Hush by Judy Brown, Eishes Chayil

and have a baby when I grow up?”
    My father chuckled.
    “And will I have to make supper every single day for the rest of my life?”
    “Why are you suddenly worried about such things?” my father asked, laughing. “You still have plenty of time.…”
    “Yes, but why don’t boys have babies also? The mother could have half the babies and the father the other half. All boys do is wear a hat and have a Bar Mitzvah , and why don’t girls have Bar Mitzvah s?”
    “Whoa, whoa, what do you mean? Of course you have a Bas Mitzvah .”
    “Oh, that’s not the same!” I protested. “Boys have fancy Bar Mitzvah s in a fancy hall, with a big meal, and a lot of people and presents. Girls don’t have anything like that.”
    “Well.” My father pondered. “Well. Maybe it’s because the boys do things afterward that girls don’t, like wearing a hat, putting on tefillin every morning, and davening and learning all day.”
    I thought about that some. “Maybe,” I said.
    My father kissed me good night and left the room. I stared at the ceiling, thinking. I did want a fancy Bar Mitzvah like Yossi and Leiby had. But then again, after their Bar Mitzvahs , when Yossi and Leiby walked down the street, they had to keep their heads down. They told me that they were keeping their eyes pure and thoughts holy by not looking at women, especially shiksas—goyishe girls. Purity of mind strengthened one’s spirituality, and the only way to do so in this temptation-filled world was to keep one’s eyes clear of all evil. Yossi and Leiby also had to wear a black Chassidish coat and a hat, and although they were very proud of it, I most certainly did not want to wear a black Chassidish coat and hat every day for the rest of my life. I liked my colorful clothing. Neither did I like the idea of waking up every morning at six a.m. to go daven in shul , like Leiby did. My father would scream at him that if he didn’t wake up he would be the biggest bum in the class.
    Praying once a day in school was enough for me. Three times was exhausting. I also didn’t like the idea of having to learn and learn and learn all day long. The boys did nothing but that. Even in the summer, after Bar Mitzvah , the Chassidish boys weren’t allowed to do anything like roller-skating and sports and amusement parks. My brother told me that the only break they had in camp was swimming. Only the bums did anything else. On the other hand, the boys didn’t have to study math or science. They didn’t learn any English or get diplomas, while my sister Surela had to study all day for exams. But Yossi learned Torah from seven a.m. until six p.m., and my father once told him even that wasn’t good enough. A true Torah scholar studied at least until ten, if not midnight.
    I turned over and closed my eyes, comfortably resolved. Bar Mitzvah or not, it was much more fun to be a girl.

CHAPTER NINETEEN
2008
    My mother was furious. “Look at your skirt; it doesn’t cover your knees when you sit. How do you expect to get married?”
    I didn’t know how I expected to get married. I just would—like everyone else—wherever their skirt was. I didn’t mean not to cover my knees when I sat. It got pulled up accidentally as I was sitting down, and I hadn’t pushed it down fast enough. My mother was always upset with me these days. We just couldn’t seem to get along. My father said it was because I was turning into a woman, and it was always hard for a mother to see her daughter become a woman.
    The change in our relationship started when I was thirteen and my cousin Moishe, just Bar Mitzvah ed, ate by us on Shabbos . Moishe and his four younger siblings came with my aunt Yitty often to eat by us on Friday night, and sometimes we would talk. We liked to read mystery books together, especially the ones by Gadi Briskman. But two weeks after his Bar Mitzvah , Moishe stopped talking to me. He had taken two steps inside my room that Friday night, noticed me standing near the