Happy Rosh Hashanah
When I was 18, I lived in Montreal, Quebec.
It was a life-changing episode for me. Here I was a kid from a rural Tennessee town and then I was flung into a city of more than three million people from different cultures and backgrounds.
It was a time of discovery.
I realize now what a rube I was, but I did learn a lot.
Especially about Passover and Rosh Hashanah.
My best friend was a Jewish girl about a year older than me whose name was Natalie.
She had an older brother named Scott, who while I was there was planning to go and serve with the Israeli Army.
I didn't get it. My Presybetarin ways didn't prepare me that this guy was going to go be a soldier and that it was the right thing for him to go do.
I get it now. His faith was guiding him to do this, and I respect that. It was something he wanted to do.
Anyway, Nat's family was awesomely cool, and I saw things I'd never seen before. I went to temple with them. She ate real Fried Chicken the first time.
Maybe we learned from each other although her gift to me was much greater than my gift of greasy poultry to her.
So anyway, Happy Rosh Hashanah.
And thanks to Sharon Cobb
for reminding me that the gifts of learning new things are the greatest gifts of all.