One Word That Impacted 2 Jewish Customers in Virginia

By Fay Kranz-Greene for COLlive.com

As every Chabadnick knows, no one can predict exactly what program, what song, what speech, what Mitzvah, what word will strike a chord in another person’s heart.

It’s almost like when we make dinner, we never know for sure which of our kids will eat it.

The same is with speech. An innocent word said at the wrong time; a genuine compliment said at the right time; a silence when a few words would have been so very welcome.

We all know how powerful words are! We all know that words can make or break someone’s day and sometimes they can actually destroy a fragile psyche.

I would like to share a little story that happened to me recently, that shows how one insignificant little word can actually pierce someone’s heart for the good.

During the past 6 weeks, I have been with my children in a little town in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. It is spectacularly beautiful here in every way. Towering mountain vistas, gorgeous trees and flowers, blue skies, deer families on the roads, hopping cottontail rabbits everywhere. The neighbors are immediately friendly and it is an almost forgotten tranquil way of life.

There’s only thing missing: any semblance of Jewish life. There are very few Jews here and consequently, there is no Shul of any denomination.

One Friday morning, my daughter and I were shopping at the local Dollar Store with all the kids in tow. I told them to choose what they want (I am very generous in a Dollar store…) and they were roaming the aisles. But every few minutes one of them would ask, “Bubby, can I have this? Bubby, can we buy that?” etc.

After about 15 minutes of shopping, a woman walks over to me and says: “Do you know how long it’s been since I heard the word Bubby?”

I said, “you’re Jewish?”

She said yes and we start to talk. She and her husband live not too far away. They have been here for years and have not seen many Jews around. I said, “would you like to come to our house for Shabbos dinner?” and she says “yes, we would love that.” I took her phone number and said my daughter would call her.

When I told the story to my daughter, she immediately picked up the phone and invited her for Shabbos lunch. We weren’t sure they would actually come, but sure enough, Shabbos afternoon there was a knock on the door. We welcomed them warmly and they joined us at the table.

Someone asked her husband if he was retired. “No siree,” he said, “I’m still working, I’m a weaver.” We asked him what he weaves and were quite surprised at the answer. “I weave Taleisim,” he said.

In this tiny town, there is a Jewish couple who are not observant, but the wife gets choked up about hearing the word “Bubby” and the husband weaves Taleisim. What are the chances?

But the story is not yet over. About a week or so later, we went to a farmer’s market in the area. Again we took the kids with us and again they (loudly) wanted everything they saw.

We were already getting ready to leave when a young woman comes over to me and says: “I can’t tell you how much pleasure it gave me when I heard your grandkids calling you Bubby. Do you know how long it’s been since I heard that word?”

Needless to say, we took her number too and are waiting to see which Shabbos she can join us.

There apparently are some Jewish families here… They don’t publicly practice their Yiddishkeit, but all it took was one simple word to rekindle their neshama. That word was “Bubby!” and I am ever so proud to be one.