The famous Biblical commentator, Rabbi Avraham ibn Ezra, once heard of a very special manuscript which described in detail the proper melody for reading biblical text. He was so excited that he traveled to the neighboring province in an effort to study it, despite the fact that a war was raging in the area. During his travels, he was apprehended by one of the factions and was accused of being a spy.

The kindly rabbi insisted that he was a scholar on his way to study a manuscript. But the guards did not believe him. Finally, he asked who had the power to release him. They told him that only their captain could release him, so he asked to speak with the captain.

Over my years of teaching, many teacher stories have been shared with me. Some have been instructive, some less so. But the one about Horowitz is one that I like to remind myself of.

A teacher walks into class on the first day of the school year. The students get quiet as they anticipate the start of a new lesson and a new school year. The teacher asks, “Which one of you is Horowitz?” One boy raises his hand. The teacher declares, “Get out!”

The boy asks, “But why? I didn’t do anything.” 

The teacher says, “I heard about you. Do you think I’m going to wait until you do something?”

The call came in at 2:05 a.m. The 911 operator who took the call was a veteran of many years. He intoned with a mixture of compassion and authority, “Do you have an emergency?” But the caller couldn’t talk. Over the phone line came choking sobs. To the operator it sounded a bit like gasps for air. Or was it shock and panic that the operator was hearing? The sobbing, gasps, and attempts to talk in a hushed tone continued, leaving the operator baffled.

Clearly there was an emergency.  But despite years of training, it was impossible for him to tell what type of emergency it was. Was it a person in the throes of a physical or mental crisis? the operator wondered. Or was this a mass casualty event, and the caller was the lone survivor, suffering from shock and pleading for help?

Identifying the caller’s location through EMS tracking, the operator responded in the only way he felt he could. He called for a city-wide multi-disciplinary response.

Doni, a friend of mine since high school, sidled up to me in the supermarket one day and said he wanted to talk. He related that years ago he had been visiting Israel and saw a man outside Yericho who was giving camel rides. He approached the man and asked, “How much do you charge to go up on the camel?” The man replied good-naturedly, “It is free.” The price was right, so Doni took a deep breath and courageously proceeded to participate in local culture. He mounted the camel, and the camel rose. Led by its owner, the camel began to walk, as Doni held on tightly with a mixture of joy and trepidation. Eventually, he had enough and decided it was time to come down. He called to the owner that he wanted to stop. The owner called back, “To go up on the camel is free, but to come down is 20 shekel? Okay?” Doni didn’t find it funny, but he did agree.

My father encouraged us to be handy. He encouraged us to read the instructions and do it ourselves if we could. One of my fond memories of childhood is reaffixing the car rearview mirror after it fell off. Although I did wonder a bit why a rearview mirror was important – after all, people drive forward not backward – I proceeded to reaffix the mirror. I bought the glue, positioned the mirror, and then followed the instructions, holding the freshly glued mirror in place without moving for 40 minutes as I waited for the glue to dry.

The woman was distraught. Her son had set out to that place called America, where the streets were “paved with gold.” She had seen him off at the nearby train station but had not heard from him for six months. Now her head was besieged with questions: Had he made it to the ship? Had he crossed the Atlantic safely? Did he find a job? Was he okay? Finally, she heard something. A local businessman came back from America and told her that he had seen her son and that he looked well. He even provided her with her son’s address.

The woman promptly headed to the town scribe to dictate a letter to her son. She began, “Son, it is truly not right that you have ignored your aging mother and you have not sent a letter or even a regards to let me know that you are okay. Do you not realize that I worry about you day and night and that the worry you cause me is aging me prematurely? Is this the kind of upbringing we provided, to just go off on your own and forget those you left behind?”