Meyer, a lonely widower, was walking home along Delancy Street one day,
wishing something wonderful would happen into his life, when he passed a Pet
Store, and heard a squawking voice, shouting out in Yiddish:
“Quawwwwk… vus macht du… Yeah, du…outside, standing like a putzel…
eh?”
Meyer rubbed his eyes and ears. Couldn’t believe it. The proprietor sprang
out of the door and grabbed Meyer by the sleeve. “Come in here, fella, and
check out this parrot…”
Meyer stood in front of an African Grey that cocked his little head and
said: “Vus? Kenst reddin Yiddish?”
Meyer turned excitedly to the store owner. “He speaks Yiddish?”
“Vuh den? Chinese maybe?” (The parrot replied.)
In a matter of moments, Meyer had placed five hundred dollars down on the
counter, and then carried the parrot in his cage away with him.
All night he talked with the parrot in Yiddish. He told the parrot about his father’s adventures
coming to America….About how beautiful his mother was when she was a young
bride….. About his family…. About his years of working in the garment center.
About Florida. The parrot listened and commented. They shared some walnuts.
The parrot told him of living in the pet store, how he hated the weekends.
They both went to sleep.
Next morning, Meyer began to put on his tfillin (prayer straps) all the while, saying his
prayers. The parrot demanded to know what he was doing, and when Meyer
explained, the parrot wanted some too. Meyer went out. and handmade a
miniature set of tfillin for the parrot. The parrot wanted to learn to daven (pray), and learned every prayer.
He wanted to learn to read Hebrew, so Meyer spent weeks and months, sitting
and teaching the parrot, teaching him the Torah.
In time, Meyer came to love, and count on the parrot, as a friend and a Jew.
He had been saved.
One morning, on Rosh Hashanah, (Jewish New Year)Meyer rose and got dressed, and was about to
leave when the parrot demanded to go with him. Meyer explained that temple
was not the place for a bird, but the parrot made a terrific argument, and was
carried to temple on Meyer’s shoulder.
Needless to say, they made quite a spectacle, and Meyer was questioned by
everyone, including the Rabbi and Cantor. They refused to allow a bird into
the building on the High Holy Days, but Meyer persuaded them to let him in
this one time, swearing that this parrot could pray. Wagers were made with
Meyer. Thousands of dollars were bet (even odds) that the parrot could NOT
pray, could not EVEN speak Yiddish or Hebrew, etc.
All eyes were on the African Grey during services. The parrot perched on
Meyer’s shoulder as one prayer and song passed. Meyer then heard not a peep from
the bird. He began to become annoyed, slapping at his shoulder, and
mumbling under his breath, “Daven!”(Pray!)
Nothing…………… “Daven…parrot, you can daven, so daven…come on,
everybody’s looking at you!” Nothing……………
After Rosh Hashanah services were concluded, Meyer owed his temple buddies and
the Rabbi over four thousand dollars!!
He marched home, upset and angry, saying nothing. Finally several blocks from
the Temple, the bird began to sing an old Yiddish song and was happy as a
lark.
Meyer stopped and glared at him. “You miserable bird, you cost me over four
thousand dollar!! Why? After I made your tfillin, and taught you the
morning prayers, and taught you to read Hebrew and the Torah. And after you
begged me to bring you to temple on Rosh Hashana. Why? How could you do this
to me?”
“Don’t be a schmuck,” the parrot replied. “Think of the odds we’ll get - on Yom
Kippur!”
