Baruch Hashem
(Blessed is the Name)
Alejandro Paiuk (2007 B)
Issue date: 3/3/08 Section: Viewpoints & Humor
I stared out the window at the greenery whizzing by and wondered what the wind hears as it passes through the forest. Through the gaps in the canopy I could see the stars shining like sprinkles in a chocolate ice cream cone and imagined constellations forming red Hebrew letters as I half-listened to what A-dam was saying about the Kabbalah.
"Did you know that Mars is closest to the Earth tonight in 60,000 years? We're going to drive up to the observatory tomorrow night to see it," I butted in.
"Baruch Hashem! Yes, the Shekhina is very powerful tonight! Oh, stop here, this is where I am staying."
We pulled up to a log by the side of the dirt road, next to which I could see a pile of books. I got out of the car and helped A-dam carry his grocery bags as Noah sat in the driver's seat, lost in thought.
"It is not a coincidence that we met tonight. There are no coincidences. What made you offer me a ride?"
I thought about the time I had inexplicably stopped to pick up a Mexican hitchhiking in the middle of Houston. He had found his way through the desert, using rocks as pillows and surviving his journey with nine cans of tuna, only to get himself lost in the city; I drove him around all night as he tried to remember the directions to his aunt's house.
"I don't know, you had a lot of bags and looked like you needed a ride. What's funny is the last time I picked up a hitchhiker I kept telling him 'you're damn lucky I found you.' This time, I think I'm lucky to have found you. Will you accept tzedakah*?"
He closed his eyes and mouthed a prayer as I handed him all the cash in my wallet. He counted it out in front of me: thirty-six dollars.
"Do you know what the number thirty six means in Kabbalah? Eighteen, chai, mean life; double chai is a sign of friendship."
I couldn't think of anything else to say. We shook hands, then hugged. I jumped back into the car and Noah turned us around toward the way we came. As A-dam's silhoutte faded in the rear view mirror, I wondered what his name truly was.
* Tzedakah: Charitable donation
"Did you know that Mars is closest to the Earth tonight in 60,000 years? We're going to drive up to the observatory tomorrow night to see it," I butted in.
"Baruch Hashem! Yes, the Shekhina is very powerful tonight! Oh, stop here, this is where I am staying."
We pulled up to a log by the side of the dirt road, next to which I could see a pile of books. I got out of the car and helped A-dam carry his grocery bags as Noah sat in the driver's seat, lost in thought.
"It is not a coincidence that we met tonight. There are no coincidences. What made you offer me a ride?"
I thought about the time I had inexplicably stopped to pick up a Mexican hitchhiking in the middle of Houston. He had found his way through the desert, using rocks as pillows and surviving his journey with nine cans of tuna, only to get himself lost in the city; I drove him around all night as he tried to remember the directions to his aunt's house.
"I don't know, you had a lot of bags and looked like you needed a ride. What's funny is the last time I picked up a hitchhiker I kept telling him 'you're damn lucky I found you.' This time, I think I'm lucky to have found you. Will you accept tzedakah*?"
He closed his eyes and mouthed a prayer as I handed him all the cash in my wallet. He counted it out in front of me: thirty-six dollars.
"Do you know what the number thirty six means in Kabbalah? Eighteen, chai, mean life; double chai is a sign of friendship."
I couldn't think of anything else to say. We shook hands, then hugged. I jumped back into the car and Noah turned us around toward the way we came. As A-dam's silhoutte faded in the rear view mirror, I wondered what his name truly was.
* Tzedakah: Charitable donation
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