Sunday Morning

I ride my bike down to Main Street.

Mr. Cohen’s bakery is full of Sunday people

wearing Sunday clothes

but with Giants hats,

and kids carrying pennants and baseball gloves.

I get in line to buy my grandfather

his coffee and bagel,

a last meal

before he starts his Yom Kippur fast,

leading up to the day of atonement.

It’s a time, he explains, to say sorry

for things we’ve done

and mean it.

A time for forgiveness

and fate.

It’s also twenty-five hours of not eating anything!

But when Mr. Cohen sees me,

his head bobbing from behind the counter,

he waves at me. Etan, Etan!

I push through the crowd,

ducking under,

slipping through.

and he pulls me around.

Etan, I am so swamped. Can you PLEASE take these

donuts to Grace Covenant Community Center?

I will never get them there in time.

He hands me two pink boxes.

There’s a jelly for you and bagels for your grandpa when you get back.