MY FIRST BAR MITZVAH

Last weekend we attended a bar mitzvah for a girlfriend's thirteen year old son, Mac.   I was blessed to have taught many Jewish children throughout my time as a kindergarten teacher. From these beautiful experiences, I have a heartfelt connection with Judaism and the inspiring stories of Rosh Hashanah, Hanukkah and Passover.  However, this was was my first bar mitzvah.  

We arrived at the synagogue a few minutes late.  As we walked through the doors, there was a cute older gentleman putting on his yarmulke.  The doors were closed and the service had started.  We exchanged smiles and then he noticed that we were a little hesitant to enter into the service, and he asked if we needed any help. We told him this was our first time attending a bar mitzvah.  He then asked to see our seating assignment.  I immediately reached for my purse and then realized the invitation was in the car.  “Oh no, you didn’t bring the invitation?” he asked.  After pausing and reveling quietly at what was the panicked look on my face -- pure and utter confusion -- he smiled laughed and said he was kidding.  He motioned for us to go through the doors.  Luckily, there was a few empty spaces right where we walked in. 

We took a seat and took it all in.  The synagogue was gorgeous.  It was charming.  There were simple touches of gold throughout.  There were two women leading the ceremony.  One appeared in charge switching between English and Hebrew.  I assumed she was the rabbi; the other woman played her guitar and sang in accompaniment.  The 13-year old star of the ceremony, Mac, sat behind the rabbi.  He was dressed in a suit with a white shawl over his shoulders.  He looked and acted so much older than thirteen – the launch point of being a man was playing out in front of him.  As he recited the Torah with his parents and siblings next to him, I was moved by the strong emotions of pride I felt for him and his family, especially his mom as she is the one I could most relate to.  Her strength and light radiated upon her family.  Tears filled my eyes as I watched, proud to call her my friend.

Towards the end of the ceremony, the rabbi instructed us to take a piece of candy as it came around, and even though it seemed delayed gratification, we were to wait until she said "Mazol Tav" before we could do anything with them.  OK, I can do that.  


Because I have a sweet tooth, I leaned over to my husband and requested he get two for me.  He smiled and rolled his eyes.  The candy was passed to us.  And since we were at the end of the pew, I somehow ended up with two.  SCORE!  The universe was listening!  I slid the red one in my purse, thinking I would save it for later, or maybe even bring it home for O.  I opened up the orange Sunkist chewy and waited.   The rabbi continued as I got lost in the thought of the soft sugary jelly candy I was about to take in.  My mouth was watering and it wasn't even for chocolate.  

She sang some words and then said, "Mazol Tav!" I immediately put the candy in my mouth and closed my eyes.  When I opened my eyes, I realized that everyone was throwing theirs at Mac.  Wait, they are THROWING the candy.  It’s for Mac, not the guests?  Do I spit my candy out and throw it?  No, I can't do that.  Wait, where's my second one?  I picked up the red one and threw it towards Mac.  It was late.  So late it was like clapping after others have finished – or a late hit like the ones laid on the Bear’s, Jake Cutler, my husband told me later.  Oh well, at least it was in the wrapper.  


I smiled.  I then leaned over and told my husband what I did.  He giggled.  I giggled.  We giggled.  Later, I was told that this part of the ceremony is where we "shower the boy with sweetness".  All I can say is thank goodness I was given two.  The universe has a plan and just when one thinks the safety net won't be there, it appears.

I really enjoyed the Bar Mitzvah.  It was a ceremony celebrating family and friends.  Mac performed like a champ.  Every teenager should be celebrated like this.  Why in fact, I'm even considering contacting a rabbi this week to discuss converting.  After all, when I was 13 all I usually got was grounded.  Mac is grounded in a different way – the good way.  I can bet that Mac would have held the candy.  After yesterday’s discussion with O on the black and white, gray area of rules, she probably would have as well.  


When we got in the car,  I made the connection that this new experience is much like O's first day of kindergarten on the bus.  No seating assignment, seems like the majority of kids and adults know exactly what they are doing except for me, and then there's the funny guy...

On our way to the party at a posh hotel in Georgetown, I texted my girlfriend:
BAR MITZVAH ROCKED, KINDERGARTEN SUCKS!