It starts the night before
A flatbed truck pulls up on a quiet street after dark. By streetlight, a crew bolts a timber frame to its back, hangs the walls, lays the s’chach and builds the steps.

In the morning it drives into Manhattan and parks at the curb. People stop on their way past, and someone asks, “Are you Jewish? Would you like to shake a lulav?”


בַּיּוֹם הַהוּא אָקִים אֶת סֻכַּת דָּוִיד הַנֹּפֶלֶת
“On that day I will raise up the fallen sukkah of David.”

















