The strange, funny and meaningful things that happen out in the trenches as Chabad representatives go about their business . . .
Mushka Minkowitz, Chevy Chase, MD
It was the morning of Purim, and we had things organized and under control. The tables were set up beautifully in a party hall that we had rented for our Purim bash, and at five o’clock sharp, people began to arrive. It was a rainy day, and lo and behold, it began to pour. Making matters worse, the building that we rented for our Purim party is near a creek. And on this Purim day, the creek was flooding. Still, we were hoping that we’d be able to remain here and enjoy the party that we’d been planning and preparing over the last few weeks. But soon the water began seeping into the hall. By 5:45 it was rising to levels that seemed unsafe. This hall had a history of flood catastrophes, so we made a snap decision to move the party to our house. Together with our guests, we threw all the necessary food and supplies into boxes, loaded them into our cars, drove through the water that had overflowed into the parking lot, and headed to our home.
Let me explain that the only way we managed to get our party ready was because I gave my kids a pass that day. Today, I told them, they could stay at home and make a mess because the party was to be at the rented hall, so no one would be popping in while the house was a mess.
I braced myself as I unlocked the door and saw the mess. My heart sank for a moment, but with forty-five guests behind me, and an adrenaline rush that told me this will happen one way or another, I turned around and waved my guests in: “Let’s party!” I said.
Everyone helped out, the vibe was heimish, the food was good. After the megillah reading, they devoured the sesame chicken. The house was crowded. And messy. Not quite the elegant party we had prepared for, but more beautiful and special in many other ways.
This article appears in the Tishrei issue of Lubavitch International. Subscribe to the magazine here.