The Parking Spot and the Plane Ticket
Do you ask Hashem for a parking spot?
It sounds almost childish.
“Hashem, please — just one parking spot.”
Some people would say yes.
Some people would say no.
The real answer is both.
A Parking Spot — or a Relationship?
I drove to an event one night. I was running late. I needed to be inside in just a few minutes. I pulled up in front — no parking.
I circled the block. Slowly. Too slowly. Cars flashing their lights at me. The tension rising.
The whole time I was talking to Hashem.
“Hashem, I need a parking spot. I have to be inside.”
I finally found one. I walked in at 8:57.
Now, we all know the joke:
“Thank you, God — I found it myself.”
But that’s not the point.
The point isn’t the parking spot.
The point is the relationship.
When you talk to Hashem — even about something small — you’re building a yachas, a connection.
Life stops being, “I did. I bought. I own. I accomplished.”
Instead, it becomes, “We.”
Chicago Traffic and a Flight at 7:30
That morning, I was in Chicago. I had planned everything perfectly. Early minyan. Straight to the airport. Plenty of time.
Then — traffic.
Bumper to bumper.
Normally I would watch the clock obsessively. Calculate every minute. Panic internally.
Instead, I said, “Hashem, I’m not watching the clock. I’m driving. If I make the flight, I make it. If I don’t, I don’t. Whatever You want.”
I got to the airport at 7:00.
The flight was 7:30.
The printer at home had broken the night before, so I needed to print my boarding pass. The kiosk didn’t work. Finally, a representative helped me.
No PreCheck.
Of course.
“Hashem, whatever You want.”
A woman overheard that I was cutting it close. She turned to me and said, “Go ahead of me.”
Then she told the two people in front of her, “Please let him go.”
I hadn’t asked.
I hadn’t explained.
I hadn’t pressured.
Doors kept opening.
I ran to the gate. I was the last person on the plane.
But then they said, “Your bag has to be checked.”
Inside that bag were my tallis and tefillin. I wasn’t thrilled — but again:
“Hashem, whatever You want.”
The Real Problem
Here was the complication.
When I land in Chicago, I have a fixed learning session from 9:30 to 12:30. Someone sponsors it. I go straight from the gate to a lounge and learn with my chavrusa.
But if my bag is checked, I’ll have to go to baggage claim. And once you exit security, you can’t just walk back in without going through the whole process again.
That would mean missing learning.
So I turned to the flight attendant — her name was Talia — and I explained the situation.
She looked at me and said, casually:
“I have an hour off when we land. I’ll get your luggage and bring it to you.”
I thought I misheard her.
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll get it. I don’t have to go back through security. I work here. I’ll bring it to you. Maybe one day someone will do something nice for me.”
She gave me her phone number.
I gave her mine.
She retrieved the bag, called me, met me near the lounge, and handed it to me.
I’ve been flying for fifty years.
I have never seen anything like that.
What’s the Secret?
The secret is not that if you talk to Hashem, angels appear.
The secret is that when you talk to Hashem, you live differently.
You’re calmer.
You’re less frantic.
You’re less entitled.
You stop saying, “I control everything.”
Instead, you say, “Hashem, I’m doing my part. You do Yours.”
And sometimes — not always — you see things unfold in ways that are almost impossible to explain.
A stranger gives up her place in line.
A flight attendant uses her break to retrieve your bag.
A parking spot opens exactly when you need it.
But even if none of that happens — the relationship itself changes you.
Talk to Him
You don’t have to stand in the middle of a crowd and announce it.
You don’t have to move your lips.
You can whisper in your mind.
Driving.
Walking.
Waiting in line.
Sitting on a plane.
“Hashem, help me.”
“Hashem, thank You.”
“Hashem, I’m nervous.”
“Hashem, I trust You.”
Just talk.
Because He wants a relationship.
Not only when life is dramatic.
Not only in Majdanek.
Not only at a chuppah.
Even in traffic.
Even in airports.
Even for a parking spot.
And when you live that way, life stops feeling random.
It starts feeling guided.
Talk to Hashem.
All the time.
You never know what doors might open — and more importantly, what kind of person you’ll become in the process.