You have nowhere to go on Passover, so you host a Seder on the Lower East Side with a bunch of goys. A year later, you write about it. Three years later, you re-post the essay on Facebook. What happens next?
1) People think you’re
pathetic smart for posting such a dated stellar piece of work.
2) Jews take such pity on you that it garners you an invitation to your favorite Cantor’s house for a lovely Passover Seder.
3) An extremely thoughtful friend decides to pass it along to this guy, a complete stranger who lives in Munich.
What happens next?
2) A few months later you get a letter from a
freak perfectly lovely man but ignore it.
3) A few months later said man decides to write you a letter. You write back. This leads to many, many, many more letters.
Those letters lead to what?
2) Lots of Skype calls, which eventually lead to a face-to-face meeting here.
3) Lots of Skype calls, which eventually lead to a first face-to-face meeting in this.
Which eventually leads to what?
2) The realization that a cross-Atlantic courtship is an idiotic venture.
Answer: 3, down the line (except for the first question — the Cantor did invite me to dinner). Let’s just say that when I published this essay three years ago, I never ever, ever, ever imagined it would end in love.
Passover is now my favorite holiday. May yours be full of joy, health, family, friends, & a full heart.