by Mr. Michael B. of Brooklyn Heights
Once there were three turtles, large, medium and small, who decided to go enjoy a picnic in the park. They made sandwiches, packed up a picnic basket and made their way to the park. When they got there they realized they forgot the mustard. Oy! Who should go back to get the mustard? The large and middle turtle argued back and forth, each pushing the other to go, until they decided to get the smallest turtle to go back and get the mustard. The smallest turtle reluctantly agreed but wanted to be reassured that they wouldn’t eat the sandwiches until he got back. They promised him they would wait and off he went.
They waited a few hours, then a day, days turned into weeks, then into years and decades, centuries passed, galaxies were born and died, and finally the large turtle turns to the medium turtle, “The little turtle has been gone a really long time. Don’t you think it’s time we ate the sandwiches?”
At that, the small turtle popped out from behind a rock and shouted, “Aha, I knew I couldn’t trust you! No way that I am going!”
Many life decisions are about going or not going, staying or leaving – which is what brings me to my Gedalia Goomber tennis story this Friday.
I enjoy playing tennis and last year our team in Brooklyn qualified to play in the regional sectionals in Schenectady NY to determine who goes to the national tournament. But last year we couldn’t go. You need a full team to play and one member got sick, another just had a baby, so we couldn’t come up. This year we qualified again, but it turned out to be on my anniversary. My good wife knew how much this meant to me, so she encouraged me to go.
There are five rounds in this tournament. The schedule was to play two on Friday, two on Saturday and the last round on Sunday. I told my team captain that I could not play on Saturday because of the Sabbath, he understood and respected that so he had another team member come in just for the Saturday games. I made plans to come and celebrate Shabbat here at the Shabbos House with all of you.
On Friday morning it rained, so the first round was pushed off until later in the day. Plus, instead of playing in Schenectady as planned it was moved up to Saratoga, which is 30 miles further north. By the time the second round was getting underway it was quite late in the afternoon. I did the math, caluclating the length of the round and the distance to my Shabbos destination, and realized I would not be able to play. I told my team captain that I had to leave, because the second round was starting much later than the planned schedule and Shabbos was swiftly approaching.
(That’s where Gedalia Goomber comes in. He’s the fictional hero/character in the “Aint gonna work on Saturdays” song who drops whatever hes doing if the Sabbath is about to begin).
It wasn’t an easy thing to do, but tennis is a game, and Shabbos is Shabbos. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.