A Jewish Girl’s Christmas in “Kankakee by the Sea”

I often write to you, dear readers, that every occurrence we experience during our lives becomes a story. The story can last but a few minutes or continue for a few weeks. Some are over the top fantastic, some are hopeful, some boring, some painful but never-the-less, when lumped together, they become a novel of our memories… the story of our personal lives. As we review our lives’ chapters, our memories, we often return to the most defining ones, those that played important roles in shaping our lives. I mention Kankakee by the Sea often in my musings, because the town and its citizens were very important in molding my character. When I left, at age eighteen, for college and sorority life, I left behind the physical community of Kankakee by the Sea but carried with me a certain innocence of small town living and layers of special and heartbreaking emotional experiences. The heartbreaking experiences came because I was set apart, unable to blend because of my circumstances. My musings today, with the holidays around the corner, take me back to Kankakee by the Sea and Christmas. My girlfriends were Christian. I am a Jew. THE STORY The holiday season, Christmas, in Kankakee by the Sea brought out a longing in me for inclusion. Try growing up a little Jewish girl in an all Christian town. I was not envious; I was wistful. I wanted to decorate a Christmas tree, have the most beautiful wreath on our front door and get and give lots of presents. I wanted to run down the stairs Christmas morning and see what Santa left me and share the information with my Christian friends. I wanted to have my mom make a turkey and invite our family over for Christmas dinner. Why shouldn’t I? After all, Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year and I wanted to revel in it. That was not to be my story. Looking back on my memories — and because I walk on the sunny side of the street — I can now see those holiday years as a positive. I learned about Christianity. I could sing every word of every Christmas Carol; I helped my friends decorate their trees, ate ham for dinner at their homes and, as I grew older in Kankakee by the Sea, went to midnight mass with my friends at Saint Patrick’s church. I recall when they knelt; I sat in my seat as a good little Jewish girl. All-in-all, I learned the importance of respecting their faith, developed my strong character in staying true to my beliefs and honed my ability to feel compassion for others because I knew how it felt to be left out. To the credit of my parents and my grandfather, I was taught to honor my identity. I did not grow up with a Christmas tree with twinkling lights and divinely wrapped presents with beautiful bows under the tree or stockings hung on the fireplace ledge. I […]

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