On Sunday afternoon we were all packed and waiting for the bus to arrive, standing around in knots of new friends and making plans to see each other again at services. The rabbi was there, too, moving from group to group as everyone tried to corner him and say goodbye. Having no idea how to talk to rabbis, I hadn't said a word to him all weekend. But he certainly seemed like an authentic and normal person, unlike the other rabbis I had known, so I took a deep breath, gulped, and walked over and extended my hand.
"Thank you," I stammered. "Thank you so much. This was great. Really, really great." I immediately wanted to swallow my words, which didn't even begin to explain how I suspected that my life had just changed, and that it was partly his fault. I sounded giddy. But I couldn't think of anything else to say.
"You're welcome," he answered, and smiled, just like when he played the drums on Friday evening.