An outside glimpse of the Bar Mitzvah
This was written by Dave's best friend Gardner, a political reporter for the Austin American-Statesman, and given to The Boy mocked up as a newspaper column nestled into a faux Metro State front page. It is certainly (along with the Cthulhu ski mask) one of the coolest gifts he will ever receive in his life. Mmm, and I'm going to cry if I read it again.
Samuel Mintz inspires those celebrating him
In the Saturday morning light pouring through stained-glass windows-including one etched with a yellow Star of David, my daughter pointed out-the boy at the front of the room looked surprisingly relaxed.
Samuel Mintz faced everyone from a throne-like chair, black Beatles’ bangs neatly parted, a white shawl wrapping his shoulders, his head tipped sideways onto his crooked left fist.
Snooze-a-rama.
Yet then came the first of some 30 sing-song prayers, led by Rabbis Steven Folberg and Cookie Lea Olshein, who encouraged those not accustomed to being there to murmur or sing along.
Ya-da-la-la la-lei, Ya-da-la-la la-lei.
“… in the No that is really No, and the Yes that is really Yes.”
Soon Mintz rose to lead a round. His voice barely reached the microphone, but it was steady.
A moment later, he was joined by family members across generations as the Torah was brought into view. A gangly cousin lifted it high in the air.
A beat later, Mintz’s mother’s voice cracked as she read her salute: “May he be strong, but not tough.” His father’s voice hitched too as he read: “May he know there’s a great heritage to which he belongs… to those who have stood with us-“ His mother stopgapped: “-through the years.”
The congregants smiled at Mintz as he carried the Torah around the room. An old man groaned, sounding like a muffled foghorn.
Mintz soon faced everyone with a message playing off the Wilderness Tabernacle, a sacred place where God chose to meet His people, the Israelites, during the 40 years they wandered in the desert under Moses’ leadership. Nothing caught in Mintz’s throat as he said he was struck by how many items were donated for the tabernacle simply due to donors’ free will.
Moses, he said in wonder, “had to tell people to stop donating.”
Next Mintz sounded a nowadays’ note, saying he’s pitched in for the Sustainable Food Center and others who help the poor grow and obtain food.
Mintz noted the congregation has an annual food drive.
But what if Austin’s religious communities teamed to ensure a week-after-week flow of food, congregation by scheduled congregation?
“If we did this correctly, it could be great,” Mintz said.
No such teamwork’s in place now, according to the Capital Area Food Bank of Texas.
After Mintz spoke, Rabbi Folberg credited him with a thoughtfulness and graciousness inherited from his parents.
“You brought yourself into everything today", Folberg said.
Who knows what Mintz brings--or does--tomorrow?
For now, I’ll stick with what they say at Beth Israel: Mazel Tov
Samuel Mintz inspires those celebrating him
In the Saturday morning light pouring through stained-glass windows-including one etched with a yellow Star of David, my daughter pointed out-the boy at the front of the room looked surprisingly relaxed.
Samuel Mintz faced everyone from a throne-like chair, black Beatles’ bangs neatly parted, a white shawl wrapping his shoulders, his head tipped sideways onto his crooked left fist.
Snooze-a-rama.
Yet then came the first of some 30 sing-song prayers, led by Rabbis Steven Folberg and Cookie Lea Olshein, who encouraged those not accustomed to being there to murmur or sing along.
Ya-da-la-la la-lei, Ya-da-la-la la-lei.
“… in the No that is really No, and the Yes that is really Yes.”
Soon Mintz rose to lead a round. His voice barely reached the microphone, but it was steady.
A moment later, he was joined by family members across generations as the Torah was brought into view. A gangly cousin lifted it high in the air.
A beat later, Mintz’s mother’s voice cracked as she read her salute: “May he be strong, but not tough.” His father’s voice hitched too as he read: “May he know there’s a great heritage to which he belongs… to those who have stood with us-“ His mother stopgapped: “-through the years.”
The congregants smiled at Mintz as he carried the Torah around the room. An old man groaned, sounding like a muffled foghorn.
Mintz soon faced everyone with a message playing off the Wilderness Tabernacle, a sacred place where God chose to meet His people, the Israelites, during the 40 years they wandered in the desert under Moses’ leadership. Nothing caught in Mintz’s throat as he said he was struck by how many items were donated for the tabernacle simply due to donors’ free will.
Moses, he said in wonder, “had to tell people to stop donating.”
Next Mintz sounded a nowadays’ note, saying he’s pitched in for the Sustainable Food Center and others who help the poor grow and obtain food.
Mintz noted the congregation has an annual food drive.
But what if Austin’s religious communities teamed to ensure a week-after-week flow of food, congregation by scheduled congregation?
“If we did this correctly, it could be great,” Mintz said.
No such teamwork’s in place now, according to the Capital Area Food Bank of Texas.
After Mintz spoke, Rabbi Folberg credited him with a thoughtfulness and graciousness inherited from his parents.
“You brought yourself into everything today", Folberg said.
Who knows what Mintz brings--or does--tomorrow?
For now, I’ll stick with what they say at Beth Israel: Mazel Tov