I

t was a warm summer Friday afternoon.

Many parents were already downstairs attempting to convince their children to come get ready for Shabbos when it began.

Suddenly every family in the small residential area had at least one parent represented at the ad-hoc residents-only meeting.

One of the more “pious” members of the complex had unilaterally “paskened” and “decreed” that from now on all children irrespective of age or gender would be prohibited from using any sort of riding toy on Shabbos.

Goodbye to all the blue pink and red Cozy Coupes.

No more Fisher-Price Harley-Davidson Motorcycles Tough Trikes.

Time to put away the PlasmaCar Ride On Toys.

As you can no doubt imagine the ruling didn’t go unchallenged and in no time dozens of mothers and fathers and more than a few bubbies and zeidies — not to mention scores of children of all ages — were loudly protesting the edict.

There were men quoting sections of Shemiras Shabbos verbatim and mothers busy calling their former seminary teachers.

Older boys with thumbs flung in the air were saying over divrei Torah from their rebbeim and high school girls were busy checking their notes on hilchos Shabbos.

When Meir Rubin arrived downstairs he was surprised to see how suddenly baths could wait and tables no longer needed to be immediately set as everyone seemed to have endless time at their disposal to debate and argue the halachic permissibility of a two-year-old riding a plastic toy.

The small courtyard had been transformed into a beis medrash with everyone passionately and ardently arguing the correctness of their opinion.

Unfortunately as too often occurs the initial friendly and respectful discussion disintegrated into a full-fledged fight. More than a few participants began to hurl insults at each other.

Thankfully most heeded the advice of Rabbi Morgenstein a retired rav who advised all to go and get ready for Shabbos.

Meir Rubin with his children in tow also headed for the elevator.

He was surprised when David Glass (all names changed) approached him.

David began his own personal tirade. “Why can’t everyone just get along? Why can’t everyone just forget about what their neighbor’s child does? We should focus on getting along.”

Meir quietly listened to David wondering Why is David Glass so concerned about people getting along and children riding plastic toys? He’s not married and has no children. Why is he so agitated about a discussion that has no relevance for him?

After David finished venting Meir calmly asked “David I know it’s sort of last minute but would you like to come eat the seudah with us tonight?”

David’s entire demeanor changed. He had a big smile when he replied “I’d love to.”

After a wonderful meal accompanied by singing and divrei Torah Meir walked David across the now silent courtyard.

As they walked David asked “Can I ask what made you suddenly invite me tonight? I’m totally thrilled that you did but what about the subject of kids playing on Shabbos made you think of me?”

Meir looked at David and said “When you said ‘Why can’t people focus on getting along?’ I suddenly realized that you really weren’t upset about the kids and their toys what you were really saying was ‘People here are more concerned with Cozy Coupes than with making sure I have a place for Shabbos!’ That’s what made me invite you.”

When they got to David’s door he turned to Meir and said “Thank you so much. You’re the only person who took the time to really listen to me — and hear what I was really saying.” —