The King of Kings
My father holds a prestigious government position in New
York. He is an Orthodox Jew who has never gone to campaign
events on Shabbos and has always ordered special, glatt
kosher meals for the dinners that he has to attend. Our home
has always been full of both secular Jews and even non-
Jewish guests, for as long as I can remember. I watched how
my father treated each person with respect and warmth, and I
learned how to interact with many different kinds of people.
However, being a part of both the secular and the religious
world is a tricky balance. There were times when my father
was given such honor and power that I wondered how he managed
not to be overcome by that world altogether.
When I was fourteen-years-old, something happened that I will
never forget. My father's father passed away, and because of
my father's position, the shivah was an enormous
affair. There were hundreds of people going in and out of our
house that week, and by the time Shabbos came, my family was
exhausted. That afternoon, my father took off his clothes of
mourning and changed into his Shabbos suit. I got ready to go
to shul with him. My mother lit the candles, and my
sisters began to set the table. All of a sudden, there was a
knock at the door. When I opened it, I was shocked to see the
governor and his wife at our door. He had come to pay a
condolence call. I invited them inside, and I will never
forget the conversation that ensued when my father came down
the stairs.
"We are so sorry for your loss." The governor began.
"I thank you so much for coming, but we don't sit in mourning
on the Sabbath. And since Shabbos is arriving, I must go to
the synagogue to pray."
And with that, he escorted the governor and his wife out to
their waiting car. Then he motioned for me to begin walking
with him to shul. We hurried along the busy streets
and finally I asked.
"Dad, how can you do that? That was the governor! Won't he be
upset?"
"Daniel, I want you to listen to me very carefully. And
remember this. That may have been the governor, but the King
of Kings is awaiting our presence, and we must not be
late."
And with that, we walked into the shul in time for the
mourners to enter, and I saw my father wipe away a tear as he
said:
"Your Zeidy is kvelling now in Shomayim."
And then he walked to his seat, and stood as straight as a
prince. He was truly a son of the King of Kings.
