He sat next to me one day on a bench in a Boston Subway Station, as we waited for the train. He saw one of my books. It was a French Bible. I was studying French and a few Divinity Courses. He started speaking with me in French.
It was quite unusual, but we chatted. Turns out that he was a Rabbi. He spoke 7 languages. I later used to visit him in his little store near Downtown Boston regularly. We became good friends. He liked me because of a lot of reasons, but one thing for sure was that he appreciated was that I am a big Dude, and I walked with him to the bank where he made his deposits when I could. He felt safe around me.
He always toyed with me, wanted to circumcise me, as if he knew my status. Wanted me to become a Jew. He was a great guy and I loved him.
I was about 20 when I met him. He was 74 or so in those days.
I went off to Europe, for the Army. I never saw him again after that. I figure that he would be about a hundred and ten now, so likely he passed, but I truly liked him a lot.
There is more to the story, but I ain't telling all out here.
That is a wonderful story Radix. It was a good thing, for both of you, that your paths crossed.