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“Yes! We’re rabbis and we came here to see Mr. Kissinger. Are you Mrs. Kissinger?”
“Yes I am,” she said. “If you have anything for him, you can give it to me.”
We handed her a challah, explained who we were and then thanked her for her time, asking her to wish her husband a good shabbos on our behalf.
She drove off, but as we turned around to get back on to the small road that wound through the forest, we saw that she had stopped and was motioning for us to pull up next to her.
“Who sent you again?” she asked.
“We were sent by the Chabad rabbi here. We have calender with his number on it if you’d like.”
“Yes please,” Mrs. Kissinger said. “I’d appreciate it.”
We handed her the calendar. She turned the calendar over, and mumbled ‘Lubavitch’ — incorrectly putting the stress on the ‘u’ - to herself.
“Thank you again,” we said. “Please wish your husband a ‘good Shabbos’ for us.”
I often wonder where as Chabad yeshiva students, kids in our teens and early twenties, we get the chutzpah to approach Jewish celebrities, powerful business execs and politicians and ask them those famous words, “Would you like to do a mitzvah?”
(The “Excuse me sir, are you Jewish?” would have already addressed by a preliminary Wikipedia search).