51 and 53 Apple Lane

I grew up at 53 Apple Lane. In my mind, if it happened at 51 Apple Lane but not at 53 Apple Lane, it must have been a Jewish thing. So, when the Weinsteins ate bagels, it was a Jewish thing. If they drank Bloody Mary's on Sunday, it was a Jewish thing. If they hung "famous" paintings on their walls, it was a Jewish thing. These were all things my Italian/German Catholic family did not do, so it had to be a Jewish thing!

The Weinsteins celebrated Chanukah/Hanukkah/Hanukah. My Dad pronounced it "Sha-noo-ka." My family celebrated Christmas. My Dad always looked forward to the holiday, I can't remember which one it was, when Mrs. Weinstein brought him some pickled herring! Mrs. Weinstein enjoyed eating my Mom's pizzelles. Susan and Karen came to our house on Christmas Day to see what Santa brought. And, Mrs. Weinstein was always happy when my parents decorated the outside of the house with lights and lit up the Christmas tree in the front window. It was Mrs. Weinstein who loaded us girls into the station wagon to drive through town to check out all of the Christmas lights!

The Weinsteins were the only Jews I knew until about 1985. I'm sure I knew others, but I couldn't name them. I went to Catholic school, and just about everyone in my neighborhood was Christian.

One of the girls was born on Christmas Eve, which was simply December 24th to her. I used to wonder whether she was something special because she was a Jewish baby born on the same night as Jesus was born. One night, on her birthday, she waited up all night long for the jolly guy and his sleigh to land on my roof! Christmas was never the same after that!

Why am I thinking about the Weinstein girls today? I came across the "interfaith parenting" books I've collected through the years and decided to re-read them. The first one was "How I Saved Hanukkah" by Amy Goldman Koss. I thought about how lucky this Catholic girl was to have two wonderful Jewish friends to grow up with in the suburbs. Yes, we were different in some ways, but in our day-to-day life, we were just a gaggle of girls having fun! I traveled with them. I shopped with them. We rode bikes together. Their parents were like parents to me. I can't imagine growing up without them as my neighbors. I always knew they were Jewish, but in the 60's and 70's in our planned community it didn't matter.

Was I oblivious? Did they know they were Jewish in a very Christian world? Did they feel comfortable in my Catholic home? Did they enjoy the Christmas decorations and coming over to see my presents? I wonder. I know that there was never a day when I felt uncomfortable in their home.

Now I wonder if my kids' friends ever think if it happens at our house and not at their house, "Oh, it must be a Jewish thing!" 

If your child has friends or cousins of the other faith, I encourage you to track down a copy of How I Saved Hanukkah.