Although we advertised ourselves as a Jewish preschool, it was impossible to ignore the plea in those parents’ eyes. We ended up accepting many children whose fathers were Jewish, or whose parents assured us they were in the midst of conversion.
Svetlana* wasn’t Jewish, nor was her husband, and she had no plans of conversion. But she was insistent on enrolling her son in our school.
“Jews are smart,” she said. “I want my son surrounded by them!”
Knowing how much Svetlana and her family had suffered to make it here, my wife eventually accepted her child.
A few months later, in a conversation with Svetlana, my wife asked her what had pushed her to insist on Jewish schooling for her son.
“I know we’re not Jewish, but I’ve always felt connected to the Jewish people,” she explained. “My mother was born Jewish, although she wasn’t a practicing Jew.”
“Now I understand what gave you this push!” my wife cried. “It’s called the pintele Yid, the spark inside every Jew that can never be extinguished, no matter how buried.”
No one is sure what the future holds for these refugees, but while Svetlana makes her home in Cyprus, we’re delighted to welcome her and her family to our programs and events, and teach them about our shared heritage.
