One of the greatest
honours one can bestow upon another is the request to hold a baby, be the Sandek,
at a Bris. This honour is usually reserved for a grandparent, Rabbi, an elder
or a very pious person. To my surprise and honour I was asked to be the Sandek
at my new grandsons Bris this past week. With this honour however also comes
great responsibility. Can I hold the baby securely? Will I flinch? Will the
procedure make me uneasy or faint? I asked myself, am I old enough? Am I pious
enough? Is there someone more deserving? I did not however ask a very important
question, am I tall enough?
The Mohel was ready
and called me by name to approach and sit in the honoured chair, the chair of
the prophet Elijah, a large blue velvet covered chair reserved for only this
occasion. I stepped forward sat down in the special chair and there sitting
proudly in front of family and friends my legs dangled from the chair not quite
reaching the floor. “Not Good” said the Mohel since I was responsible to hold
the baby securely on my lap, holding down his legs while the Mohel did the
cutting without worrying about the baby moving or falling. Quickly thinking,
the Mohel grabbed his briefcase and placed it under my legs and proceeded to
begin the Bris while I sat there feeling like a 4 year old getting his first
haircut at the barbershop.
The Mohel proceeded
to begin the cut as my grandson lay comfortably on the pillow on my lap. Trying
not to watch the actual procedure I stared into my grandsons blue eyes waiting
for the Mohel to complete the Bris and make the Blessing afterwards. Listening
carefully the Mohel began the cut and said “you don’t see that happen too
often”
I am happy to say
everything is fine. My grandson is great, I survived the ordeal, and this is
one Bris that neither I nor many of my family or friends will ever forget.
Looking
forward to my next Moe moment.
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