In first person… A connection to Judaism that lasted over decades

My first trip to Israel in 1969 was nothing less than life-changing. I was a 19-year-old senior at Cal State Northridge. Culturally Jewish, but not that observant or educated in Judaism.

Why Israel? I wanted to learn Hebrew so I would understand the High Holy Day prayers. Despite the recent Six-Day War and ensuing terrorism, my parents sent me on the college's first program to Israel. Eleven of us went straight from the airport to the Hebrew University in Jerusalem.

I remember the freedom I felt in a place where I was not different. Now most of my classmates were Jewish. Ironically, my two American roommates were not Jewish, and we spent a lot of time talking about why we were there.

I returned convinced that my religion was important to me. After a second trip, I married a student of religions who had chosen to become Jewish. We moved to the Bay Area, started a family and joined a synagogue. I became an active member and even an adult bat mitzvah.

My husband and I visited Israel together in 1988 and 1994, and I experienced the power of his connection to his chosen religion. I only wish he had lived long enough to witness the transmission of our faith to future grandchildren. But I know the power of the support of the Jewish community in times of sorrow as well as joy. I doubt I would have been in this place if it hadn't been for that first trip.