crying out for the attention of our Father and to be allowed back into the kingdom of heaven.

You have to love the Besht and his parables.

I would only reply that we should blow it much louder! He did! One long loud burst.

We laughed about now not a single person waling on the street even thought this was odd. 2 Jews up to something Jewish, I pointed out.

As a parting gift he gave me a delicious loaf of chalah made by hand by his wife.

I left with a Shabbat Shalom and a hug!Went upstairs and there was Idan reading on the couch asking if I knew why he was hearing a shofar being blown in Hoboken, NJ.