A Wholesome Restroom Stop

5/8/2026

You’re driving down the highway and your four-year-old son says he needs to use the restroom. But the closest one is twenty minutes away, and he can’t wait that long. What do you do?

I don’t know what one is supposed to do, but when it happened to us last month on our way back home from NY, we pulled off to the side of the road so Mendel could relieve himself beside the car.

Suddenly another car slowed and parked right behind us. The driver was a young man in his twenties or thirties. He asked us if we were okay, we said we were, and off he swerved right back onto the highway.

Hadassah and I were touched by this gentleman’s kindness. Surely he had somewhere to go, so why did he stop on the side of a highway to check in on absolute strangers?

We looked back at his car driving beside our own, and we got the answer.

The driver was wearing a yarmulke.

You can't stop on the side of the highway for every stopped car. But you do if it’s family. And when he saw another visibly Jewish family pulled over, he stopped to make sure we were okay.

I quickly sped up a little and drove alongside his car, signaling to him. We opened our windows, and I thanked him for stopping. I didn’t catch his name.

Through the wind and noise of passing cars, he shouted that he was listening to a song made in memory of the great Rabbi of Kerestir, whose yahrzeit it was that day. And so, driving along the highway, we each raised the volume in our cars, and we both played the song and sang together until our cars parted as we continued on our respective drives.

I share this story because there is growing chatter recently encouraging people to remove visible items of clothing that identify them as Jewish. Earlier this week, an article went viral about British Jews removing their yarmulkes as they walk the streets of London.

So I write this to emphasize that while it can sometimes be difficult to dress visibly Jewish, choosing to do so will unfailingly lead to the most beautiful and heartwarming experiences imaginable, bringing you in touch with family members you’ve never met.

And that is how, while driving down the highway on a beautiful and sunny spring afternoon, the simple act of dressing Jewish gave me a new appreciation for what it means to have the largest family in the world.

It means you have a family whose names you might not know. It means you have a family with whom you may disagree. And it means you have a family that will stop for you on the side of the road to make sure you’re okay.

Tzvi