To The Woman I Held A Door For,
I saw you when I was walking toward the temple’s side door before services today. You had your daughter on one side and her husband on the other. They couldn’t figure out how to help you down the side door steps and into the synagogue while having to carry your walker. I simply stood to the side and asked if I could hold the door for you. You smiled and told me I was sweet and that I looked pretty in my light pink dress. Your son-in-law told me thank you, and your daughter whispered to our rabbi’s wife, “She’s 92.”
I later heard you tell our rabbi how happy you were to be in temple with us today, and I knew you meant it by the tone in your voice. I heard you thank God for giving you the opportunity to once again pray amongst Jews and ask for another year in the book of life, and again, I knew you meant it.
I heard you when you were thankful for the things I have so often taken for granted, so I would like to thank you for reminding me that I am the lucky one.
Thank you for reminding me that being able to pray freely and practice my religion is not a burden, but instead it is a blessing. Thank you for reminding me that we are not all able to sit amongst our people and pray together. Thank you for reminding me that one day I will be old, and I will miss the days I could walk effortlessly into our place of worship and read the Torah in front of our fellow Jews. Thank you for reminding me that my hour’s drive from Martin to Jackson could be worse, and that I am in fact lucky to be able to drive it. Thank you for letting me hold a door for you.
Sincerely,
The Girl In The Light Pink Dress.