The Short Vort by Rabbi Eisenman

The man on the line sounded desperate.

"Ich darf a Minyan fur Mincha,"- he blurted out, "I need a minyan for mincha."

"I am at this place called American Dream, and it's time for Mincha, and I need a minyan. Can you help me?"

For those outside the New York area, American Dream is a mall located in the Meadowlands and is the second-largest mall in the United States.

It's a popular site for Chol HaMoed trips, Sunday outings, and many other adventures.

It has a Kosher food court and even stores that cater to the fashion needs of the frum community.

It features 450 retail shops, an indoor ski slope, two miniature 18-hole golf courses, an aquarium, an ice rink, a water park, and Nickelodeon Universe, among many other attractions.

In short, one can spend hours walking among the six atriums, enjoying the extensive garden while marveling at the 60-foot fashion fountain.

However, none of these shops, sites, and sounds held little "attraction" for my caller.

Above the background din, I again heard the caller say, "My wife brought me to a place called the "American Dream"; however, for me, it's all a bad dream. I heard your Shul is not far from here. Can I get the Amud for the 7:20 Mincha? I am a Chiyuv. Are you the gabbai?"

Haltingly, I answered, "Yes"- as indeed, sometimes, when the need is there, I do fill in as gabbai.

Yankel was thrilled he reached the "gabbai."

"Baruch Hashem, you're the gabbai. The machine said, "Press one for Rabbi Eisenman; I would never bother a Rav with this issue."

I decided not to disclose my true position.

"There will be a Minyan, and if there is no Chiyuv, you can have the Amud."

"Sh’Koyach, I am on my way."

About twenty minutes later, the phone rang.

"Reb Gabbai, this is Yankel, I am the Yid from the American Dream.

I am in front of your Shul; where should I park?"

What am I, a parking attendant? I thought to myself.

"Reb Gabbai, my wife wants me back in twenty minutes, I never missed a Kaddish, and it's 7:18; please help me."

Although I was starting to like my new title, it did not afford me any protectzia regarding parking spots. (Editor's note: No, there is no Rabbi Parking Spot at the Ahavas)

Yankel was getting desperate. "Efsher ken der gabbai mir helfen un ich ken helfen dem gabbai?

(Maybe the gabbai can help me, and I can help the gabbai?)

Feeling his desperation and relishing the opportunity to play gabbai, I said, " Stay where you are. I am coming."

I exited the Shul and, sans jacket and hat, spotted New York plates and Yankel at the wheel.

I approached the window and said, "R' Yankel?" The man nodded.

I ordered him out of the car and said, "Yankel, gei davenen."

I took over the wheel of his stylishly dented blue minivan circa 2003.

After clearing away half-finished bags of Paskez Noshkes (both BBQ and Onion Rings) and accidentally squashing a large bag of Zum Zum, I circled the block for twenty minutes.

I delivered the car back to the front of the Shul as Mincha finished.

"Sh'Koyach! " Yankel said with a big smile as he handed me a twenty-dollar bill.

I declined the tip and wished him well on his return trip to the American Dream.

As he was about to drive off, Yankel opened his window and asked, "By the way, the recording said the rabbi's name is Eisenman. There is an Eisenman who writes for Mishpacha? My wife loves his columns. (a comment I frequently hear- it's always the wife!) He would love such a Maaseh; it's exactly his type of story! This story would be great for his column. What do you say?"

"Yes," I said with a smile; this story would be perfect for his column.