Almost every adult can recall a second grade, middle, or high school teacher that changed their lives forever. As Jewish adults we also can point to a Rabbi who made an impact on our lives as children, or as in my case, as late bloomers. Whether it was as a child or later in life as an adult, these lessons usually come from wizened men with full bodied beards and caring eyes. So it was with disbelief that my most recent spiritual lesson came from two 6 year olds that stand just over four and a half feet tall.
Like many late bloomers, I am not a master of reading Hebrew. I can, as they say, get by, but the only way to gain real proficiency is to practice. And there lies the rub. I am fine when it comes to the weekday davening, because with the exception of holidays, the text of the weekday morning, afternoon and evening davening doesn’t change much from day to day. Over time, the repetition of each service enables you to become more confident and competent with the Hebrew words and one day you are stunned to see you can keep up with the experienced readers. The day you finish Ashrai with the entire congregation is always a day to remember.
But the Shabbos morning service is much more challenging. First of all you only read it once a week, Secondly, the text is much longer and involves prayers you simply don’t say during the weekday davening. Now unless you practice the Shabbos morning prayers during the week, you simply don’t develop the same proficiency as you do with the weekday payers.
So over the years I have found myself reading the English words when I fall behind. Obviously I am more comfortable and proficient with the English, so I tend to use it as a crutch when I get behind. It is a catch 22 because if I don’t practice the Hebrew I don’t get better, but if I read the entire Hebrew text I fall way behind. Being a competitive guy I hate falling behind, so I am embarrassed to admit that up until a few weeks ago, I took the easy way out and read the English text when I found myself falling behind.
To tell you the truth I was comfortable with this situation until one of the Cunin triplets, Chana, rushed up to me a few minutes into the Shabbos morning service and asked me to show her where we were in the Siddur. I looked at her with superior eyes and pointed to page 159 of the Siddur. With the questioning eyes only a child possesses she looked up at me and said, “Why are you pointing to the English words.” Quicker than you can say, “More Kugel please” I blushed a scarlet red and pointed to the Hebrew text on the right hand page and babbled some incoherent explanation. As Hanna scurried away I couldn’t get her question out of my mind. Here was a small child, standing in front of me, asking me an honest and sincere question. Why indeed I asked myself. “Because it is easier this way,” I answered myself. Echoing the words of numerous Chabad Rabbis I’ve met over the years I asked myself, “Since when is the easy way the right way I?”
Just as I was contemplating this perplexing dilemma I heard a small deep, throated voice off to my left. The voice was slowly and methodically sounding out the Hebrew words to the prayers I was supposed to be reading. The voice was annunciating every letter, every syllable with great care and clarity. As I looked up from my Siddur, Hanna’s 6 year-old brother Moshe was standing proudly next to his father, Rabbi Mendel Cunin, reading the last line of each of the Psalms in the first part of the Shabbos service. Without a moment’s hesitation, self-consciousness or inhibition Moshe proudly sounded out the words for all to hear. As he came to the conclusion of each line he annunciated the last word of each sentence with gusto and an arm pump that would make golfer Tiger Woods proud.
As the weeks went on Moshe gained confidence and his speed noticeably increased. He obviously spent time with his father practicing the davening, gaining greater skill and proficiency along the way. One Saturday morning as my Dad and I strolled along the two mile walk to Shul my mind wandered away and I started to think about Moshe and his passion for davening. I couldn’t help by wonder why I, a 52 year young man, was so reluctant to follow Mosihe’s example and start reading the Hebrew text for Shabbos as well.
Truthfully, other than admitting I was a little lazy, I couldn’t come up with a good answer. So as we passed the halfway point of our journey I turned to my Dad and told him that beginning today I was going to be just like Moshe and start reading nothing but the Hebrew words. When we arrived at Shul I was determined not to take the easy way out and revert back to the English text.
When the davening began I found myself falling behind almost immediately. The old fear of being left behind began to creep into my brain. I was about to start reading the English text when I heard that distinctive deep, throaty melodious voice drift into my ears. Like a powerful energizing force Moshe’s rendition of the Hebrew text pulled me back to my pledge and I began to recite the Hebrew. In order to keep up I started reading as much of the beginning of each paragraph as I could until I heard Moshe start reading the last line of the paragraph. I’d jump to the last line as well and we’d finish together. I would quickly go to the next line and read as fast as I could. This ‘competition’ between the 52 year old and the 6 year old was all in my mind but it compelled me to push myself beyond my perceived limitations. When Moshe started the last line I’d drop down to join him. In this way I could keep up with the service and read as much Hebrew as possible.
Over the last month my speed has improved dramatically. In most cases I am almost done with each paragraph when Moshe begins his recitation. We now finish each paragraph at about the same time and I mentally share his arm pump to emphasize the last word. But I have to admit that while my speed and proficiency have improved so has Moshe’s. I’ve accepted the fact that it will only be a matter of time before I am struggling to keep up with him as he zips through the Hebrew. But to tell you the truth that’s okay with me. No one ever said the student had to be better or faster than the teacher. Moshe may soon surpass me in skill, speed, and proficiency but all is not lost. I am still faster than his younger brother Dovid who as I write this is 6 months old. I figure if I work hard, practice and stay committed I will have a good four years to get ready for my new teacher.
Come to think of it, four years may not be long enough. I better go practice.
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