For the last 10 years, Jack has walked through the doors of our Chabad house once a year: on the High Holidays. That’s it. He’ll smile, shake hands, and then disappear for the next 12 months.
Until he chanced upon my teenage son and a group of his yeshiva friends who set up a small folding table outside our Chabad house every Friday afternoon, offering passersby the opportunity to put on tefillin.
Jack, he said yes. Although the interaction was brief (he wrapped the tefillin, said Shema, and continued on with his day), something stayed with him.
So he came back the next Friday. And the Friday after that. It became a steady part of his week, anchoring him to something larger than himself.
Then the boys left for Israel to continue their studies and nobody else took over their Friday afternoon tefillin stand. If anyone else missed them, we don’t know, but Jack did. And he kept reaching out. Because once your soul tastes something real, it doesn't forget.
Sometimes I would go out specially, just to put on tefillin with him. Then Jack had an epiphany. “If I can't find the tefillin,” he decided, “then I'll become the one who brings them.” And so, with the help of our assistant rabbi, Rabbi Zalman Lew, Jack acquired his own pair of tefillin.
Now he isn’t limited to once a week or when he chances upon somebody with a pair who offers him the opportunity. Now he can put on tefillin, on his own, every single day, deepening his connection with Hashem.
When we launched our daily minyan this year, I asked Jack if he'd join us on Friday nights. He said yes, and hasn't missed a single one. He also attends Rabbi Lew's weekly Tuesday night Torah class, showing up just as faithfully.
Every Friday night when I see him in shul, I ask the same question: “Did you put on tefillin every day this week?”
And every week, without hesitation, he confirms: “Yes.”
My son and his friends thought they were helping people do a one-off mitzvah. They had no idea they were building a fire that would keep burning long after they were gone.
So often we have no idea of the lasting impact of our actions.
We think we invited someone for a one-off Shabbat meal. We may even forget about the visit entirely. But perhaps that person was so enamored with the experience that they started staying home on Friday nights instead of going out, maybe they started lighting Shabbat candles, or maybe they then invited someone else for Shabbat and kept the chain of inspiration going.
Nor do we see the lasting power of a kind and encouraging word. You never know what compliment will propel someone to overcome the next difficult thing that comes their way. Likewise, it’s easy to brush off a sharp word or sarcastic joke we make at another’s expense. What we don’t see is how that remark stays with them and shapes who they are and how they interact with the world.
Many people are quick to brush off the once-a-year Jews like Jack. But every time Jack came to High Holiday services, he was nourishing his soul and reviving his connection with the Creator. And after 10 years he was ready for the next step, tefillin, which led to becoming a regular at Friday night services … and who knows what’s next?
When it comes down to it, no mitzvah is small and no interaction is minimal. What we see is just the very beginning of what’s to come.