The Ribnitzer Rebbe was always very scrupulous about davening with a minyan. Yet despite the late hour at which he customarily davened Shacharis, he would only pray with a minyan of people who hadn’t davened yet that day. His gabbai was given the difficult task of gathering together ten such men. He would often go out into the streets and search for hours, stopping people and cars. It was a struggle each and every day, but somehow he always managed. One day the gabbai was still conducting his search at four o’clock in the afternoon, having almost miraculously located nine Jewish men who had not yet davened. Only one more was needed to complete the minyan. He stood on the curb stopping car after car as they passed by. Every person he asked was either not Jewish or had already davened. He was about to move to a different block in the hope of improving his luck when a huge truck drove by. He motioned for it to stop. “How can I help you?” the truck driver asked as he rolled down the window. The gabbai’s heart sank. The man didn’t look like a potential minyanmaker.
He looked Jewish but not like someone who would be thrilled to join a minyan. Especially when the Rebbe’s tefillos usually lasted for hours. “Are you Jewish?” the gabbai asked. “Certainly,” the truck driver answered proudly. “Have you davened Shacharis yet?” the gabbai asked hesitantly “Umm, actually no,” admitted the truck driver. “Then could you possibly join the holy Ribnitzer Rebbe’s minyan?” “Sure!” the man replied. “I have some time until my next delivery. I might as well chap arain a davening.” He parked the truck and went into the back to fetch his tefillin bag, which was buried under some boxes. The gabbai led him to the shul, thanking him several times along the way. “Please don’t thank me!” the truck driver protested. “It’s my pleasure. I don’t get to do much davening these days.” They got to the shul and then waited 20 minutes for the Rebbe to appear. When the Rebbe arrived, he looked around at the minyan that had been assembled for him. His gaze rested on the truck driver, and he stared at him for a few minutes. “You davened already!” he said. “Why are you here? Go! In this minyan we only want people who haven’t davened yet.” The truck driver looked shocked but said nothing. He left the shul and headed back to his truck.
A minute later the gabbai came running after him. “You should be ashamed of yourself!” he chastised him. “Why did you lie to me? I asked you if you had davened and you said no.” The truck driver looked at the gabbai and replied, “Please don’t yell at me. Today is the most exciting day of my life. The way I davened today would barely qualify as davening. I basically mumbled some stuff under my breath for a few minutes. I don’t even remember what I said. If the Rebbe was able to see that I davened, that means that up in Shamayim the few words I muttered were accepted as a tefillah. Wow! I never realized that davening has so much power.” Driving away, he left the gabbai deep in thought as he headed back to continue his holy work for the Rebbe.
