> Jewish Parrot...
>
> Meyer, a lonely widower, was walking home along
> Delancy Street one day wishing something wonderful
> would happen in his life, when he passed a pet store
> and heard a squawking voice shouting out in Yiddish,
>
> "Quawwwwk...Wie machts du?" (How're ya doin')
>
> "Ja, du." (Yeah, you.)
>
> Meyer rubbed his eyes and ears. Couldn't believe it.
> Perfect Yiddish.
>
> The proprietor urged him, "Come in here, fella, and
> check out this parrot..."
>
> Meyer did.  An African Grey cocked his little head
> and said: "Wie? Sie sprechen Yiddish?" (What? Can
> you speak Yiddish?)
>
> In a matter of moments, Meyer had placed five
> hundred dollars on the counter and 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 late wife, Sarah,
> was when she was a young bride. About his family.
> About his years of working in the garment district.
> About Florida.
>
> The parrot listened and commented.
>
> They shared some walnuts.
>
> The parrot told him of living in the pet store, how
> lonely he would get on the weekends. They both went
> to sleep.
>
> Next morning, Meyer began to put on his Tfillin [prayer gear], all
> the while saying his prayers.
>    The parrot demanded to know what he was doing and
> when
> Meyer explained, the parrot wanted to do the same.
> Meyer went out and had a miniature set of tfillin
> hand made for the parrot.
>
> The parrot wanted to learn to daven [pray], and learned
> every prayer. He even wanted to learn to read
> Hebrew.
>
> So Meyer spent weeks and months, sitting and
> teaching the parrot, teaching him Torah. In time,
> Meyer came to love and count on the parrot as a
> friend  and fellow Jew.
>
> One morning, on Rosh Hashanah, Meyer rose and got
> dressed and was about to leave when the parrot
> demanded to go with him. Meyer explained that Shul
> was not a place for a bird, but the parrot made a
> terrific argument, so Meyer relented and carried the
> bird to Shul on his shoulder.
>
> Needless to say, they made quite a spectacle, and
> Meyer was questioned by everyone, including the
> Rabbi and the 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 parrot could daven.
>
> Wagers were made with Meyer.
>
> Thousands of dollars were bet that the parrot could
> NOT daven, could not 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 heard not a peep from the
> bird. He began to become annoyed, slapping at his
> shoulder and mumbling under his breath, "Daven!"
>
> Nothing.
>
> "Daven...parrot, you can daven, so daven...come on,
> everyone is looking at you!"
>
> Nothing.
>
> After Rosh Hashanah services were concluded, Meyer
> found that he owed his Shul buddies and the Rabbi
> over four thousand dollars..
>
> He marched home, so upset he said nothing to the
> parrot.
>
> Finally several blocks from the Temple the Parrot
> began to sing an old Yiddish song, as happy as a
> lark.
>
> Meyer stopped and looked at him.
>
> "Why? After I had tfillin made for you and taught
> you the morning  prayers, and taught you to read
> Hebrew and the Torah. And after you begged me to
> bring you to Shul on Rosh Hashana, why?  WHY?!?  Why
> did you do this to me?"
>
> "Meyer, don't be a schmuck," the parrot replied.
> "Think of the odds we'll get on Yom Kippur!"
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>



       
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