, , , , , , ,

“Hi Mom” I said, happy to catch my mom in California, where it’s just Christmas Eve; here in Perth we were well into a hot summer Christmas Day.  I was trying to figure out what to bake for the Christmas Dinner we were invited to later in the day with my husband’s relatives.  My husband had become Jewish as an adult.  We celebrated with his family, but I wasn’t quite sure what to make or bring…and it was good to hear my mom’s familiar voice.

“We can just talk for a few minutes, Sherz, your brother will be here soon to pick us up for dinner. We’re all going out.”

Ah – of course, it was Christmas Eve for my Jewish Family in America.  “Chinese?” I asked, laughing.

“Right!” Mom said, a smile in her voice.

I told her we just had a few minutes too, as my 6-year old was eager to make chocolate cup-cakes for the Australian family dinner.

“It’s great” Mom replied “I’m glad you can celebrate with your Australian family and the kids can learn about others too.  They know who they are, and they’ll have a good time.  Send my love to your in-laws.  Ah – gotta go, your brother’s here.”

In a thousand years, I never would have imagined that I’d  have kids baking for Christian grandparents’ Christmas Celebration with Jewish grandparents support, encouragement and love.  This year, though, I know that whatever we bring. we’ll have reason to celebrate both the love we share and the distinctions which enrich us all.