From the time I was little, I wanted to be a part of the Jewish people. I have no deep reasoning for that. I found out about the Jews at Sunday school, and knew that is where I belonged. The stork dropped me off at the wrong house.
In our home, there was no mention of Jews except in positive terms. My father was the more spiritual one. He felt that Jews had a special relationship with G-d, and that Christians connected to him through that relationship.
My mom’s family was different. Although they did not go to church, they were “saved.” Everyone who did not believe the way they did was condemned. That meant Catholics and Jews. They mocked and belittled anyone who believed differently.
Over the years, many people have told me their story. Everyone has a different journey. There is no one reason why a person becomes a Jew. Some had a religious experience. Others could not accept the idea of a trinity. Some found it through love. I only knew I wanted to be Jewish. My journey began when I was in second grade.
Until my teacher insisted we have a library card, I did not read. Children’s books bored me. I had no interest in Horton. I wanted to learn about Judaism. It took a lot of pestering, but mum finally took me to the library. She gave me 15 minutes to find a book. That was 14 minutes too long. The entire Judaic section consisted of one book. The title was something like, “Why I am Jewish.”
Although the book was very dry and the author didn’t seem too thrilled to be Jewish, I devoured every word. When I took the book to school, I was told the book was inappropriate. She branded me a rebel. She was right. To be a Jew is to be a rebel.
Fortunately, more books have been published on Judaism. I read everything I could find. I found out it is not easy to convert to Judaism. Jews did not seek converts, but it was also an open religion and there was an established path to join the Jewish people.
Eventually, a friend suggested I call her Rabbi. She knew he worked with converts. I had never met a Rabbi, and I hoped he would not hang up on me. A few days later we met. There were no warm fuzzies from him. He listened and felt my motives were sincere. He explained the process, and told me it would be at least a year. He gave me a list of books to read, and I started studying with a group. I was 19 years old.
A year later, I had to write an essay, “Why I want to become Jewish” and I was given an oral exam. Afterward I was I told it was time to go to the mikvah. He told me there would be another woman who was converting, but I was his only convert.
When I got to the mikvah, the lady who would watch us immerse checked our fingernails to make sure they were short and free of polish. The other woman was getting married in a couple of days and she was really upset she had to cut her nails. She said she was only doing this to get married. As far as I was concerned, this was the most important day of my life. I was shocked she did not feel the same.
A few minutes later, I stood in the mikvah. I could see my rabbi and the witnesses, whom I did not know, out of the corner of my eye. The mikvah attendant watched me immerse three times. She announced each as “kosher” and the Rabbi announced my Hebrew name, Nechama Dina bat Avraham Avinu, and told me I was now a part of the Jewish people. I was happy and relieved. When I got ready to leave I was given my certificate and was told, “mazel tov.” The journey that had begun when I was a child was over.
I was so naïve. My journey as a Jew was just beginning.
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