On Thursday I had the distinct pleasure to drive to St. Augustine, FL for a Bris.
I don't typically drive 300 miles for a Bris. But in my last few excursions to Jacksonville and Gainesville between the flight delays and just the less-than-thrilling general airport experience I thought it might take less time to drive. And so I did.
As it turned out, many thousands of flights were canceled that day, so who knows if I'd have gotten the ax from an airline. I didn't hit any rain, but I did drive through this ominous sky.
Beyond that the Bris was a very intimate affair. The parents had fascinating backgrounds, very un-run-of-the-mill, and even current professions quite out of the ordinary.
For me it is very heartwarming to find Jews who are doing their thing, not exactly on the radar of a classical Jewish community (though with membership in a Reform Temple, one need not live close by), who want to have a traditional Bris with a mohel.
It is an honor to make the trip. I am so glad life has put me in a position to service this need for Jews everywhere. And the trust parents put in my mohel-skills is an honor I cherish at every Bris.
