The Apostles

The girl migit and I were driving to the YMCA a few weeks ago, and she told me that her bags were packed.  (She always packed a bag of coloring books, in case she didn't have anyone to play with in the childcare center that day.)   Anyway, the phrase made me burst into song... "My bags are packed, I'm ready to go, I'm standing here, outside your door... I hate to say good-bye..."  You know.  She asks me where that's from. When I burst into song, it's usually, "Mom?  Did you make that up, or is that real?"  So, I said, "Peter, Paul and Mary."  Her response?  "Oh, the disciples." Which made me realize, after I snort laughed on my Gatorade, that I was doing an okay job as Catholic convert from being a closet Catholic Jew-tile.  


We might have gone to our synagogue a few days a week, but I never really felt that tie to my faith.  While we did all the rituals, and attended lengthy services each weekend, it never clicked.  I am a Hebrew school drop-out.  My friend used to sing that Grease song to me.  "Hebrew school drop-out..." (I bet you just did it in your head.)  My mother blames herself, and I say she should re-evaluate that.  He did it.  He chose me.  I used to believe that G-d knew how stubborn and obstinate I was, that He purposely put me into a Jewish family knowing full well that I was going to rebel and do what he wanted in the first place.  Darn it!  Outsmarted by Him again!  


Geoff is a non-denominational Christian.  He says he was raised without religion, and it kind of happened for him while he was in college.  The migits are being raised Catholic, with a Jewish influence.  I just wasn't sure that my ability to guide them in this faith was sufficient.  If she knows that folk music was written by the apostles, then I'm doing it right.   


"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.  It has been a 4 months since my last confession.  I confess that my daughter believes that Peter, Paul and Mary are the disciples, and I did not correct her. For this, and all those other insignificant little venial sins, I am so sorry."  


Moral of the story- If you are raising your children into a faith, or just a belief in a higher power, do it through your actions, not through a hippy band from the 60's.