I am in a laundromat in London. I hear a young man speak to someone. I catch his eye.
“New York?” I ask.
He gives a bit of a shocked grin, and says, “That’s right!”
In fact he is Matt S, a writer for New Yorker Magazine here in London on a 2-week assignment. Whilst my clothes are washing, and his finish washing and start drying, we have quite a nice conversation. He is covering Islam in England and the recent speech restrictions enacted there. We chat a bit about magazine writing, families, his college (Swarthmore), a colleague who is also an alumnus. He is very friendly and the conversation is very, very easy.
As he is folding up his last bit of clothing, I tell him, “My friends are in the British Museum, but I believe I have had the better time!” He seems humbly incredulous, but I am sincere.
G^d indeed made all the many, many marvels of the British museum which is ranked among the top 5 natural history museums in the world. But G^d’s supreme creation is NOT nature, but Matt S.
And as Bob Cratchit’s son Tim once said, “May G^d Bless us, everyone (Matt S)!”