Several years ago a friend shared some of his personal story: his mother, a member of a fundamentalist Christian group, took him door-to-door with her as she tried to find converts while he cringed and doors slammed, a story he managed to tell without any anger.  I tried to see the young boy in the story while listening to the relaxed, self-confident Jewish man he had become.

This past week I met his mother for the first time at the Brit Milah of his son.  A varied group of over 60 friends and family gathered in the morning, the mohel explained in detail the real significance of the circumcision ceremony and how it differed from what might be done in a hospital. He carefully reminded everyone that babies cry simply if you remove their diapers.

All went well, all of the friends and relatives joined togther in the “amens” of the brief service, and in a moment the baby was back comfortably in his mother’s arms, not crying. His name was announced and our friend and his wife spoke about who the baby was named for and invited the guests to share in the waiting breakfast…bagels, lox and rugelach, of course. I tell you all of this because this was the real thing, very warm and moving, in contrast to what people hear about only as the topic of jokes or in a comedy routine.

My friend’s mother introduced me to some relatives, pointed out an adorable grand-niece and told me how glad she was that her son finally was a father, and how happy she was that he had a son.

She spoke without a trace of discomfort, at peace with her son’s choices.