In 1974, a new apparition began to make its appearance in the streets of Manhattan. Even in that hubbub of crowd and clamor, this strange vehicle attracted attention. It was a standard van of the “U-Haul” or “Ryder” variety. It’s back door was rolled up, showing a cargo of one large wooden table, two wooden benches, and a dozen young men with beards and black hats. From a loudspeaker taped to its roof issued forth a medley of Chassidic songs played on high volume—that is, high enough to make itself heard above the din of a Manhattan street corner. Large posters taped to the sides of the moving van proclaimed: “MITZVAH TANK”, “Teffilin on board” and “Mitzvot On The Spot For People On The Go.”
In the month of Elul, the month before Rosh Hashanah, a signal goes out to every Jewish soul that it is time to return to the palace that is home.
It is a signal both subtle and loud.
Subtle, because it does not awaken even those who are closest—every soul must awaken itself. Loud, because it reaches those who have been thrown to the edge of the universe.
Loud, because it is a signal of love and joy. Subtle, because it is an intimately personal call.
Loud, because it provides immeasurable powers to break out of whatever holds you back, lift you above all obstacles, and carry you all the way...
