Through the Generations

     Judaism equals love. That is the lesson generations of women passed down on my mother’s side of my family. My great-grandparents, Jacob and Sarah Traub, emigrated to America from Russia and the Ukraine in the early 1900s. My great-aunt, whom I called Tante Mollie, was born in Harlem in 1908. My grandmother, Grandma Fannie, was born two years later, also in Harlem. For women of the 1920s and 1930s, my great-aunt and grandmother were very progressive. They both went to college, which was almost unheard of during that time period. Tante Mollie went to law school and Grandma Fannie got a Master’s Degree and taught music and German. They both were strong-willed in their ambitions, personal lives, and Jewish traditions. I am told that my great-grandmother, Bubbie, not only taught her daughters to be strong, independent women living in America, she also taught them the importance of family and Jewish traditions. These values influenced the Traub family rituals when Tante Mollie and Grandma Fannie started their own families during the 1930s and the 1940s. 

     Many of these rituals and customs involve family, holidays, and food. Throughout their lives, my grandmother and great-aunt did everything together. In the 90+ years that each of them lived, except for short periods of time, they never lived more than a few blocks away from each other. Their lives and families were very much intertwined. On Purim, they would engage in marathon baking sessions of hamantashen, doled in large trays to their children and grandchildren. Every Hanukkah, my extended family would gather at Tante Mollie’s house for the annual family party, the smell of latkes wafting through the house down to the basement where presents were piled high under the piano. Every Passover, Grandma Fannie hunched over our stove “making it rain” with matzo meal, creating her ever-expanding matzo balls, just as her mother did years before.  

      My grandmother and aunt passed down the importance of tradition to my mother and her cousins. Even though my mom worked full time as a speech pathologist and teacher, Friday night dinners were a weekly staple in our house. Every Friday night, my mom, little sister, and I lit the candles together with the Shabbat table set. Kiddish was recited and a delicious meal was enjoyed with love and laughter. Many nights included home-baked challah if my mom had time during her busy week. No matter how hectic our schedules were, my family gathered at the Friday night dinner table, oftentimes including our childhood and teenage friends and extended “family” members.  

      Holidays were even more of a special time in my house growing up. Every Jewish holiday was and is tied to specific traditions and memories. Every Yom Kippur, my mom bakes her famous apple pies to be served with honey to break the fast with a sweet start for the new year. Every Passover, my mom hosts both Seders, cleaning and cooking for days. Until she died in 2005, my grandmother continued to make matzo ball soup, invading my mother’s kitchen with her enormous pots. My mother even created a family cookbook, which she gave to me, my sister, and my sister-in-law, including many of our cherished recipes.

       One of the most important days of my Jewish life occurred in February of 1983. Several months before, my mother and grandmother joined our synagogue’s adult bat mitzvah class. Although they went through the bat mitzvah studies with their class, they waited to recite Torah until I turned 12 in February of 1983. Little did we know, our bat mitzvah day would be fraught with excitement not only because of its significance but also because of the weather. The ceremony was to take place on February 13, but that weekend New York City was hit with a 23-inch snowstorm, one of the largest in the city’s history. The weather was so bad we had to postpone our special day until a week later. Finally, on President’s Day, February 21, we ascended the bimah together in front of our friends and family.

        I’m not exactly sure where the idea originated that all three of us would become bat mitzvah together. My mother says it was my idea but all I remember is how special I felt being part of three generations of women that in our own small way were making history. This was the first time any of us knew of three generations of women in one family becoming bat mitzvah together. Our Torah portion was Terumah and was split into three parts by our rabbi. My grandmother recited the first part, my mom, the second, and I recited the third. I felt becoming bat mitzvah together created a unique bond between my mother, grandmother, and me that no one else shares.  

        In Judaism, the highest regard is given to women of valor. A special prayer called Ayshet Chayil says the value of a woman of character, strength, and kindness is far beyond pearls. To me, my mother, aunt, and grandmother are the best examples of women of valor. They taught me that a woman can have hopes and dreams for herself while raising a traditional Jewish family. They taught me the importance of cherishing family traditions and rituals. Finally, they taught me that being a loving Jewish mother and wife is the hardest yet most important and rewarding job I will ever have.

       When my son was born five years after my grandmother died, we chose to name him after her. He is kind and loving yet also stubborn and strong-willed like she was. I take pride in keeping my family traditions alive and sharing them with my husband, son, and with many other friends and family. These traditions are at the heart of how I define myself as a Jewish woman and mother. Friday night dinners are a sacred time in my house with candles lit and Shabbat dinner enjoyed together. Every Purim, I bake hamantashen for friends and family (perfecting my own recipe) just like my mother and grandmother used to do. In my soul, I know I am making my grandmother and mother proud. Again, Judaism equals love.

Sheryl Hausman is currently the Office Administrator at the Reform Temple of Forest Hills in Queens, New York. Born and raised in Bayside, Queens, she attended the University of Albany, where she received Bachelor’s Degrees in English and Communications. After spending a year in Israel, she went on to get a Master's Degree in Visual and Media Arts from Emerson College in Boston. Sheryl worked in television for 16 years, then shifted gears to start working as an Executive Assistant and Office Administrator for several different Jewish organizations. She lives in New York with her husband of 19 years and her 11-year-old son, who is the light of her life.