Once upon a time, a “young at heart” senior citizen couple decided to go on a vacation. She wanted to go to a destination that was not too far away (six or seven hours) that had cool temperatures (in the 70s as opposed to Baltimore’s humid 90s) fresh air, beautiful views, and, of course, nice accommodations. He wanted a venue that would have a good hechsher, regular minyanim, and heimishe vibes.
She leafed through her magazines,
did some research on Google and asked around. “Voila, I have the perfect place,”
she said, “Banff, in the Canadian Rockies, with the same group we’ve gone with
before.”
Happily, he agreed! He filled out the
application, submitted the deposit, and booked the tickets.
Summer was coming to a close. The Nine
Days were over, the laundry was done, and the suitcases were packed. “We are
ready,” she said very happily, thinking about the week to come.
Departure day arrived and so did the
weather alerts. The weather reporters were announcing “rain, heavy at times,
high winds, and thunderstorms.” They also mentioned that possible flight cancellations
and delays were expected. “Oh my,” she said. “Don’t worry,” he said. And off
they went to BWI.
No sooner had they arrived at their
gate for their flight to Denver than the announcements began. Their flight to
Denver was delayed because the airline was looking for a captain and crew because
the previous crew had timed out due to delays. An hour later, the flight crew
finally arrived, but, unfortunately, the flight was again delayed due to
weather.
Meanwhile, our young-at-heart
couple was getting exceedingly tired and worried. Their next leg on the trip,
Denver to Calgary, was pending. He called United. The lines for customer
service at the airport were way too long as flights were being delayed and
cancelled left, right, and center. He finally got through and explained their
situation.
“No worries,” said the agent, who
directed them to the Chicago gate where two tickets would be waiting. A
connecting flight from Chicago to Calgary would be available as well… Amazing!
Off they ran (speed-walked) to the Chicago gate, where boarding was already
underway. “Hurry,” said the flight attendants, “we will be taking off
momentarily.” An hour later, they were still sitting on the plane, at the gate,
waiting for their turn at the runway. By now they were savvy “with-it”
travelers, and they had air tags, so they were able to see that their suitcases
were on board, as well. Finally, their plane’s turn arrived, and they were off.
When they landed in O’Hare Airport
in Chicago, they both said, “Wow, this place is huge.” There was not a minute
to spare; they had to get to their next flight. Where was it? He looked at the
departure screen and looked again. Their flight to Calgary was gone. It had
already departed.
“What now?” she asked. After
another quick look at the screen, he determined there was only one possible
flight to Calgary that evening on another airline, and it was boarding in 30
minutes. Google maps showed it would be 17 minutes to get to the gate, so off
they ran (speed walked). He took the lead, and she tried to keep up as best she
could. “Baruch Hashem, we made it,” he said as he rushed to the counter
and was informed there were still seats available, he could pay with his credit
card, and they could board.
A few hours later (a mere 13 hours after
they left home), they were in Calgary. Another small hitch awaited them. Since
the flight had been delayed so many hours, it was now about 2 a.m., and their
car service, which had been arranged earlier for the hour-and-a-half drive to Banff
was closed for the night. But thank You, Hashem, they were able to arrange an
Uber. “All’s well that ends well.”
The not-so-young-at-heart and, at
this point, totally exhausted couple arrived at their destination around 3 a.m.,
safe and sound, but there was yet another glitch. Trying to check in, the hotel
clerk could not find their reservation. After some anxious moments, it turned
out that their last name had been spelled incorrectly. Only then did the realization
of the bigger glitch set in. Other than his tallis and tefillin,
her Siddur, Tehillim, jewelry, and makeup, some reading material, and some
food (after all, a Yiddishe mama always has food in her carryon) all they had were
the clothes they were wearing. Too tired to think, they fell asleep.
They were too exhausted to go on
the first day’s tour, but, b”H, they had cancelled it the day before
when they were having one delay after another. They took note of their surroundings
and were duly thrilled with the fresh air, beautiful weather, and gorgeous
views. They were very appreciative of all this; nevertheless, not having their
“stuff” was definitely a problem. Almost immediately, other members of the
group began offering advice, assistance, and “extra” clothing. Mi k’amcha
Yisrael!
The couple was
urged to see what could be purchased online. They tried Amazon, but apparently
everything they wanted was out of stock. On to Walmart (and Instacart), where
they were able to place an order. He ordered some underwear. She was not so fortunate
but managed to order toothbrushes, toothpaste, pantyhose, and crew socks.
Hooray! A little while later, she found (very expensive) pajamas in the hotel
gift shop. Again, thank You Hashem. Now, she wouldn’t have to wear her one
dress 24/7.
Meanwhile, Hubby
was on the phone constantly with both airlines as he followed the suitcases on
his air tag app traveling from Chicago to Denver to Baltimore and then to North
Carolina and on to Toronto. At some point, the suitcases were separated each
going its own merry way alone. Poor suitcases. (I wish they could talk and tell
me about their trip). Finally, on Thursday, the third day of the
couple’s adventure, they were advised that the suitcases were now together
again in Chicago and should go to Calgary and then on to Banff by Shabbos. They
would be informed by phone to claim their belongings.
Although Hubby
explained to them that they would not answer the phone on Shabbos and that the
suitcases could be left at the desk, the message was not enough (more later).
On Thursday, she accepted that the whole situation was obviously a message from
Hashem, an opportunity for her to accept the challenge and use it as a growing
experience. So, off they went on Thursday’s tour, and they both had a wonderful
day. When they got back to the hotel, the Instacart bag was there. Some of the
items (his order) were a bit more usable than others. Oh well! Suddenly, she
had a small panic attack when it dawned on her that Hubby would be going to davening
on Shabbos in the shirt, pants, jacket, and cap he had been wearing all week. Oh
my!
She mentioned
this to one of the other guests, who immediately called her sister who was
joining the group for Shabbos. The sister was already in the car on the way to
Newark Airport from Monsey. She immediately replied that she’d figure something
out and asked for the husband’s size. On Friday, erev Shabbos, she
handed the husband a bag with two Shabbos shirts, a beautiful tie, and a chasidishe
rekel (three-quarter length jacket). (The sister in Banff apparently thought
the couple was chasidish.) The sister from Monsey had ordered the clothing
from a men’s clothing store in Monsey, had it ubered to Newark, and waited for
it at the entrance to the terminal. Mind you she did all this with a dislocated
shoulder in a sling. Again, mi
k’amcha Yisrael!
The couple went on
another beautiful day of touring on Friday, psyched out that this was a
learning experience that they could grow from and that they had so much to be
grateful for. When they arrived back at the hotel, they picked up the Monsey package,
and everyone had a good laugh about the “reckel.” Meanwhile, the group’s
chat was busy with offers for Shabbos attire for her. A very gracious lady from
Brooklyn offered a lovely skirt, shell, and jacket, with a second jacket as an
optional choice. The outfit fit perfectly. She accepted it gratefully. Another
lovely lady, from Far Rockaway, offered a dress for Shabbos day. Again, it was
tailor made.
Hubby got
dressed in his fresh new shirt, beautiful tie, and chasidishe reckel
and topped it off with his baseball cap. After the couple got dressed – and right
before Shabbos – they sent a picture to the family chat. Their children all
went into Shabbos very proud that their parents were quite clearly handling the
situation so well and that they were rising above with the assistance of their
fellow travelers. They really were, and I must say, they looked adorable.
On motza’ei
Shabbos, they were informed that the luggage was indeed in Calgary and that the
delivery service was waiting to hear from them. Once again, the husband
instructed the front desk to accept the luggage, and he signed a waiver that
would enable them to go on Sunday’s tour and not have to wait for the suitcases
to actually arrive. Lo and behold, the suitcases which arrived in Banff
separately, were in their room Sunday night.
They both felt
amazing when they wore fresh clothing on Monday. They had passed the test,
lesson learned, with smiles on their faces, truly grateful for all their
blessings. And now it was time for the young-at-heart-but-a-bit-more-worn-out-from-their-experience
couple, to return home.
* * *
After I wrote
this article, I did some deep soul searching and had a few thoughts to add.
I’ve written a few articles before on similar themes of appreciation. One
article that comes to mind is the one about not feeling “stuck” in Eretz Yisrael
after October 7. I realized that it is easier to feel that way when one has one’s
own apartment in Yerushalayim with children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren
nearby. So, I would like to apologize to the people who might have felt that
they were indeed “stuck.” I am truly grateful to the Eibishter (G-d) that
we did not feel that way.
Another
thought on the Banff trip was its proximity to the Nine Days. Did I truly feel
and acknowledge how deeply we should realize our loss of the Beis Hamikdash and
our true home? Should we not always feel like travelers without our belongings,
wanderers in a place far from home?
I certainly
need to feel that more keenly. A second thought that occurred to me was how
clearly it was shown to us – air tags notwithstanding – that every one of us is
always in Hashem’s hands; only He controls everything that happens. Maybe those
were the lessons we needed to learn and to think about on this trip. Thank you,
Hashem, for these lessons, hopefully well learned. Thank you for all our
blessings and for reminding us that, despite all our belongings and all our
opportunities to experience His beautiful world, we are still in Galus,
waiting to come home.
