Tuesday, May 19, 2020

For the first time in weeks, I’m not wearing a mask as I walk to work. The Health Ministry has declared that we don’t have to wear them outside for the next few days. While it’s this hot, some people are having trouble breathing while wearing them. The Ministry has told people in high risk groups to stay indoors. The House of a Hundred Grandmothers had set up a table outside, where residents could meet with their families. That’s not happening now. Schools in my town are closed again. Having this plague of heat at the same time as the virus isn't fair. Even in Exodus, the plagues were sequential, not simultaneous. I decide to lodge a complaint during the afternoon prayers. I put my mask on as I step into my office building. This seems backwards, but makes sense. The chance of catching the virus in an enclosed space such as our lobby is greater than outdoors. When it’s time for the afternoon prayers, a new person wanders up the hall to join us. He’s a friend of a regular member. Unafraid of the virus, they embrace. He asks me for a prayer book. I offer him two different versions. He chooses the larger one. I use the smaller. He is nervous, unsure of which prayer is said when. Others coach him through it. The prayer he most needs, the Mourner’s Kaddish, is printed on the back cover. I had never noticed that before. When it’s time, he reads it from there, along with the other mourners. It goes well. He’ll probably be back.