A few years ago, my friend and I were both invited to dinner in a restaurant in the Jewish Quarter of New York City.
I remember being nervous, wondering what it was like to be a non-Jew and, more importantly, why we were invited to this fancy restaurant.
We were both Jewish, but, as I recall, it was also a dinner hosted by a restaurant where I once worked.
My friend’s mother is a Jew, and my mother-in-law is a practicing Jew, so it was a nice little introduction.
But the topic of the meal never came up.
The waitress asked, “Are you Jewish?”
And we both immediately understood that the waiter was Jewish.
It wasn’t until we were seated at the table that I learned that this was not the first time my friend had been asked this question.
I was then introduced to an anecdote about my grandmother, who was a member of the ultra-Orthodox Jewish community.
Her father was a prominent rabbi who lived in New York.
My grandmother lived in Brooklyn.
Her family, who were originally from Germany, lived in a house with four other people.
There was a big Jewish community in that house.
And then, my grandmother was the only one of the four who didn’t have a Jewish husband.
So, it became very clear that my grandmother had to have a very specific set of Jewish values that made her Jewish.
So when she told her story, it really struck me that she didn’t feel like a normal Jew.
She felt like someone who was different.
My aunt’s father, a prominent member of ultra-orthodox Judaism, was one of those people.
My grandfather, who is a very important figure in the ultra, ultra-religious world, was another person who didn