David
I was driving up to Denton, TX from Austin last Friday morning. I am the president of the Tejas Storyteller’s Association and I had an executive board meeting to chair. If I start right after the morning traffic rush, and make a few strategic stops along the way to stretch my legs, I can usually be in Denton by late afternoon, even with a stop at my favorite Jewish deli, Carshon’s in Ft. Worth. Stopping there is like going back in time to my grandfather’s deli. I can almost hear my Uncle Julie and Uncle Irv as they banter with customers. The food is so similar, the setting so familiar. At least that’s where my thoughts were as I drove through Salado, Texas, and decided it was time to make a pit stop. I pulled off the interstate and made a U Turn off the access road to double back to Peterson’s Smoke House. They have incredible snacks, great coffee and clean facilities.
I had just finished with the saleswoman and she was adding up my purchases. A very nice looking gentleman said to her, “here, let me cover that for the Rabbi” as he handed her his credit card. I turned to see who said that and saw a very warm smile, a twinkle in his eye and a friendliness you could feel. I didn’t ask how he knew I was a rabbi. I was wearing a yamulke. He introduced himself and asked my name and if I was having a good day, in Hebrew. I asked where he had learned Hebrew. He answered, “ in Israel”.
He paid for his purchases after paying for mine and walked me to my car. We talked for a bit, standing there by my car. He wasn’t Jewish but he took prayer delegations to Israel to pray for the Rabbis and the country. He was expecting a group of Amish ministers that very day. They had all traveled to Israel for just this purpose. They were meeting in Salado to plan their next trip.
He asked if he could pray for me. I said yes. He prayed a lovely prayer in Hebrew asking HaShem to protect my car and me as I traveled to do “the work”. He seemed to know a lot about me. I didn’t give it a second thought though because sometimes these “happenings” are above our ken. He said that he sensed I had a heart as big as Texas. It made me stop short and think back to a wonderful doctor I once had in Austin, who told me the same thing when I first moved here from New Jersey. I made note of this, as it appeared to be a sign from HaShem that I was still fully intact, and inspite of health challenges, hadn’t lost my inner self.
We exchanged contact info and he pointed to his Jeep. I had told him how special the name David was to me. My father’s, of blessed memory, name was David. My daughter, born just weeks after my father’s death, is named Davide. Her son’s name is Davis. I call him Davey, which is what my mother called my father. David pointed to the Jeep next to me, smiling and saying, “this is what David’s chariot would look like today if he were alive.”
You know, just like Elijah sometimes appears as different personna, this person, this David, could well have been David of old, come to fight for the Israelites once again. Some of you may remember the American Indian who came to me in Sedona years ago. To this day I carry the little yellow sticky note he left on my chair. No one has ever seen that man again or been able to get me in touch with him. In my heart, and judging by our conversation then, I believe he was sent by HaShem. When folks ask me who he was, I sometimes think and articulate, that he was Jesus, come back to me with a message.
I have no heard from David yet. I will let you know. But this I know for sure. HaShem sent this David, with a message, at this time. I got the message. I feel loved, supported, able and very blessed. I will carry that on.
With many blessings and very great love for all of us,
Rebba Raine
Austin, Texas
1/4/19
February 12, 2019
