Jewish, Jewish, Jewish!

I never thought it would matter

so much.

Okay, I am Jewish.

Now can we move on to something else?

But no, it seems Jewishness

has become everything to everybody.

Friedl writes that I must be

more than simply Jewish in name,

but my name is not even Jewish at all:

Jutta Lieselotte.

It’s a fine German name.

It’s too German for the Nazis,

who also seem to want me to be more Jewish.

They have a new rule that says,

starting next year,

any Jewish girl with a German-sounding name

must add Sarah to it

(Israel for boys),

so everyone will know

who is Jewish

and who is not.

Not good enough for Friedl!

My heart and sentiments

must be Jewish, too, she writes.

What does this mean?

I should not eat ham, I know,

and I should not tempt Ruth Carlebach with ham.

I should do acts of loving-kindness.

Do I?

I will help Mother with the packing,

and be loving about it.

I will let my sister play with my friends and me,

and be kind to her,

even though she sometimes acts

like a baby.

Is that better?

It is confusing,

thinking about how to be Jewish.

Friedl is an older girl

visiting us from Berlin

with her sister and her parents.

I barely know her,

yet see how she seems to know me.

I am happy when Friedl moves on to a new topic,

which is of great interest to me:

a girl’s period,

and what she must do and use and wear

to remain clean and fresh during that time of month.

As I have not yet gotten my period,

I have many questions about this,

and Friedl answers them all.

I will be the most prepared girl ever,

if not the most Jewish.