Happy Holidays!

I hope the title of this post wasn’t enough to ruin your day. Yes, I did that on purpose. Here’s why.

Growing up, my grandma and grandpa lived in East Longmeadow. There house was about 20 minutes away from ours and we would get together for things all the time but of course, holidays are some of the most memorable. My cousins would all come over and we’d have our big meal for Thanksgiving or Christmas and afteward, we’d bring a plate of food across the road with Grandpa to Mrs. Katz.

My grandparents house in E. Longmeadow today

We brought food over there on holidays. When it snowed, Grandpa would shovel her driveway too. Our family had been serving her for as long as even my oldest cousin could remember and she is about 6 years older than me.

Mrs. Katz’s house today

I wish I could tell you more about this sweet old lady who lived across the road, but all I know is that she was old – and Jewish. I don’t think I always connected the dots for why us bringing Mrs. Katz some food was significant when I was younger but it seems exceedingly significant now.  Our family serves – even making sure that we didn’t accidentally put any ham on her Christmas plate or cheese onions on her Thanksgiving plate. Our family serves those who are different than us – Mrs. Katz didn’t have any grandchildren or children that I ever met. She didn’t go to church with us.

I honestly haven’t thought about Mrs. Katz in a long time. I remember hearing that she had moved out to a nursing home not long before we moved to North Carolina. This week, though, I remembered her. It’s probably a combination of the Christmas season and the fact that I took my sixth graders on a field trip to visit a synagogue last week. Some of the parents were concerned about why I wanted to expose their children to “all these different beliefs” and “those people.” I even had one student who was not permitted not attend because of what his father believed.

My 6th graders at the synagogue

I guess I get it, a little. But I’m so thankful that my parents and grandparents didn’t try and “shelter” me from people who believed differently but rather used the opportunity to love and serve anyway, even to get me to ask questions about what I believe. I hope that is the legacy I leave for my kids.

So why Happy Holidays? Because a Jewish woman plays a key role in my fond Christmas memories. And if “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas” let’s me keep that, I’m OK with that. 🙂