Alone on Erev Shabbos?

Last Friday for the first time in many years I was lighting Shabbos candles by myself.  Usually one of two kids is around on erev Shabbos, and between March and October my husband would be there as well, and quite often there would be guests.  But this was January, Michael was still on the train home, Miriam was in Israel, Yoni stayed at school for Shabbaton, and later that night we were going to be guests at our neighbor’s Shabbos table.  

Alone on erev Shabbos?  No, not alone, but free! And what do I do when I am free?  So after lighting Shabbat candles and sending imaginary blessings to Miriam and Yoni I walked to shul for the Kabbalat Shabbat services.  The soft snow felt cozy after the dry bitter cold we endured for the last few days.   

The services were wonderful and uplifting, and the work week troubles were fading away with the sounds of favorite melodies – yedid nefesh, l’cha dodi, havu la’donai bnei eilim, and magen avot.  However it felt a bit awkward to be the only woman in the room. My kind neighbors offered to keep me company on the way back, but the men walked too slowly and I ran ahead to keep warm.  

I did not go to evening services after Shabbat, nor morning services on Sunday, figuring that the cold and snow is keeping other women indoors. However on Sunday afternoon, after spending a good part of the day with paperwork, paying bills and trying to somehow plan the family budget, I just had to come to the minchah/maariv service despite the worst driving condition of fresh sleet and ice.  I knew there will be no women and yet something pulled me in the direction of the shul.   

It turned out I came for a good reason.  Soon after Michael and Yoni came to the services too, and then, halfway through minchah a young girl, probably college age, walked into the room looking shy and kind of out of place.  We exchanged a few words and smiles.  She was from West Rogers Park, came to Northbrook with a friend who was looking for an afternoon minyan. And then I realized that it does not matter whether I am comfortable or not, I am a grown up, I’ll survive.  What matters is that when a girl walks into the shul there is a woman there to make her feel welcome.