Bein hazmanim is now a recognized legal holiday on the Jewish calendar.

Back in the 1970s, when I was a yeshivah bochur, it was we bochurim who had to “shtell tzu” (loosely translated as “to acclimate”) to our shul’s minyan schedule.

Nowadays, in an exhilarating and refreshing way, we at the shul have to accommodate and “shtell tzu” to the needs of the bochurim.

Particularly on Chol Hamoed, there is a phenomenal influx of bochurim. With minyanim beginning at six and concluding close to noon, the shul welcomes well over a thousand men daily just for Shacharis.

I love that the bochurim fill the shul during bein hazmanim. From the beis medrash emanates the sonorous sweet sounds of their kol Torah, which permeates the entire shul.

Nevertheless, there is one personal challenge for me.

It’s recorded that the legendary Rav Pinchas Hirschprung ztz”l, from Montreal, would speak in learning with every bochur during bein hazmanim.

The bochurim were always amazed that Rav Hirschprung knew the Gemara they were learning — whichever Gemara they were learning — better than they did. His ability to talk in learning with everyone was astounding.

The problem is that I am not Rav Hirschprung!

I love talking to the bochurim in learning. However, more often than not, it is they who are teaching me, and I am doing the listening. I do warn them in advance not to be fooled by my title or beard, but too often they think I’m just being humble when in reality I’m just being honest.

On Thursday of Chol Hamoed, I davened k’vasikin and made a quick escape. After walking just a few yards, I noticed a 16-foot minivan attempting to parallel park in a 19-foot parking space, one bochur directing his obviously inexperienced brother.

I contemplated what I should do.

I certainly don’t know every Pnei Yehoshua. However, I am the undisputed world’s greatest parallel parking rabbi this side of the Hudson. When I lived in Manhattan, people came from far and wide to watch me park a 15-foot car in a 15-foot-one-inch spot.

I handed my lulav and esrog to the bochur, ran around to the driver’s side, and asked him to exit his vehicle. After moving the seat all the way back, I jumped in, put the car in reverse, and before you could say v’samachta b’chagecha, I had perfectly paralleled parked the vehicle.

I was proud of myself.

Spontaneously, one of the bochurim said, “I sit in yeshivah all day, what do I know about parking?”

Do I know about parallel parking because I don’t sit in the beis medrash all day? I thought.

The bochurim then added in unison, “Thank you so much, without you we would have sat here all day!”

I appreciated the comment and scooted home.

I was feeling good about my parking, but couldn’t escape the nagging feeling that, as opposed to being a feather in my cap, perhaps my parking proficiency is indicative of my spiritual paucity. The feeling stayed with me until I received the following phone call from an appreciative mother.

“Rabbi Eisenman, I am the mother of the two boys you helped. They came rushing home after minyan to tell me, ‘Ma, you won’t believe it! The Rav parked our car today!’ And I must add, they told you the truth. If you hadn’t parked for them, they would have been there all day.”

Suddenly I started smiling and the sun started shining. Most importantly, I now look forward to bein hazmanim. I walk with my eyes wide opened and my head held high.

If you ever come my way and the parking situation looks tight, please give me a call. I’m your valet car parker, and the best part is that you don’t have to tip.

 (Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 789)