By Joel H. Cohen
NEW YORK — A nephew called me in Staten Island, NY, from his home in North Carolina, some 500 miles away. to ask whether we shopped at a particular supermarket chain. “Very often,” I replied, hoping that maybe he’d seen our names on a list of prize-winners..
But he was a calling for a different reason: Outside one of the Staten Island supermarket’s stores, a woman had found a yarmulka dating from the bar mitzvah of our nephew’s son seven years earlier. And, probably thinking the skullcap had religious significance, she had gone to the trouble, starting with the bar mitzvah boy’s name, date and place of the celebration printed inside the head covering, of locating the young man, and mailing the yarmulka to him.
Since I was probably the only Jewish male Staten Islander who would have attended the event in North Carolina, our nephew felt it was a good bet that the skullcap was one I’d dropped in recent days.
Admiring the woman’s thoughtfulness and determination to do a good deed, I located her phone number via the internet, called her to say thanks and, in a cordial conversation, learned how thrilled she was that her that the kipa had found its rightful owner and delighted to have played a part in the now-completed mitzvah.
Over the years, yarmulkas – convenient head-coverings for Shul and life — have appeared in all colors and sizes (some current ones so small the wearers need a bobby pin to keep them on. Anyone see a future application for velcro?). They’ve borne holiday themes, psychedelic designs and the names of sports teams and at least one was topped by a miniature propeller. Recently, a yarmulka was the (unsuccessful) instrument of a political campaign, with the name Hillary discreetly displayed on it in both Hebrew and English. A yarmulka has even given rise to a corny pun – he asked his mother, “Am I my brother’s kip a?”
Because of the data inside, they can provide an individual or couple with sort of a social history, even years later, although if you were invited to a wedding by the bride’s family, the couple’s name provides no clue.
Often more than just a head-covering, a yarmulka can serve as an instrument of a good deed, as in the true story at the beginning of this piece; represent a cause, or make a dramatic statement about ethnicity.
A couple of real-life examples:
Our youngest son and his bride chose orange yarmulkas for their wedding. Shortly after, a cousin of ours by marriage was invited to an upsherin (a first haircut) on his side of the family.
As he left for that event, he reached into his collection of yarmulkas and drew out the orange skullcap he’d been given at our son’s wedding. When his cousin, the father of the child being given the haircut, noticed the yarmulka, he gave my cousin a thumb’s up and said, “I didn’t know you were one of us.”
“Absolutely,” my cousin responded, not having the slightest idea of what this relative was talking about.
But he learned that orange had been the color adopted by Israelis and supporters determined not to give up any land in Israel. We later saw a local rabbi wearing an orange t-shirt with a map of Israel sketched on it, and the words, “Let my people stay.”
A yarmulka provided a dramatic statement of ethnicity at a wedding of the son of a Jewish mother and a non-Jewish father, to a non-Jewish girl in a church. The young groom requested that yarmulkas be available for any guest who wanted to wear one. He wore one himself over a thick head of hair, the style during those years.
Partway through the ceremony performed by a rabbi-priest traveling team, some of us were shocked to hear the priest ask the couple whether they pledged to raise any children in the non-Jewish faith. As the groom shook his head in the affirmative, – whether it was his abundant hair or a sign from Above – the yarmulka floated off in the breeze.
It was an eerie climax to an unfamiliar and, for some, an uncomfortable, occurrence.
Isolated incidents all? Yes, but reminders that yarmulkas can be more than just convenient, comfortable head coverings.
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Cohen is a freelance writer based in New York. He may be contacted via joel.cohen@sdjewishworld.com