The Laundromat Synagogue

“North Bay?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“North Bay? Of all the places in the world. Can’t you find a job here in Toronto?”

“No, Mom. I’m a geologist specializing in old mines. Do you see any old mines here in Thornhill?

“Promise me one thing, son. Synagogue. Join a synagogue. Perhaps you’ll find a young lady there.” I gave her a big hug and went home to pack.

North Bay as it turned out did have a few Jewish families but no synagogue. And although we had the ten necessary males to congregate in prayer, there was no place to congregate in.

Mr. Levy suggested his laundromat. A laundromat? But after some deliberation it didn’t sound like such a bad idea. Cleaning clothes and cleansing souls. Mr. Levy hung a sign on the door. “Sorry, folks, the laundromat is closed Friday evenings from six to eight p.m. and Saturday mornings from seven a.m. to nine a.m. to allow the Jewish community to pray. I hope you will understand.”

And so it began.  I was able to borrow an old but kosher Torah scroll from my previous synagogue in Toronto. We would daven among the smells of the laundry soap and fabric softener.

One Friday evening, in the middle of the prayer welcoming the Shabbat, there was a knock at the door. It was a very pretty young woman, carrying a dress.

“I’m sorry, I know that you’re praying but I need to have this dress washed and ready for tonight. It’s an emergency. You seem like a very nice gentleman,” she continued. “Please let me in.”

I looked at my fellow Jews, shrugged and opened the door. The machine whirred while we prayed. I should say everyone but me. I was wondering why she needed to wash the dress so urgently, who she was, and other thoughts not fit for a Jew during the Sabbath prayer.

When prayer was over, I lingered while the young lady dried and pressed the dress. “What is the urgency?, I asked.

“I have the annual event with my company this evening. I was going to call in sick but at the last moment decided to go. I have nothing else to wear. I also have no date. You seem nice and I can see you’re not wearing a ring. Perhaps you’d like to accompany me.”

She smiled. Her teeth gleamed. I looked up to the heavens, I looked down at this heavenly creature. I remembered the words of my mother. “Perhaps you’ll find a young lady there.” This must have been ordained.

So yes, I did keep my promise to my mother. And yes, I did marry the young lady from the synagogue laundromat. And yes we now have three lovely children who celebrate Hannuka. And Christmas.