A Day of Rest in the City that Never Sleeps

Sometimes for Shabbos I go to Monsey where everybody is frum except for the Hispanic cleaning ladies. Sometimes I stay other places, where I see a lot of cars on Shabbos. But this was my first Shabbos is Gashmius City, I mean Manhattan.

First I was walking through part of Gashmius City to get to where I’m going for Shabbos dinner. A man walks up to me and my friends and says,

“Hey are you ladies Jewish? I want to marry a Jewish lady, ya’ll so beautiful!”
We just smiled nervously and walk away. I mean what do you say?

We had Shabbos dinner and I must say it was absolutely beautiful with an amazing family. But then we had to walk back.

Walking back we pass a million nightclubs with half-naked people outside, blasting music, and even “adult” stores. Then a man walks up to us and tells us that we should wear shorter skirts because we would better that way. Besides wanting to burst out crying, I was mortified.

It was a beautiful Shabbos all together and I want to emphasize that,

but walking through this reminds me that we are in Gallus. I know that most of the people in the clubs were Jewish. I felt so dirty leaving a beautiful home and entering the streets with all kinds of Idontwanttoknowwhat going on. 

How do those sorts of things exist in the same city? Even the same world?

How can the same beings (people that is) do such  chesed and have such beautiful families and a block away people are shooting up the park? Ew ew ew.

So in conclusion we should all move to Israel. The end.

-Tsivia

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