Botched Plans
“Failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine,” has new meaning to me.
We, Baruch Hashem (thank God), had a simcha (happy occasion) to attend on Shabbos in Toronto, Canada. The next afternoon, my daughter had a wedding to attend in New York for a close friend, so we booked an early flight Sunday morning.
We planned it out. We mostly packed the car the night before, and planned to leave at 5am. With only a 15-minute drive to the airport, that should be fine for a 7:30 flight, right? Well, we didn’t exactly get out when we thought we would, which cost us precious time. Then there was another issue.
When I used my GPS to get to the rental car location, I didn’t realize there were two of them, one in each terminal. We dropped off the car and began walking to the departure area but it looked different. We finally saw a sign indicating we had to be in the other, international, terminal! (I offer full disclosure in hopes that someone else traveling through YYZ might be spared some agita.)
Too Late
We hopped on the shuttle to the other terminal and made it to check-in 85 minutes before our flight. Though in Newark, my airline’s baggage cut-off is 60 minutes before an international flight, only later did I find out that in Toronto, they require 90 minutes.
The kiosk said, “Bags too late for check-in, please see agent.” My daughter, who had been a nervous wreck before, now burst into tears. I ran to the counter and the woman said, “I’m sorry, sir, you’re too late. I can’t check the bags in.” I said, “You must be able to do something.” She said, “Yes, I’m rescheduling you on a later flight.” Wait! You can’t do that!
“NO.” I said, “I HAVE to get on this flight.” She told me I could wait for her supervisor, which I said I would. My daughter was freaking out. Beyond frustrated, I snapped, “Say some Tehillim.” When I turned back to the woman, looking for the supervisor, she was printing tags including one that was bright yellow and said, “URGENT” on it. She said, “Leave your bags here and I will check them in. But, if they don’t make the flight you’ll have to claim them.”
Trusted Traveler?
We left the bags and raced to the area for Customs. In Toronto, you go through U.S. Customs before you leave. There was a sign for Global Entry, a special “trusted traveler” program my family has signed up for, and we headed there. I’d been there before so I knew what to do – or so I thought. The woman at the door said, “You need to have the Global Entry card.” Now, Global Entry is attached to your passport, and I’d never been asked for the card before. I told her we didn’t have them.
“Ok,” she said, motioning to where we’d come from. “So, you just have to go back all the way around…” I cut her off. “We’re going to miss our flight.” She said, “Look at all these people ahead of you.” I don’t have to tell you what my daughter’s face looked like at that moment, as once again, the specter of the missed wedding reared its ugly head. Then, a moment later, the woman softened, and said, “Let me see your boarding passes.” I showed them to her and she scanned them. Then, she walked us inside, opened the retractable belt divider by the lines, and directed us to the front, bypassing the entire line.
The Gates of Tears
Our bags were X-rayed, and then we ran to the room where U.S. Customs and Border Protection interviews everyone coming into the country. The line was probably 100 people long, but Baruch Hashem, Global Entry had its own line, and only a handful of people were ahead of us. The agent was pleasant and soon we were through. I even had enough time to daven at our gate before boarding.
Now, this is stressful for me to write as I relive each event, but one overarching message came through to me. “The gates of tears are never closed.” (Berachot 32b)
Why did the baggage agent have a sudden change of heart and take the bags? (They do have discretion to make exceptions. I know from past experience.) I think it was seeing my daughter with tears coursing down her cheeks. What about the woman who not only allowed us to enter the special area without the cards, but put us to the head of the line? Same thing.
While they could rightfully have said, “This is your own fault,” and refused to help, allowing us to suffer the consequences of our failures, they saw the tearful remorse and opened the gates for us.
For Crying Out Loud
We’re mere weeks from Rosh Hashana, when Hashem will be able to tell us, “You were warned ahead of time; this is out of My hands.” We wrote our own entries in the Book of Life or, perhaps, someplace else. But one thing can save us. Sincere, powerful, regret and pain for our past actions. Recognizing what we could and should have done differently, and the determination not to repeat the mistakes.
When that happens, it’s no longer, “not My problem.” Hashem takes into account our tears and gives us another chance. We should never be ashamed to come back to Him, or, for crying out loud.
Epilogue: I’m usually very well-prepared, and I sincerely think the reason Hashem orchestrated these events was so I could gain this insight, and share it with all of you. Hopefully, you can learn from my experiences and not have to live through them on your own. Now, when it comes to Rosh Hashana, or even earlier, you’ll know just what to do. And yes, I’ll leave earlier next time.
By Rabbi Jonathan Gewirtz
Rabbi Gewirtz (Operation Inspiration) welcomes comments and feedback. Write to him at info@JewishSpeechWriter.com to share your thoughts. You never know when you may be the lamp that enlightens someone else.
