Wherever I May Roam
You may be tired of hearing yet another one of my stories about finding a minyan in some far-flung place, and I wouldn't blame you. I do seem to be a magnet for such stories. So here is something a little bit different. It might start off sounding similar to other stories, but make sure to read to the end for an unexpected twist!
My 11-year-old son Nosson and I had planned a two-day, father-and-son trip together. We booked tickets to New York and had plans to spend our time at Six Flags amusement park in Jackson, New Jersey to ride the largest roller coaster in the world. But after spending many hours in the airport Monday evening, and on the airplane, sitting on the tarmac, our flight got canceled, and there were no reasonable flights for us to reschedule.
So we stayed home, and decided to go to Cedar Point the next day instead.
I felt bad that I would not be able to pray the evening services with a minyan as I was out at Cedar Point, but I recognized that this was the right thing for me to do, to be there with my son. Lo and behold, smack in the middle of the amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio, I noticed a group of Chabad teenagers. They were part of a camp from Pittsburgh, they told me, and yes, they were planning on having a minyan near the valet parking area. The evening mincha service would begin at 7 pm, and the night maariv service at 10 pm.
Elated, I felt like I had received a divine hug, with Hashem providing a minyan for me in the most unlikely of places!
We (my son, that is - I watched) hit every single roller coaster in the entire length and breadth of the park, and at 7:00, he was still finishing up his turn on one of the gravity-defying rides, so I wasn’t able to make it to the edge of the park in time for the evening prayer service. Then, at 9:30, he decided that he had had enough and he wanted to go home. I tried to stall for time to make the 10 pm service, but by 9:45 he was done, and off we went, back to Cleveland. I ended up praying the nighttime prayer service by myself without a minyan, in my home at 12:30 am, with my eyes half-closed.
So I couldn't help but wonder. Why would G-d provide me with minyan all the way out in Jewishly forlorn Cedar Point and then not allow me to join? It seemed like such a tease.
I’m not sure. Perhaps He wanted to see how badly I really wanted the minyan? Or perhaps He wanted to teach me how important it was for me to spend quality time with my son? Or both?
Ultimately, this story reinforces my belief that G-d “prepares the footsteps of man,” as we recite in our blessing each morning. And like the old joke of the synagogue that the man on the deserted island would not walk into, sometimes He provides a minyan for us to pray in, and sometimes He provides one for us not to pray in... wherever I may roam.
Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Koval
