It’s late Friday afternoon. 7:30, to be exact. It’s the usual Erev Shabbos panic. Still need to put the cholent on, fold one more load of towels, and half a dozen other last minute erev shabbos necessities. And then the phone rings. “Mom, it’s for you. The lady says it’s an emergency.”
Not terribly unusual for me, since I deal with people in crisis in the community. Little did I dream that the emergency would be mine.