Word Prompt – ETROG – Jonathan Shenkman

Right after Yom Kippur ends, I break my fast and race to a garage in West Hempstead where a local family has sold lulavim and etrogim for years. There is a halachic reason for the hurry: do not let one mitzvah go stale. Move straight from one to the next before the yetzer hara catches its breath. There is also a less spiritual reason. I hate lines, and I have learned that if you move fast enough, you can own your arba minim before most people have finished their bagel and lox.

But the real reason I love the word “etrog” has nothing to do with speed. Every Sukkot, it takes me back to my grandfathers.

My zeidy, Sam Blumenfeld, would slip over to the expensive table, searching for the perfect etrog with the straightest pitom and fewest blemishes, all in the name of hiddur mitzvah. He would wink and tell me not to mention to my grandmother that his winning etrog cost four times the discount-bin one. Some secrets are sacred.

My Grandpa, Jack Shenkman, kept his etrogim long after Sukkot, storing them in a large decorative bowl on display throughout the year, like fine fruit. I still do the same, and every year I catch myself smiling at that bowl before I have even smelled what is inside.

They say the etrog has both taste and fragrance, representing Torah and good deeds together. For me, its fragrance carries something else too: the memory of two men who taught me that mitzvot are worth running for, and worth doing beautifully.