are words I will remember. They are particularly poignant right now.
Regular and long term readers of my witterings will be aware I have mentioned attending a Bar Mitzvah here in this state. I thought of it yet again yesterday and the day before. I thought of my Jewish friend who had come to tell me of the deaths of the Palestinian family. I thought of the Jewish family who invited us.
We came to know the Jewish family because the Senior Cat was asked to teach their son some conjuring tricks. B... was a highly intelligent and very able student. He came once a week with his mother and we came to know her as well. We eventually met his father and his sisters. They came for a meal here and the invitation was reciprocated.
As always other things began to take over in B..'s life and one of them was his preparations for his Bar Mitzvah. Would we, they asked, please come to it?
Yes, of course we would. We felt it was an honour to be invited. Did we really know them well enough to be invited to such an important occasion.
My parents knew very little about Judaism, about what might happen, about what they might be expected to do. I tried to explain from my own limited experience but they were still rather anxious. They did not want to do the wrong thing.
They need not have worried. From the time we arrived at the synagogue we were treated with the utmost courtesy. We were made very, very welcome. It was clear that B... and his family were very well thought of and, if we were their friends, we were to be made welcome.
The Senior Cat was full of questions. I quietly told the person who greeted us that he would be and please to realise that this was a genuine desire to know. Of course he could ask questions. It would be a pleasure to answer them.
We had to part for the service of course. I have to be honest and say I don't think my mother felt entirely comfortable. She always found it difficult to accept anything which challenged her own faith. I had some idea what to expect, indeed some of it was familiar.
The elderly woman next to me gave me an approving smile more than once. At the end of the service she actually thanked me.
Later there was a meal and dancing and there were the usual speeches. Right around us people asked us how we came to be there and said how good it was we had come. When we left one of the congregation escorted us to the car and we thanked him. As he shook hands with the Senior Cat he said, "You will always be welcome here".
I have thought of this many times since then but particularly recently. We were strangers. We knew nobody apart from B... and his family. Despite that the congregation made us welcome. We felt included. Now I cannot help wondering how this family would be received at a church, a mosque or a temple. I hope they would be welcomed and know one or two places where that would be so but would it be with the same warmth displayed for us on that occasion?
1 comment:
I have had a similar experience, and your post brought tears to my eyes. And I am quite sure that it would quite different in a church or a mosque.
Hilde in Germany
Post a Comment