Here is a story from Judith Ish-Kishor . . .
The holiest night of the year for Jews is the eve of the “Day of Atonement” or “Yom Kippur.” A fast from sunset to sunset begins on this eve. And the Jews gather at the synagogue where the cantor chants the “Kol Nidrei” the prayer asking for forgiveness for impulsive vows, broken because they are too difficult to carry out.
On one such eve in a small Russian town, the Jews and their cantor had thus assembled in the synagogue. But the rabbi was unexpectedly absent.
How could this be? He was never late for any service, much less could he be late for this, the most important service of the year!
The congregation began to worry. The rabbi was an old man. Perhaps illness had detained him. Perhaps he had fainted. The shammash (synagogue assistant) was sent to look for him.
The shammash went to the rabbi’s home, but he was not there. The shammash returned to synagogue perplexed. Wild ideas arose in the Jews’ minds. They could not begin the service without him.
Now the rabbi had in fact left his home with plenty of time to arrive prior to the service. But as he passed a shabby home on the roadside, he heard a baby crying. The baby’s ten year-old sister exclaimed in desperation: “Oh what shall I do? I can’t stop him. What shall I do?”
The old rabbi thought of the synagogue and the Yom Kippur service shortly to begin. He must not delay. Yet how could he pass by and not help, where children seemed to be grieving?
The rabbi entered the home and asked the girl where her parents were. The girl replied that her parents had gone to the synagogue.
The rabbi then picked up the screaming baby and held him in his arms against one shoulder, meanwhile stroking and patting his back to relieve stomach pains. He also clicked his tongue and made funny faces to cheer up the baby. The baby quieted down and began pulling at the rabbi’s white beard.
The rabbi held the infant close, swaying him backwards and forwards, intoning the chant: “Let us forgive the entire congregation of Israel.” The infant then fell asleep.
Meanwhile, the rabbi had sent the sister to the synagogue to find her mother. As the mother arrived home, she exclaimed: “Rabbi! This is why you are late! “Oh, how can I thank you!”
The rabbi gave the sleeping child back to the mother and hurried to the synagogue.
The rabbi then spoke to the congregation placidly, as though nothing unusual had happened.
“It is right that we grown-up people, on this day of repentance, should weep and beat our breasts, when we think of our sins. But I could not bear to see little children crying their hearts out, and weeping when they haven’t sinned at all.”