When Henry Jenkins lost his wife, his son Thomas was only three years old.  With gentle love and devotion, Jenkins raised his orphaned son, serving as both mother and father to the boy.  Thomas thrived under his father’s loving care and grew up to be a well-mannered intelligent young man.  He studied biology and passed his examinations with excellent marks.  He found work easily and was soon making a far higher salary than his father had ever dreamed of earning.

Now Thomas sought to advance in his chosen field.  One day he came home and announced that he was planning to emigrate to the United States, where there were far greater opportunities to advance in the sciences.  Henry tried his best to convince his son to stay closer to home, but to no avail.  Thomas packed his bag, bid his father farewell, and left for the shores of the New World.

At first, the son wrote to his father regularly and reported his progress.  He found a good position and was very happy in his work.  It was not long before he wrote that he was planning to marry and settle in his new country.  Henry was heartbroken by the news.  How he had looked forward to one day enjoying his grandchildren!  Now, who knew whether he would even see them!

He pleaded with Thomas to come back home, if only for a visit, and to let him meet his future wife, but there was always some reason or other that prevented his son from making the journey back home.

Thomas was married.  As the years passed, one child was born, and then, another.  Henry poured over the photographs his son and daughter-in-law sent him, and continued to long for the day when he would finally embrace his son again.

Again and again, he pleaded, begged, and cajoled Thomas to bring his family for a visit, but for some reason, the son never agreed.  Finally, Henry realized that if he wished to see his son again, and to meet his daughter-in-law and his grandchildren, before he died, it was up to him to make the journey across the seas.  He counted up his savings, inquired about the price of a voyage, and booked passage for the United States.  He immediately sat down to send Thomas the full details of his departure, his arrival, and the name of the ship on which he planned to sail.

From that day, Henry could think and speak of nothing but his upcoming trip to his son and his family.  Again and again he pictured his arrival at the docks.  Thomas and his wife would be there with the children.  How he would embrace them!  How happy they would all be together!  He bought presents for each one, carefully packed his bags, and marked the days off on his calendar.

When the day of departure finally arrived, he was up with the crack of dawn, anxious to be on his way.  Everything went smoothly.  His excitement mounted as he boarded the ship.  Despite his advanced age, Henry weathered the voyage well.  As they drew nearer to the New World, Henry would spend more and more time standing on the deck, staring at the expanse of green waves, and straining to catch first sight of land.

One morning, he rose to discover a faint strip of land, topped with white clouds, on the distant horizon.  His heart skipped a beat.  This was the country of his beloved son and his family. He could hardly tear his eyes away from the horizon long enough to pack his things in anticipation of their landing.

Even before they weighed anchor, his glance was scanning the crowd on the shore to catch sight of his Thomas.  Had Thomas aged?  Had he put on weight?  His eyes moved from one figure to the next.  He particularly paused when he discovered a child in the crowd.  But no one seemed to fit his mental picture of what Thomas must look like now.  He would have to wait until they disembarked.

Doubts began to gnaw away at him.  Perhaps Thomas hadn’t come to meet him?  Was something wrong?  Heaven forbid, perhaps someone was ill?

He waited impatiently with his luggage, frowned at the immigration officers, and answered their questions tersely.   Once his passport was stamped, he made his way as quickly as he could with his cumbersome valise, packed with presents, to the wharf where people were milling about, looking for their relatives among the new arrivals.

It was not easy, handicapped as he was with his luggage.  It was late already.  The sun had set, and the artificial lighting made it even more difficult to scan the faces around him.  “He must be too busy with his work to take the time off to come to the port,” Henry consoled himself.  Weary from the physical and emotional toil of the day, he pulled his luggage in the direction indicated by the exit sign, and looked for a taxi.

It was a long ride.  Henry had a chance to rest and to collect his thoughts.  “Perhaps Thomas had to work late,” he told himself.  “The main thing is that I am finally here, safe and sound.”

Again he pictured the warm reunion that awaited him.  Would the children like the presents he had brought them?  How would they react to the grandfather they had never seen?

The taxi pulled up to the house.  Again, Henry’s heart began to pound.  Everything was dark.  Could it be?  Had the family gone away?  Was something wrong?   Or was it the wrong house?

The name on the bell was Jenkins.  He took a deep breath, and rang the bell, first a short, hesitant ring, then a long, demanding one.

There was no response.  Again he rang, and this time, added a sharp rap on the door.

From the distance, he heard a muffled voice ask “Who is it?”

“Thomas!  Are you all right?  It’s me, your father.  I’ve finally come, just as I wrote you.  Our ship landed at four o’clock, and I waited for you at the wharf,” Henry added, waiting for the door to open so he could at long last embrace his son.

“Father?  It’s you?” answered the voice from the distance.  “It’s so late at night, Father, and I have to get up early tomorrow.  I’m already in pajamas.  It’s hard for me to come downstairs and open the door for you.

“Father, maybe you can go to the hotel across the street and stay there for the night, and tomorrow we’ll get together?”

Henry thought he would faint there on the doorstep.  Hotel?  Tomorrow?   His head was spinning so that he grasped the railing to keep from falling.

A hotel?  Had he spent his life’s savings and spent all these weeks waiting, in order to spend a night in a hotel?

With a broken heart, he dragged his luggage down the steps and out to the sidewalk.  Through misty eyes he scanned the street for a taxi.  Cars whizzed by, ignoring him.  Didn’t they know his heart was bleeding within him?

At last a cab pulled up to the curb.  “Where to, Mister?” the driver asked Henry.

“Anywhere,” the older man mumbled as he climbed into the back seat.  “What did you say?” asked the cabbie as he got out to put the suitcase in the trunk.

“I need a hotel,” answered Henry.  “Not too expensive, and near the wharf.”

That night Thomas and his family slept well, and Henry could not sleep a wink.  The next morning he went to the office of the steamship company and ordered a ticket for the first steamer that would take him home.

The next morning, Thomas recalled how he had sent his father away to the hotel across the street, and his conscience got him out of the house earlier than usual.  He headed straight for the desk of the hotel, and asked for the room number of Mr. Jenkins.

“Jenkins?” echoed the clerk.  “One moment, sir.  I’ll have a look.”

Thomas shifted his weight from one foot to the other as the clerk went down the list of names a second time.  “I’m sorry, sir,” he told Thomas with a shake of his head.  “I don’t see any Jenkins checked in with us.”

“But he must be here!” thundered Thomas.  “I sent him here myself, last night!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I cannot find any record of a Mr. Jenkins arriving here.”

Thomas was dumbstruck.  The full significance of his actions the previous night hit him.  He was at a total loss.  How he regretted his words now, but it was too late.  His father had left, and was not to be found.

*******

G-d waits for us, as it were, all year long, hoping that we will return to Him with all our heart.  He sees that most of us are far too busy with our own matters to give much thought to what He would like us to do. He comes closer to us, starting on the first of Elul, the last month of the year.

Even then, not everyone takes the time to ask himself how his Creator would like him to live his life.  We’re too wrapped up in the day-to-day affairs that have become so important to us, that we lose sight of what really matters.

To help us focus on the fact that we are about to be judged for the coming year, G-d gives us the Ten Days of Repentance, between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.  During these ten days, G-d comes even nearer to the Jewish People, and it is easier to become aware of His presence in our lives.

During these ten days, G-d comes to us.  He knocks on the doors of our heart, hoping that we will open up to Him, take Him in, and make Him an intrinsic part of our lives.

But the choice is ours.  Should we fail to answer His knock between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we loose our chance.  After Yom Kippur, He will no longer be at our doorstep, waiting for us to return to Him.

Now is the time to take advantage of the opportunity He grants us, so that we will not have any regrets later.