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.