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    The Truth About My Bat Mitzvah
    The Truth About My Bat Mitzvah
    The Truth About My Bat Mitzvah
    Ebook133 pages1 hour

    The Truth About My Bat Mitzvah

    By Nora Raleigh Baskin

    3.5/5

    ()

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    About this ebook

    I put my fingers up to my throat and touched the pointy Star of David, my grandmother's necklace, a delicate chain made up of countless tiny links. If I wear this, will people think I am Jewish?

    Is that what I want to be?


    Seventh-grader Caroline Weeks has a Jewish mom and a non-Jewish dad. When Caroline's nana dies around the same time that Caroline's best friend, Rachel, is having her bat mitzvah, Caroline starts to become more interested in her Jewish identity.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAladdin
    Release dateApr 28, 2009
    ISBN9781439164068
    The Truth About My Bat Mitzvah
    Author

    Nora Raleigh Baskin

    Nora Raleigh Baskin is the ALA Schneider Family Book Award–winning author of Anything But Typical. She was chosen as a Publishers Weekly Flying Start for her novel What Every Girl (Except Me) Knows, and has since written a number of novels for middle graders and teens, including The Truth About My Bat Mitzvah, The Summer Before Boys, and Ruby on the Outside. Nora lives with her family in Connecticut. Visit her at NoraBaskin.com.

    Read more from Nora Raleigh Baskin

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    Reviews for The Truth About My Bat Mitzvah

    3.5/5

    7 ratings5 reviews

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    • 3/5
      This book reminded me a lot of "Are You There God? It's me Margaret". The story begins as Caroline loses her grandmother and inherits her Star of David necklace. Meanwhile her best friend is planning a Bat Mitzvah party. Caroline deals with the loss of her grandmother and her own nagging questions about the religion her parents never practice. Trying not to hurt the feelings of her Christian father and Jewish mother both of whom have an ambiguous relationship with organized religion Caroline navigates the big questions.
    • 5/5
      This is a really good book about a girl trying to find out who she is. Im christian and i read it and like it which means that your religion shouldnt influence your love for the book. i would really recommend it
    • 4/5
      A wonderful story about a teen who learns about herself and her religious identity, after the death of her beloved Nana. I recommend for children of interfaith marriages (Specifically Jewish and Christianity), as this book discusses the struggle of a young teen in trying to identify herself within two different religions.
    • 3/5
      Identity and religion. Well done. Will have an audience.
    • 4/5
      This was a sweet little book. Caroline is sad when her grandmother dies and she receives a Star of David necklace from her. Slowly she begins to explore her Jewish identity as her best friend prepares for her bat mitzvah. She begins to understand the grown-up relationships around her are not as simple as she assumed. She wonders if she has the right to become bat mitzvah because her family is lax about keeping the customs and religious days and her father is not Jewish. But then, with the help of her friends and family, she starts to decide that maybe it is okay to be Jewish and that she has the right to be. The Little Bookworm

    Book preview

    The Truth About My Bat Mitzvah - Nora Raleigh Baskin

    1

    The Funeral

    I was doing okay right up until I got to the doorway and saw her coffin. My grandmother’s body is inside there, I thought, and I couldn’t take another step into that room. I stopped short and my dad nearly bumped into me.

    Go on, Caroline, he said to me quietly. Just walk inside and sit down.

    Since we were the immediate family, we had been waiting in a special room. Everyone else, all my grandmother’s friends and, I suppose, lesser family members, were already sitting out there, in seats like pews. Sitting, talking quietly. Everyone looked sad or at least serious. While we—my mom and dad and my little brother, Sam, my grandfather, and some old lady who I had never seen before—had been ushered in here. In this fancy room with the heavy furniture, oriental rugs, thick drapes, and pitchers of water with lemon, like we were special somehow. In a weird way it was like a birthday party, when you get treated differently for really no reason at all except that you were born—an event you personally had nothing to do with.

    And now it was time for the service to start.

    I can’t, I told my dad. My feet wouldn’t move and I didn’t know why.

    My mom was still sitting in a big overstuffed chair in the corner of the waiting room, still crying. She had been crying all morning and on and off since we found out three days ago. It was her mother, after all, my nana. Even Sam was unusually quiet. Maybe he was just uncomfortable in his suit and tie.

    My dad bent down and whispered into my ear, Caroline, she’s not really in there.

    What? I turned to him and for a second I thought this whole thing had been a big mistake. We were in the wrong funeral home, the wrong place altogether. My grandmother didn’t die. She wasn’t inside that big, long box.

    Not really, my dad went on. It’s not her. Not the real Nana, not the Nana you remember. Don’t be afraid. Just take the first step. I am right next to you.

    And suddenly I could.

    My feet started moving, one in front of the other. I followed my grandfather, with my dad beside me, my brother and mom holding hands, and then that old lady. We all made our way down to the front row, right in front of the coffin.

    I sat down.

    Everything after that was a blur. People got up and spoke but I didn’t really listen to what they were saying. Especially not the rabbi who talked forever, even though he clearly had no idea who my grandmother was. Then he pronounced our names wrong. He mixed up my father and my uncle and he called me Carolyn instead of Caroline.

    I looked over at my mom, who despised any kind of organized anything, religion in particular. She didn’t even catch my glance as she normally would when she found something was false or insincere—and we would both roll our eyes knowingly. Now she was just crying.

    I looked straight ahead and tried to remain calm. But the coffin was only a few feet in front of me. So close, I imagined I could see my nana, lying on her back with her hands folded the way they show it in the movies. Only this wasn’t a movie and she really was in there, all closed up with a heavy wooden lid on top of her, so near to her face.

    You know I can’t go anywhere, my nana would always say, until I put my face on. She meant her makeup. My nana wouldn’t leave her house without all her makeup on.

    Then I started breathing really fast through my mouth and I felt dizzy. The tip of my nose was tingling. We would have to stand up soon. What if I fainted?

    The thought of fainting made my heart beat really fast.

    Dad? I whispered. My voice was shaking. Maybe I was going to throw up.

    My dad took my hand in his and held it tightly.

    Remember, your nana’s really not in there, he said again. She’ll always be with you. My dad took our two hands together and pressed them against my chest. "She’ll always be in here," my dad said.

    I put my other hand on top of his so he wouldn’t take his hand away, not yet; I wasn’t ready. I don’t know if I believed him or not, but in a way it didn’t matter. At least, I wasn’t going to faint. I let out a slow breath. Then suddenly I started to cry. I would never see my nana again, and there had been so many things I didn’t get to tell her.

    Like how much I loved her.

    I don’t think I really ever let her know.

    2

    No, She Can’t Be Related to Me

    It seems like it shouldn’t be, that you shouldn’t get hungry when somebody dies, but you do. I was starving, actually, since none of us had had breakfast that morning. It was just all we could do to get into our best clothes without killing each other. My mother couldn’t find a pair of stockings without a tear since she usually wears pants under her white hospital coat. Sam didn’t have a real tie and he refused to wear a clip-on.

    I’m seven years old, he screamed.

    My dad was upset that he didn’t have any clean shirts from the cleaner. And I was pretty much left to my own devices, until I came downstairs dressed in pants.

    You can’t wear that, my mother said. Her eyes were all red and puffy. She looked awful.

    Why not? I asked. They were dressy khaki capris and I had on a nice top. I had worn the exact same outfit when we went to my cousin’s graduation just a month ago.

    Because you can’t.

    I was going to argue but my dad gave me that look and I knew what it meant. So I went back upstairs and put on a long skirt and my platform sandals, which were pinching my feet. It was crowded here in my grandparents’ apartment, which was filled with mostly older people who now seemed to have come alive. They were chatting and even laughing. I guess it was easy to forget why we were here and Nana wasn’t. But not for me. Being in this apartment without her felt so wrong.

    Even with all the mirrors draped in sheets. Even with the little cardboard boxes we were supposed to sit on, but nobody was. And even if it didn’t feel right, I was still really hungry.

    It had been hard to get close to the table laid out with cold cuts, pickles, olives, bagels, rye bread, and all sorts of spreads. And soda—I never get to drink soda. But I finally had a plate of food and a little plastic cup of ginger ale, when the old lady who had been in the waiting room at the funeral home came over and introduced herself to me.

    I’m your great-aunt Gertrude, the lady said. She held out her hand.

    My what? I asked, and at the same time I found myself studying her face a little closer. An aunt? Of mine?

    My grandfather suddenly stepped up.

    Caroline, this is my sister, Poppy explained. My older sister, Gert. We haven’t seen much of each other. Then he turned as if speaking only to her. Not in a while…too long a while, he said.

    I suppose it was possible I had relatives I didn’t know about, but something told me there was more here, something more than the usual Oh, it’s been ages.

    Nice to meet you, I said. I gestured to the plate and cup filling both my hands as if she maybe hadn’t noticed them before, but I had a feeling she was the kind of lady who usually got her way. She was tall, especially for an old lady, and her face was kind of droopy and mean looking.

    I am very sorry about your grandmother, she said, finally dropping her hand. From what I hear, you two were very close.

    I lowered my eyes at the mention of my nana. Something seemed odd about this whole situation.

    I hope to see you again very soon, my new aunt Gert said to me.

    I was hoping not.

    When everyone had left, it was just us: me and Mom and Dad, Sam and Poppy. Someone had been hired to clean everything up, so we had nothing to do but sit. For a long time no one said anything. Sam was about to fall asleep on my dad’s shoulder.

    My poppy sighed. Amy, do you want to look at her jewelry? He was talking to my mother.

    She looked

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