Dateline Temecula — In the midst of the happiest stretch of my life last week, an old friend telephoned.
“Nearly a year has gone by,” said Rabbi Yonason Abrams. “Come to Temecula for Shabbos,” and that was the linchpin for one of my most memorable adventures in the last 40 years.
For any remotely serious Jew, prospects were irresistible for the kind of secluded-but-sociable 25-hour Shabbos concept G-d had in mind at the beginning.
At the risk of igniting a population explosion, every Los Angeles Orthodox Jew – single, couple, family – should spend at least one Shabbos each month at Chabad of Temecula, Rabbi Abrams’s window-wonder home base.
This side of Israel, it is impossible for any Jew to pass closer to heaven in his life than celebrating Shabbos beneath the flawlessly gorgeous, wide-open, crystal blue skies that crown Temecula.
So pristine was the imperturbable air that we could overhear conversations in San Diego, an hour and a half distant
At 3 o’clock, two hours before Shabbos, I arrived at the sprawling new home of Rabbi and Rebbetzin Natanya Abrams and their four enchanting children, ranging from age 5 to 11-month-old Mendel.
It would be a fairly quiet Shabbos, the six Abramses, their friend semi-retired Irv and his wife, and me.
An emergency emerged as I was unpacking.
Since driving is prohibited for Jews on Shabbos, Eli, Tzippora and their six delightful children, a New York family traveling from San Diego to Palm Springs, were certain they could not reach the spa before Shabbos at 5 o’clock.
Could they spend Shabbos in Temecula with the rabbi and his family??
Of course.
Naturally, their children, ranging from 14 to Pretty Young, would have a terrific time in the spacious quarters with the Abrams kids.
When Shabbos came in, it was welcomed by two frightfully happy tables — 17 Jews enjoying a time they long will recall.
What could have been more convenient for the New York tourists? They arrived with 10 heaping bags of kosher groceries – dinner and plenty to spare for Shabbos daytime fare.
The 10 kids almost, but not quite, outlasted the adults, and a long winter night’s sleep was embraced by all.
Picture This
Morning rose in golden sunshine, as it often does in the Temecula Valley, home to least 70 wineries.
After an early-day solo walk on Shabbos morning, it was time for shul.
Rabbi Abrams, Eli and I departed the family home at 8:45 for a mile-plus storybook stroll over picturesque hill and dale to the synagogue.
First came a class by Rabb Abrams. The subject was G-d, His names and why. Services began promptly shortly after 10. Eventually we landed a minyan, 10 men, so that we could proceed with the day’s Torah reading. Rabbi Abrams interspersed learning between 8 readings.
Only men were present. After the davening (praying), there was a kiddush, a most informal meal on a tasty foundation of 2½ hours of meaty (but not dairy) conversation and nutritious noshing.
When the three of us headed for home in mid-afternoon, the sun was well into its downward arc, an artist’s dream.
Since the women and children long since had consumed their midday-meal, we three sat and happily reflected on events of the past 24 hours.
Taking one final Shabbos walk through the Abrams’s gorgeous neighborhood was too tempting.
Darkness dropped its curtain just before 6 o’clock.
All 15 of us gathered about the candlelit table for the closing prayer that separates Shabbos from the ordinary week.
As the lights of the city of Temecula winked goodbye to us, Eli, Tzippora and their children drove east toward Palm Springs.
I started for Pico-Robertson, with smiling memories of a Shabbos unique for three reasons, to be explained another time.
