08/14/2023 11:28:29 AM
Aug14
This past week at a local grocery store, my patience was running thin. The checkout boy clearly had no discernible skills when it came to identifying produce or any non-barcoded grocery. I was polite and all smiles on the outside, but seething on the inside. Ten minutes. How could someone so inept waste so much of my precious time?
When I got into the car, I then gave it some thought. What was wrong with me? The checkout boy was exactly that: a boy. He probably was a local high school student who had a job over the summer weekend. He was also someone else’s child. In a few years, I realized that the check-out boy could be Zev. Could I have even identified Kale as a high schooler? How could I be such a judgmental, impatient, yutz (I would have used another word, but this is a synagogue blog)?
Then, my mind began to wander. If I could show such empathy for this teenager, why couldn’t I demonstrate more empathy for people in general? It’s easy to judge when you haven’t walked a mile in someone else’s shoes. What about the woman who woke up early to get to the store to work her weekend job because her husband was out of work? Or, the person stacking shelves trying to get their life together after a traumatic incident?
We all carry more baggage with us than the bags that hold our groceries in the store. Perhaps, that’s why Jewish tradition teaches us that we should judge everyone just a little more favorably (dan lekaf zechut). Any one person on the other side of the checkout counter deserves a little compassion, and as I will try to work on, a little more of my patience.
Mon, May 6 2024
28 Nisan 5784
Rabbi Daniel Dorsch
Mon, May 6 2024 28 Nisan 5784
