Reconnecting on Yom Kippur

It wasn't kapparos
It wasn't the pre Yom Kippur dip in the Mikvah
It wasn't the meaningful fast
It wasn't the chazan's beautiful cantelations.
It wasn't my Rabbi's moving d'var torah.
It wasn't the soul searching Tshuvah filled davening.
It wasn't seeing every chair at my shul filled with people.
It wasn't Kol Nidre
It wasn't the tearful reading of the 10 martyrs.
It wasn't the avodah service.
It wasn't Neilah
It wasn't admiring the sanity of the Torahs dressed in white.

For me this year, Yom Kippur was all about being able to gently convince my Jewish neighbor, that being in shul, and experience Judaism again with a fresh traditional look was the right thing to do on what would have been a "typical Monday in October". It all started when we casually found out She was Jewish, and that her youngest daughter had a desire to "Learn". Not needing to say more, we invite her and her family over for Shabbos dinner before Yom Kippur.

On Yom Kippur, seeing her walk though our shul's doors before we got started with mincha (with her three children) was very moving. After services, hearing how proud she was that her son got an Aliyah, was more then I could have ever hoped for. Baruch Hashem may she and her family return for a Shabbat service.

Sometimes I wonder, if my self imposed exile in Galut is worth it. It's hard for me. Being Shomer Shabbas/Mitzvot and living in an area on Pennsylvania that I'm often mistaken for Amish guy. How much easier and beautiful would it be to live in a Frum Community.

But today, as I put up my sukkah, I contemplate how many Jewish friends I can invite to dine in my sukkah and Shake my Lulav/Esrog. Jewish souls who never experienced a sukkah before. Who have never held, yet alone seen a Lulav/esrog.

If I can get one soul to reconnect... then my self imposed exile is all worth it.