Yesterday’s celebration of the holiest day on the Jewish calendar reminded me of a story my brother told me concerning a High School classmate of his named Roman Dakishin (last name spelled phonetically, in deference to my not knowing how to spell it correctly.)
Roman Dakishin hated going to school. Exploiting any opportunity to be absent, Dakishin would not only stay home on holidays associated with his religion, he’d take off everybody's holiday, claiming affiliation with whatever religion that happened to be celebrating that day.
Unfortunately, on one occasion at least, his ignorance gave him away.
Yom Kippur – pronounced Yom Kee-poor – arrived, and, as was his proclivity on such occasions, Dakishin took the day off. The next morning, he cheerily returned to class. Though not without a challenge.
“Where were you yesterday?” his Home Room teacher inquired.
“Jewish holiday, Sir,” chirped the transparently not Jewish Mr. Dakishin.