Miracle on the 80!
Monday and Tuesday brought a ton of snow to the Midwest and the east coast. I was at a conference in New York, and returned to to my aunt's house super late on Tuesday night to try and catch a little bit of shut-eye before heading back home early in the morning.
I arrived on her block at 12:30am and tried, unsuccessfully, to find a parking spot. I circled the area for a full half-hour and finally gave up. You have to realize that this was urban Brooklyn, New York, where parking is always impossible. But, post-snow storm, it was an absolute, total mess. (It made me appreciate Cleveland even more!)
I was prepared to just start driving back to Cleveland and perhaps stop off somewhere on the road. Then, out of the blue, at 1:00 in the morning, a man appeared, walking down the block, all bundled up and braving the cold, snow and ice. I rolled down my window and asked if he happened to know of any possible parking spots nearby.
"Actually, my in-laws live on this block and have an empty driveway - although it's probably iced over. That's why I didn't park there. I had to park 20 minutes away, on a service road and walk home. If you're able to pull into it, you're welcome to park there," he says.
Guess what? Not only was the parking spot available and accessible, but it was actually next door to my aunt's house! Pretty amazing, if you know what Brooklyn street parking is like. Especially after a snowstorm. Was this man Elijah the Prophet? Who knows?
But wait, the day got even better.
In an effort to avoid the infamous NY rush-hour traffic and arrive back home at a decent hour, I left NY at 4:30 am and made it to the I-80 by 5:30. My plan was to pull over somewhere at around 6:30, wrap myself with tallis and tefillin, get back into the car, and begin reciting the morning prayers by heart as I drove, and then pull over somewhere in time for shema and the amidah (silent devotional prayer) by 7:15, timed for sunrise and therefore the ideal time for the prayers to be recited.
I wasn't sure where I'd find an ideal spot to pull over to wrap and recite these prayers, but I had faith that, wherever it was, it would be there for me when I needed it!
At 6:30, I noticed a Dunkin' Donuts exit sign. I entered the store, ordered a coffee and then noticed something interesting about this particular store: in the back of the store there was a smokeshop with all kinds of cigars and tobacco products. Being that it was still early in the morning, that part of the store was still closed, and provided a wonderful, private (though unlikely) place for me to wrap my tallis and tefillin comfortably and discreetly.
Back on the 80, I enjoyed the opportunity to pray while enjoying the serene and scenic pre-dawn, Pocono Mountains backdrop. By 7:10, I was approaching the shema, and noticed a green exit sign: BLAKESLEE PA EXIT ON RIGHT.
I pulled off, and right off the highway was a Best Western motel. I pulled into the parking lot, and recited the shema. But what about the amidah? It needed to be recited standing up in a quiet, meditative stance, and I obviously didn't feel comfortable walking into hotel lobby draped in my tallis and tefillin, in middle of my prayers and unable to answer the hotel clerk, who would inevitably reach out and greet me when I would walk into the small hotel lobby.
Then I had this inexplicable feeling that if I pulled into the back of the hotel, somehow, I would find a viable solution to my dilemma.
I drove to the rear parking area, and found one spot vacant. As I pulled into that spot, right in front of a hotel room, the window shade opened, and I realize that, lo and behold, the face looking back at me, out of that window was none other than an old friend of mine, Rabbi Mordechai Smilovitz!
I exited the car, and probably looking to him more like Elijah the prophet, motioned to him that I would like to come to his room to pray. Understanding perfectly, he motioned me in. I then motioned to him to come and meet me in the lobby to escort me to his room, which he did.
I was so blown away by seeing the immediate results of my faith in G-d that a solution to my prayer dilemma would be waiting for me in the back at the hotel, that my prayers were unusually heartfelt and meaningful in the corner of that hotel room.
After my prayers, Rabbi Smilovitz turned to me and says, "So, do you believe in miracles?"
"What in the world are you doing here?" I asked him. He replied that he was driving from New York back to his home in Detroit, and had been stranded in there since Monday evening when the storm hit. He had just opened the window shades to let in the sunlight, when he noticed my Ohio plates.
The incongruity of meeting an old friend in the most unlikely location of Blakeslee, PA, timed perfectly with the optimal time for sunrise prayers and his opening his shades just as I was pulling in, was an incredible sign of connection for me on that long and lonely road home. My eyes remain open for miracles - seek and you shall find.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Koval
