The Power of One “Amen”: How a Simple Minyan Encounter Transformed a Jewish Life

Rabbi Aharon Nachman Toisig, a senior lecturer at the Tal Torah yeshiva, shared a remarkable story:

“Several decades ago, my father needed to lead the Mincha prayer as the chazzan on the yahrzeit of his own father. That afternoon he happened to be in a place where minyanim were scarce, and to his great distress he realized he did not have a quorum of ten men. He gathered one Jew after another, seven, eight, nine… but they simply could not find a tenth. Sunset was approaching, and my late father decided to take an unusual step. He went outside, stopped the first passerby near the synagogue, and asked him for a favor: to come in and complete the minyan.

A First Visit to a Synagogue

“That man was not someone raised in a religious environment. In fact, he had never set foot in a synagogue before, not even on Yom Kippur or for his own bar mitzvah. My father explained that he urgently needed a tenth Jew who could answer ‘Amen,’ just as a personal kindness, since it was the anniversary of his father’s passing.

“The man had a good heart and agreed to help. He saw that my father was truly distressed and wanted to assist. But he had a problem: ‘I don’t know how to say Amen,’ he admitted. ‘When do you say it, at the beginning of the prayer or at the end?’ My father reassured him, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll signal to you each time you need to answer Amen.’

“Does My Amen Even Matter?”

“‘But I don’t have a kippah,’ the man added. My father lifted the brim of his hat slightly, removed the large kippah from his own head, and placed it on the man’s bare scalp. Then came the most painful question: ‘But I’m not religious,’ he said. ‘What value does my Amen even have? Does it mean anything at all?’

“My father was shaken by the question. ‘What do you mean? Of course it has value! Your soul is precious. You are a Jew, a descendant of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov. Every time you say Amen, the angels in Heaven listen. It absolutely has meaning!’

“The man stood quietly throughout the entire prayer, cooperating fully. Each time he was signaled to say ‘Amen,’ he answered. When told to respond ‘Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh,’ he followed along. At the end of the service, my father shook his hand warmly and said, ‘Thank you so much. You did me a great kindness. You helped me honor my father’s memory.’

Years Later: An Unexpected Reunion

“Years later,” Rabbi Toisig continued, “my father entered a shop in Jerusalem and noticed a man arriving with a beautiful family: modest daughters, sons wearing kippot and payot. The man recognized my father and asked, ‘Are you Rabbi Yaakov?’ My father replied, ‘Yes, my name is Yaakov. How do we know each other?’

“The man was almost offended. ‘You don’t recognize me? Everything I have is because of you. You taught me how to say Amen. You told me my soul was important. You helped me understand what it means to be a Jew. The warm words you spoke penetrated me deeply and would not let me continue living as I had before. I returned fully to Torah observance. Today I keep mitzvot, set aside time for Torah study, and try to make up for everything I once missed.’”