Honey and Me

1. Title Page
2. Dedication
3. Shabbat
4. Chapter 1: Our Shul
5. Chapter 2: Honey’s House
6. Chapter 3: My House
7. Chapter 4: Deb?
8. Chapter 5: A Rose by Any Other Name
9. Days of Awe
10. Chapter 6: Aginéni
11. Chapter 7: Succot
12. Chapter 8: What Goes Around … Comes Around
13. Chapter 9: Brothers
14. Mitzvah
15. Chapter 10: Control
16. Chapter 11: Bat Mitzvah Season
17. Chapter 12: Right Side Up
18. Chapter 13: Orange Juice
19. Chapter 14: Orange Crush
20. Chapter 15: Something Sparkly
21. Chapter 16: Blessed Is the True Judge
22. Chapter 17: Results
23. Passover
24. Chapter 18: Bitter Herbs
25. Chapter 19: Mah Nishtanah …
26. Chapter 20: … Why Is This Night Different?
27. Feast of Weeks
28. Chapter 21: First Fruits
29. Chapter 22: Cleaning House
30. Author’s Note
31. Glossary
32. Acknowledgments
33. About the Author
34. Copyright

“Are you going to ask him for the Yum-Yums?” I whisper to Honey. It’s Saturday morning and we are scampering across the lobby of our synagogue on our way to the candyman. Mr. Eisner only gives Yum-Yums, the best kind of lollypop, to the kids he really likes.

“Don’t we deserve the best?” Honey says with a wink as we reach the door to the men’s section.

“You two think you’re so special, don’t you?” someone calls to us. We turn around. Honey’s younger sister Miriam is sitting on the counter of the cloakroom, watching us as she sucks on a lollypop—the bad kind. Miriam is ten and very annoying.

“I don’t think it, I know it,” Honey calls back, putting her arm around me and sticking her tongue out at Miriam. I don’t feel special like Honey is, but I grin anyway and put my arm around my best friend. Then we each use our other hand to pull open the double doors to the main sanctuary.

As the doors close softly behind us, I inhale the familiar smell of woolen prayer shawls, dark suits, leathery aftershave, and old prayer books. Everyone in front of us is standing and swaying slightly, many with their prayer shawls draped over their heads. Honey catches my eye and I nod: We’ll wait back here by the door until the silent Amidah prayer is over.

“Hi, Milla!” My little brother, Max, whisper-shouts, spying me from my dad’s regular spot about a third of the way into the sanctuary. Max waves and scoots over on the velvet-cushioned bench of the synagogue pew to make room for me.

“Shhhh.” A few men cloaked in their cream and black-striped prayer shawls turn around. My face heats. Do they stare at me an extra beat before turning their backs again? My father looks up from his siddur for a moment to give me a smile before looking down at the prayer book and continuing the silent meditation. I give a small wave back at Max, pointing to Mr. Eisner to indicate that I’m just making a quick candy run.