Getting the Boot

“Only a nobody walks in L.A.,” declares an ’80s song that is still stuck in my head. While attending university in Southern California, I started taking the bus to campus to avoid receiving any more parking tickets. If you’re familiar with the poor public transportation system in L.A. in those days, you know how unusual that was. I had officially become a nobody, and I was thoroughly enjoying it!

One afternoon, as I neared my house, I noticed that my car, which was parked on the street, looked different. I moved closer and saw it—the dreaded orange metal boot! Oh, no! Parking enforcement, my nemesis, had caught up with me. I had more than five unpaid parking tickets, and the only way to have the boot removed was to pay the tickets in full—a hefty sum for a college student living on student loans.

Sobbing uncontrollably, I sat in my room and contemplated my awful fate (okay, a little dramatic, but I was prone to catastrophic thinking). This would cost me a lot of money that I did not have, and a lot of aggravation to get it removed. I needed to borrow the money to pay the tickets, borrow a car to go downtown to the courthouse, and pay the fines. I then had to set a court date in order to have a judge hear my case and determine whether I was truly liable for all those parking tickets. All this felt overwhelming, as finances were really tight and my schedule, between classes and work, was really packed. Why did life have to be like this?

Once I calmed down, I began to really analyze the situation. I had recently begun taking a few Torah classes from a Chabad rabbi on campus, and he often discussed divine providence, the belief that everything that happens in this world, even the most most seemingly insignificant thing, is purposefully ordained by G‑d. It was as if a light went on in my head—G‑d could take away my time and money, and He could just as easily give it back!

Up until then, I had never integrated the idea of divine providence into my psyche. But this boot was the segue that slowly changed my worldview and allowed me to accept the idea that G‑d is in control, not me. I could have used the boot as a reason to display anger toward G‑d. I could have partaken in a grand pity party. But instead, I made the conscious decision to see where this would all lead. Somehow, even back then when I was so new to understanding Judaism, I knew that this was a major game-changer.

At the time I was formulating my summer plans, debating whether to work as a cook in a Jewish sleepaway camp on the East Coast, or go to the Catskill Mountains with a program that taught young Jewish college students all about their Jewish heritage. The program in the Catskills was for only one month, and I would come back home in the middle of the summer, which would make it difficult to find summer employment. The other job would entail working in the kitchen, not ideal in my mind at the time, but at least I would earn money the entire summer.

Once I recognized that getting the boot was divine providence, I also realized that my inner debate about my summer plans was more than a practical calculation. It was really about making a commitment to live life on a different plane than I had been living the past twenty years. It was about finally recognizing that G‑d is in control of all things, big and small. So, at that moment, I decided that I really wanted to go learn Torah in the Catskill Mountains. I knew that G‑d would take care of me, and I would be paid back for the money I thought I would miss from having gainful employment as a cook in a summer camp. This was divine providence at its best—all I needed to do was recognize how this boot on my car was really a huge gift!

I spent half that summer in a Torah environment, learning and building a foundation for my future. I made the commitment to be a true Torah Jew and to continue learning and taking on new mitzvahs after returning home.

I am convinced that my new attitude contributed to the events that unfolded that summer. First, when I came home from the learning program, I was able to get back the part-time job I had held during the school year. Second, when I went to court, all my tickets were dismissed, and I received back all the money I had previously paid. I used the money to purchase some much-needed mezuzahs for my home!

The best part of this whole adventure was that from that day on, I made a conscious decision to realize that everything that happens is divine providence. G‑d is in control of everything that happens. He can give me the boot, then find a way to reimburse the cost. Yet best of all, He can turn this nobody who walked in L.A. into a mother of many who would spend more than two decades driving around in a minivan. But when I get the chance, I still walk in L.A.