Saturday, October 08, 2005
My Daughter, Myself.

This morning Chaya was da'avening out of a siddur she made in school. I sat with her, beaming with pride and wonderment.

Chaya is me. Even though she is 5 and I am 30, this child is me. When I was her age, I had the same curiosity, intelligence, and zest. So there's a part of me that's scared. What if this child - so much like me - pulls the same tricks I did? What if she grows up and makes the mistakes I made? G-d forbid!

I try to rationalize. I mean, as much as we're alike, my life was infinitely different at that age. I didn't even know what a siddur was when I was 5. My parents divorced when I was a baby, and I was raised by a single mother. I went to pre-school in a church, and at 6 had a new stepfather in my life.

Chaya has 2 parents who are committed. She goes to a religious school. She is growing up with shabbosim and yomim tovim, kosher food, shema and kisses at bedtime. Chaya is frum from birth!

Still, I worry.


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My Photo Name: Fancy Schmancy Anxiety Maven
Location: Chutz l'aretz - Outside of Brooklyn

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