On our last trip to Paris we planned to spend an evening catching up with our friend Jane. An artist and writer, she had gone to Paris to live and work a dozen years earlier. Jane met us in the elegant dining room of our hotel and we were having drinks when my cell phone rang. “Hello, this is Rabbi Zeller replying to your message.”, said an unfamiliar voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t call back sooner, but the factory was closed for Passover. How can I help you?” Then I...