Who Gets to Open the Door? A Lesson That Uplifts the Soul

A shuttle driver and an escort who worked for a Talmud Torah (a school where Jewish boys learn Torah) once came to speak with Rabbi Ben Zion Abba Shaul, a great Sephardic sage of the previous generation. They had a question for him—one that at first seemed simple.

"Who should open and close the door of the shuttle at each stop?" the driver asked. "I'm focused on driving and need to keep my eyes on the road. I can’t be opening and closing doors too."

The escort chimed in: "I’m busy helping the boys in and out of the van, making sure they’re seated properly and staying safe. I don’t have time to be in charge of the door either."

Rabbi Abba Shaul listened patiently. Then he smiled and asked them a question of his own.

"Tell me—how much would you pay to open the Aron Kodesh, the Holy Ark, in synagogue on Shabbat? A hundred dollars? And on Rosh Hashanah? Maybe a thousand? And at Ne’ilah—the final prayer of Yom Kippur, when the gates of Heaven are closing—how much would that honor be worth to you?"

The two men were quiet.

"You see," Rabbi Abba Shaul said gently, "people are willing to pay a lot for the privilege of opening the ark, because it’s such a holy moment. But every time a Jewish child steps onto your van on his way to learn Torah—you have the chance to open a different kind of ark. When you open that door, it’s like you’re opening the ark itself. Hashem is watching. You're helping bring a child to Torah. It’s a tremendous zechut—a spiritual merit—and it's free! Who would want to miss out on that?"

The driver and escort stood silently, clearly moved. They left deep in thought. But a few minutes later, they returned with another question.

“Rabbi… could you decide for us—who gets to open and close the door?”

Rabbi Abba Shaul smiled again. "Make a compromise," he said. "Take turns. The main thing is that neither of you, chas v’shalom (Heaven forbid), should miss out on such a beautiful opportunity.”

Even a simple act—opening a van door—can become a holy moment when it’s done to help Jewish children grow in Torah. Rabbi Abba Shaul taught them, and teaches us, that there’s no such thing as an “ordinary” mitzvah.