A story on the kindness of strangers

About a decade ago, I attended my very first bar mitzvah. The boy-now-man of honor was the son of a work colleague. I showed up promptly at the time specified on the invite and awkwardly started milling around the front lobby area of this local synagogue.

Now I went to Catholic school for most of my education. I didn’t have a Jewish friend until my senior year of high school, and he lived in a different state. I had never been to a bar or bat mitzvah. I mean, I had been to plenty of bars…just not bar mitzvahs.