day, did we wait so long in
getting started? Only now., as
I write these words, does it
occur to me that postponing
may have had less to do with
my desire to savor the in-
dependence that marriage
brought than with an un-
spoken fear of assuming this
awesome responsibility. Were
it not so many years ago,
perhaps I could peel away the
layers and discover whether
or not, deep down, I was
afraid. But I do know that I
consider myself exceedingly
fortunate to have been part of
a community where marriage
and children were axiomatic
to life itself, and where fear
and self-centeredness were e-
motions not openly indulged.
What if we had lived in a dif-
ferent time, and a different
place? The thought suddenly
frightens me.
The whole issue, reawakened,
makes me realize this: in the
tension that exists between
community and individual
needs, more often than not,
communal values impel per-
sonal growth and happiness
rather than inhibit them. One
rises to expectations set by
community, and one per-
forms — at times even be
yond one's own expectations.
For these five wonderful
children, I am grateful not
only to God and to my hus-
band, but also to the tradi-
tional Jewish community for
imparting its family ethic
me. This was a particularly
valuable gift in the 1960s, a
time when feminism was
sounding in my ears a new
sweet siren call that had yet
to incorporate the notion of
mothering as a form of
self-actualization.
Once . we had tasted the
sweetness of parenting, it
seemed natural to continue
right along. Each child rein-
• forced the decision to have
another—up to a point, of
course.
Moshe, David, Deborah,
J.J. and Goody were born
very close together—less
than six years between the
five of them. I leave it to the
curious reader to wonder .. .
Suffice it to say that were we
to do it all over again we
would want the same family
spacing. It has worked quite
beautifully.
Parent and Jew
A powerful and multifaceted
relationship exists here:
In the most obvious way,
each Jewish child swells the
ranks by one and thereby in-
creases the chances of Jewish
survival. No less significant,
children create the need for
institutions (synagogues and
schools) and celebration (rites
of passage), which in turn
strengthen Jewish communal
life.
But the converse is also
true. Jewish values, ritual
and celebration reinforce the
bonds of family life. When
performed with children,
ritual takes on a special
salience. Paradoxically, it
becomes more deadly serious,
yet more lighthearted. Ritual
and family fit. .
Take Shabbat, for example.
The leisurely festive meals,
singing zemirot (Sabbath
songs) at the table, everyone
dressed nicely, time for
prayer and for study with
children, no intrusions of the
workaday world, entertaining
and visting friends, time for
strolls, for family games . . . I
cannot imagine what our
family's life would be like if
we did not observe Shabbat.
Of this I am convinced: more
than any other population
segment in all of Jewish
history, dual-career couples
need Shabbat. And holidays: .
Pesach, Sukkot . . . it is no
accident that much of Jewish
ritual is celebrated with
feasting, for our ancestors
knew then what sociologists
know now: that the fabric of
family life is woven around
the dinner table.
Ritual and mitzvot rein-
force family in yet another
way, affecting the very
dynamics of parent-child rela-
tionship. I have come to
believe that it is easier to be
a parent if one also happens
to be a ritually observant
Jew.
A traditional Jew has the
responsibility to do all things
that any parent must do, yet
must also communicate a
whole set of beliefs and obser-
vances that constitute a
traditional Jewish way of life.
We have to teach our two-
year-olds to recite the Shema
Yisrael at bedtime, and to say
a bracha or two; a three-year-
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