Just call me Chaviva

I think it's interesting that that last post -- about how I know I'm not living how I want to live and know I should be living -- was post No. 613. Yes, that's the assumed number of commandments in Torah. Fascinating stuff, I think. But I have a point to this oh-so-soon-after-the-last-post post.

A friend/colleague/fellow graduate student revealed to me today a Rosh Hashanah miracle. This friend lives about six miles off campus and is a religious Jew. He was debating what to do for the holidays since he usually mopeds in and out of campus, but it being the holidays he was left to either observe at home or to walk in and out, which would be, well, pretty rough. So Tuesday morning, he completed his prayers at home, thinking that on Wednesday he would trek into campus to hear the shofar and then hitch a ride back home after sunset when RH was over. As he completed his prayers, he heard a noise that sounded strangely like a shofar.

Now, I have to point out that this friend lives out essentially in the woods where properties are separated by lots of brush and tall trees -- it isn't often that you see your neighbors, let alone hear them.

So this friend leaves his house, starts trekking through the property toward the sound, and lo and behold, he discovers a boy blowing the shofar on his neighbor's property. As it turns out, this friends neighbors are Jewish and were blowing the shofar for Rosh Hashanah, and thus my friend, lucky he was, heard the shofar -- a mighty, mighty mitzvah -- and didn't have to trek to campus. They also invited him back for Shabbat and what have you, which is such a marvelous thing for my friend who observes alone at home because of the distance to campus.

This, folks, is an example of G-d providing. I have a firm faithfulness in G-d that He will come through in such situations, and my friend's Rosh Hashanah miracle is a textbook case.