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My journal about my conversion to Judaism. |
We are now in the midst of the holiday of Sukkot. It started on Wednesday at sundown and will end with the holiday of Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah. The first two days of Sukkot and the last two days of Sukkot (Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah) are non work days. Since they started on Wednesday at sundown, they ended when Shabbat began. There has two weeks this month that I have had a three-day holiday start on a Wednesday and there will be one more. Three-day holidays have been the talk of the ladies at my shul for the past year. I didn't understand the dread until this month. A holiday starting on a weekday is stressful enough with work and meetings before making it home with little time to prepare the house before candle lighting. I haven't had to cook, so I can't imagine cooking for a three-day holiday in addition to preparing the house. There is so much to remember and prepare for. There is no spending money or conducting business during a holiday. If an ingredient is forgotten, there is no making the dish for the holiday. If the wine runs out before the end of the holiday, there is no wine for Kiddush. That's just the beginning. There is no turning on lights or lighting a flame (the stove has to be lit already and stay on), no doing laundry, no cleaning, no doing dishes, no form of work at all. That also means, no tearing toilet paper. I have read about the toilet paper in the Shulchan Aruch and in the Shabbos Kitchen, but still don't understand it. I, however, do make sure that I have pre-ripped toilet paper for Shabbat and for holidays. A three-day holiday is a unique challenge. That can be a lot of toilet paper for one person, let alone if you host a dinner. I did not have time this week to prepare toilet paper for the three-day holiday and was left with whatever had I pre-ripped last holiday. I didn't run out, but it was close. I was nervous. I noticed that once a holiday begins, and I am not able to clean, I notice everything that is wrong with my apartment. It's not only the laundry that I didn't get folded. It's the floor that I didn't get mopped, the soap on the edges of the tub, the cobweb in the corner of the room, that one cup that didn't make it into the dishwasher, and on and on. It's stressful, because I have to stare at those little things for days knowing that I can't do anything about it. Then I worry that someone will come over and see how messy I am. I can hear my friends now telling me not to be so hard on myself, and that their homes are not perfect, and that they do forget things. They, after all, have years of experience, and I'm just learning. But that's the thing, I am just learning. I am learning in hopes of one day being a Jew. There were two instances that really hit me hard over the holiday, and I still haven't fully moved on from them. First, I need to say that it wasn't a person in the community that made me feel this way. As a strange woman who just showed up one day and never left, the women of this community have been nothing but loving, helpful, supportive, and welcoming. The people stress over asking me to do something as a goy (non-Jew), because they know that I try hard to be observant. Some even forget the fact that I am not a Jew (their words, not mine). It these moments that make me feel welcomed and accepted. I have been told, "Welcome to the tribe," on more than one occasion. The problem with that is the fact that I am not a part of the tribe yet. That became blatantly clear on these two occasions. The first was on Thursday. During the holiday service, the people go outside and shake the lulav and esrog in the sukkah. Someone who doesn't own one has to be "gifted" one by someone else. I watched as they shook the lulav and esrog and smelled the esrog. I was asked if I wanted to do it, and I said that I didn't think I could. When asked by someone if I would like their lulav and esrog, I said, "No, thank you," and someone said, "She can't. She's not a Jew." It's not the fact that I didn't do it, or even smell it (which I really wanted to do), or the words that confirmed my non-Jewish state; it's the fact that I was afraid to even touch them to smell them because I didn't want to touch something used for a holy purpose and defile them with my non-Jewish hands. And the fact that if I did do it, it wouldn't hold the same meaning to G-d that it would when everyone else in that tent did it. Seeing the joy on their faces as they shook the lulav and esrog, and wanting to know what it even smelled like made me feel so small and dumb. I took two days off of work because I am choosing this observance. I felt stupid and like an imposter. I was there because I chose to be there over doing anything else. I know that there is a certain significance in that, but it is after all, just a choice. That brings me to the second instance. It was after Minchah and Maariv prayers that we lit candles in the basement before going on the Sukkah Hop. I have lit candles for over a year. However, it was in that group of women where one young lady was helping the other young ladies and said after we lit, "Now you can ask G-d for anything. Share with G-d your hopes and dreams." It hit me hard. I have always prayed for my children, for friends, for the hostages, and for the soldiers during that time. Maybe it was the way that she said it, but all I could think is that there is only one that I want, to be a Jew. I couldn't break down in front of all those women, so I quickly prayed for my normal list of people and left the room. All the sukkahs that I was in were wonderful. All the food I was offered was delicious. It was fun going from sukkah to sukkah and seeing the different designs, hearing the laughter, and being with friends. If someone told me a year ago that I'd be sitting in a hut (multiple huts) with my coat on, in the dark or cold afternoon, fighting off bees, and enjoying every minute of it, I would have thought they were nuts. I did enjoy it. Even the bee entertainment. It was truly an amazing holiday. Why then have not gotten over those two instances? I don't know. |