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Shloimy's Shabbos Guest

Ages 6-9 | Story and 9 activities

When Shloimy comes home from shul on Friday night, there is a stranger at the Shabbos table.

He is an older man with a white beard and a faded gray hat. He sits very still, his hands folded, with a plate of challah in front of him.

"Shloimy," says Totty. "This is Reb Moshe. He's joining us for Shabbos. He's new in town."

Shloimy stares. In his house, guests are usually uncles and cousins. He doesn't know this man at all.

"Hello," says Reb Moshe, in a quiet voice. "Good Shabbos."

"Good Shabbos," mumbles Shloimy. He slides into his chair and keeps his eyes on the table.

All through the soup, he sneaks glances at Reb Moshe. The old man eats very slowly. He doesn't say much. When Mommy asks him a question, he answers politely, but briefly.

Shloimy feels awkward. What do you say to a stranger? What does he like? Is he lonely? He isn't sure whether to talk to him or leave him alone.

Then Reb Moshe takes out a small silver case, and carefully opens it. Inside are pictures. He holds one up to the candlelight, and a little smile appears on his face.

Shloimy leans in. "Who's that?"

"This is my granddaughter," says Reb Moshe. "Her name is Leah. She's your age. She lives in Israel."

"What's she like?"

Reb Moshe's face softens. "She loves to bake. She sends me pictures of her challah. It's not as good as your mother's, but she's getting there."

Shloimy laughs. "Does she write to you?"

"Every week. I read her letters on Friday afternoons."

"Do you miss her?"

"Very much," says Reb Moshe. "That's why I came here, actually, to be closer to my son, who lives a few streets away. But he's traveling this Shabbos."

Shloimy suddenly understands. Reb Moshe has come to a new town, and his family is away, and he is all alone for Shabbos. And Totty has invited him.

"You can tell us about Israel," says Shloimy. "I've never been. Is it hot?"

Reb Moshe's eyes light up. "Oh, hot as an oven in summer. But in the evening, the sun turns the whole city golden. The stones in Yerushalayim glow like honey."

For the rest of the meal, the table is alive with stories. Reb Moshe talks about the Kosel at dawn, the street markets, a bakery that sells rugelach as big as your hand. Shloimy's little sister begs for more. Even Totty puts down his fork to listen.

After bentching, Shloimy brings out the board games. "Do you play checkers, Reb Moshe?"

"I used to be the champion of my yeshiva."

"Bet I can beat you."

"We'll see."

They play three games. Reb Moshe wins two, and Shloimy wins one. The last one is close.

When it is time for bed, Reb Moshe stands in the doorway of the guest room. "Thank you for making an old man feel at home."

"You're welcome," says Shloimy. "You can come again."

"I'd like that very much."

The next Friday night, Shloimy sets an extra place at the table, just in case.