Uri Full of Light

by Holly Sortland

  “Yes. But after I tell you what I need to, I don’t even know if I’d be allowed to convert.”

  “Hannah, please just tell me!” He took back her hand and held it firmly between his palms.

  She looked around the room again; the couple with the sleeping toddler was gone, along with the woman reading the magazine. Only the snoring man remained. Hannah felt wondered if God intervened by clearing the room so she could talk to Uri alone—to share with him the disgrace she'd been carrying for two years.

  Exhausted and burdened, she began to cry.

  “Uri,” she said softly through a stream of tears. “I had an abortion.”

  She removed her hand from Uri’s and placed it over her face again, trying her best to control her sobbing.

  Shocked and not sure what to say, Uri grabbed a box of tissues from a nearby table and handed it to her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

  “When did this happen?” he asked her softly.

  She sighed before answering. “A couple of years ago. Right after I started dating Will. We had only been together for a little over a month. It was horrible,” she confessed with a shaking voice.

  “He had a friend call the school pretending to be my Dad to get me excused, and we drove six hours to the clinic on the other side of the state.

  “Will waited in the waiting room. I had to go in and have it done all by myself. And then as soon as it was done, we drove the six hours back. I was miserable the next day. My parents knew something was wrong but there was no way I could tell them."

  She paused for a moment to collect herself.

  “I had to do it, Uri. If my dad would have found out, it would have killed him. It happened right around the time we were told that he would have to go on the transplant list. My parents were under so much stress.” Hannah’s entire body was shaking at this point. “I couldn’t have a baby, Uri. I just couldn’t. I am so sorry.”

  She wiped her nose and her eyes again. Uri took her hand that wasn’t holding a ball of used Kleenex and placed it back into his.

  He cringed with anger at the idea of Hannah suffering alone in a clinic, unable to tell anyone other than Will about the trauma she’d endured.

  “Hannah, you do not need to apologize to me. I am so sorry that you had to go through that by yourself.”

  “It was my fault,” Hannah responded, staring blankly ahead. “I should have been smarter about birth control. I was so naive and stupid. I killed something that was living inside me and now. . .” she said in a whisper. “I have to live with this for the rest of my life."

  Incensed at Will, Uri put his anger aside to comfort Hannah.

  "Hannah,” he said. “You were young and needed affection, and Will took advantage of that. The fact that this bothers you so much shows that you have compassion and regret. You've repented. You need to let go of the guilt, Hannah. HaShem forgives you."

  He shifted closer to her. “When a person converts to Judaism, the life that existed before does not count against them, because they were not living the true life that HaShem intended for them. It is said that when a convert emerges from the mikveh for the first time, they are not a convert, they are a Jew. They were always a Jew. After the conversion, they have finally returned home. They are finally where they belong in their Jewish soul.”

  Hannah looked at him, red-eyed. “What’s a mikveh?” she asked.

  Uri smiled. “It’s a body of water, like a pool—where a person immerses naked. It’s the final step of conversion.”

  “Naked?” Hannah repeated, suddenly finding herself laughing. The exhaustion of the last two days left her unable to control her emotions.

  Uri smiled.

  “Yes, naked. But you don’t need to worry about that right now. Hannah, whatever happened in your past is between you and HaShem. If you feel the need to ask for repentance for anything, he will grant it to you. But you do not need to apologize to me for what happened between you and Will.”

  "But I feel so much guilt for doing what I did with Will. I feel guilty because I gave an intimate part of myself to someone I didn't love. It should have been you, Uri. My first time should have been with you."

  "Hannah, if you convert and we are married, it will be your first time. It will be our first time as man and wife. And nothing can make that any less special."

  Hannah stared at him and jokingly patted his arm.

  “Are you for real?” she asked him, laughing again. “Are you really in my life? Because you seem like a wonderful dream. You’re too good to be true.”

  He looked at her blotchy face and puffy nose, desperately wanting to kiss her.

  “Psalm 36,” Hannah said out of nowhere. “Psalm 36, verse 10. I read it and it reminded me of you. It says, ‘for the source of life is within You; in your light do we see light.’ Uri, you are my light!”

  “You’ve been reading the Psalms?” Uri asked. A smile blossomed across his face.

  “Why, does that surprise you?”

  “Not at all,” he took her hand again and gently squeezed it.

  Hannah looked around the room again and saw that the woman with the magazine had returned to her seat just as Dr. Geller appeared in the doorway. She quickly let go of Uri’s hand.

  Dr. Geller noticed Hannah’s tear streaked face. “Is everything ok, my dear?”

  “Yes, Dr. Geller. I’m just worried about my dad, that’s all.”

  “I understand. Let’s get you back to his room to check up on him, shall we? Uri, your mother is waiting in the lobby.”

  Hannah rose to her feet as Uri asked the unexpected.

  “Abba, can Hannah celebrate Chanukah with us tonight?”

  Uri couldn’t tell who looked more surprised, his father or Hannah.

  Caught off guard, Dr. Geller looked at Hannah’s sad, red face and found it impossible to say no.

  “If she has permission from her mother, of course she is welcome.”

  Hannah followed Dr. Geller out of the room and looked back at Uri. He mouthed the words “I love you” to her. She smiled and followed Dr. Geller down the winding hall.

  18

  The first time Hannah Hagen experienced the light of a Jewish holiday was on the third day of Chanukah in 1996.

  Even after her exhausting confession to Uri, the day turned out well. By early afternoon, Hannah's father became more alert and his breathing less labored. He was able to speak with less effort, a positive sign that the antibiotics were doing their job.

  He told his nurses he was hungry, and by late afternoon, his large oxygen mask was replaced with his usual nostril tubes. Later, he was allowed some pudding and a 7-Up.

  As promised, Dr. Cooper arrived later in the day and was impressed by Mike's progress. He told the family that depending on the X-ray results the following morning, he may be able to be moved out of the ICU.

  After Dr. Cooper left, Hannah's father asked his wife, "Who was the man praying in my room last night?"

  Confused, Kathleen shook her head. "I don't know, Mike. We left around 9:30. Who did you see?"

  "I didn't open my eyes. But I could hear him. He spoke in a different language. But I heard him say "amen."

  "A different language? I think you might have been dreaming, honey," Kathleen said.

  "No," Mike persisted, his breathing growing a bit labored again. "It wasn't a dream. There was a man here. And he made me feel very. . .peaceful."

  Hannah immediately knew that he was speaking of Avi Geller. The thought of him returning to the hospital late that night to pray over her ailing father made the idea of converting even more appealing.

  "I believe you, Daddy," Hannah told him, kissing his hand through her mask. Then she turned to Kathleen. "Mom, there's a place I need to be tonight. . ."

  HANNAH ARRIVED AT THE Geller house after sunset. A beautiful, glowing menorah engulfed the front window.

  She knocked on the door. Like last time, Uri’s mother answered. She looked as beautiful as the last time Hannah saw her,
this time wearing a long, gray dress with a scarf tied around her waist. Her wig was smooth and flawless, and in the light, Hannah could hardly tell it wasn’t her own hair.

  “Hello, Mrs. Geller,” Hannah smiled as she greeted her.

  “Please, call me Devorah,” she insisted. “Come in, we’ve been expecting you,” she said warmly.

  Hannah entered the house and spotted Uri standing in the kitchen entryway, his hands in his front pockets as always, looking at her with pride.

  “Hannah, my dear!” Avi Geller greeted her from the kitchen. “Welcome! I am so pleased to hear that your father seems to be making a turn for the better!”

  “Yes,” replied Hannah. “Thank you for praying for him.”

  He stood somberly for a moment before flashing his good-natured smile.

  “Come in, come in! You missed the lighting of the menorah but there is still plenty of time for treats and gifts. Uri, we must get out the dreidel and show Hannah how we play.”

  Uri rolled his eyes but obeyed his father. He opened a closet to retrieve a plastic bag filled with dreidels.

  Unfamiliar, sweet smells overwhelmed Hannah as she walked into the kitchen. The counters were covered in delicacies that she had never seen before.

  “These look amazing! What are they?” she asked Devorah.

  “This is chocolate rugelach; it’s like a flakey pastry,” Devorah pointed to each treat as she described them. “And this is sufganiyot; they’re like a deep-fried jelly doughnut. They’re Uri’s favorite.”

  “That’s true,” said Uri, as he took one from the pan.

  “And these are fritters,” Devorah pointed to the last pan. “They might remind you a bit of doughnut holes.”

  “Please,” said Avi. “Help yourself!”

  As Hannah took a plate of treats, Avi explained to her that each of them had a meaning behind the story of Chanukah.

  “The sufganiyot that Uri likes so much symbolizes the miracle of the oil in the ancient temple. Although there was only enough oil for one day, it lasted for eight. This miracle of lasting light is what we celebrate each Chanukah,” Avi said. He continued speaking, but Hannah’s attention remained on Uri, who exuded elation with the presence of Hannah in his home. Smiling throughout the night, he taught her the rules of playing dreidel and pretended to be overly upset when she won the pot twice.

  The family sang songs in Yiddish, with Hannah clapping along even though she couldn't understand the words.

  When the time came to exchange presents, Hannah admittedly felt awkward.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t bring anything to exchange.”

  “Do not worry, my dear!” Avi said. “You’ve had enough on your plate these last couple of days.”

  Hannah watched as Avi opened a box containing a new tie from his wife, and a pen from Uri.

  Devorah received a small, beautiful pendant from Avi, and a bracelet from Uri.

  Uri opened a small box that contained a watch from his parents. “Really?” said Uri as he removed it from the package. He said something in Hebrew and kissed his parents on their cheeks.

  “Wait, there is one more gift here for Hannah,” announced Devorah.

  “Really? This wasn’t necessary,” Hannah replied as she accepted her gift. Her fingers opened it carefully. Inside was a beautiful silver barrette.

  “I love it!” Hannah exclaimed. “Thank you so much!

  “It’s from Israel,” Devorah said. “I buy many of them while I am there. Uri said you like barrettes. I thought this would fit you nicely.”

  “It’s perfect,” said Hannah, smiling at Uri.

  She looked around the kitchen. The menorah lights were faded, almost to the point of burning out. The kitchen still smelled of baked treats; the table littered with dreidels and gift wrapping. As she looked at Uri, she felt a sense of hope and comfort that she never experienced before. She felt secure. She felt like she was home.

  When it came time to leave, she thanked the Geller family, wearing the new barrette in her hair. Uri had brought her coat, which he had hung in the hall closet earlier. Needing to tell Hannah something, he created a distraction.

  “Imma and Abba, Hannah can’t find her keys. Are they in the kitchen?”

  The distraction worked well as his parents scuttled around the kitchen, checking under scraps of wrapping paper and other items.

  Uri quickly whispered to Hannah. “Check your coat pocket when you get home. But only when you get home.”

  He spoke loudly to his parents. “Never mind, they were in the bottom of her bag.”

  “That happens to me all the time,” Devorah smiled as she walked back into the living room.

  Hannah wished the family good night and Happy Chanukah.

  “Be careful on the ice!” warned Avi.

  As Hannah got into her car, she felt a bulge in the left pocket of her coat. Tempted to take it out and open it, she honored Uri’s request and waited until she arrived home.

  She walked into her house, greeted by Tully as usual. Leah was in the living room watching TV. Her mom was still at the hospital, but would be home soon, Leah told her.

  Hannah walked down to her room with Tully following close behind. Even though she shared the basement with no one, she closed her bedroom door and locked it.

  She took off her coat, and slowly took out the object in the left pocket. It was a small, worn, leather box with a note wrapped around it.

  “Read this first,” the note said.

  Hannah carefully opened the letter.

  HANNAH,

  This belonged to my great aunt, who survived the camps at Bergen-Belsen. My mother gave it to me at my bar mitzvah to hold onto until I find the woman I am meant to marry.

  This is your ring, Hannah. I will never stop loving you. Keep praying to HaShem. One day, when the time is right, I will place this on your finger. I promise.

  I know it was G-d’s will that brought us together.

  I love you.

  Yours Forever,

  Uri Full of Light

  Shaking, Hannah opened the box. Inside was a beautiful, vintage silver ring with small, ornate twigs and leaves engraved throughout it. In the middle was a tiny diamond.

  She placed it on her finger; it fit perfectly. What Uri wanted seemed impossible, but when she thought about trusting in HaShem, she felt that if Uri were by her side, they could make things work.

  Hannah thought about all that she had learned about Judaism; the beauty of the rituals, the power of performing kind acts, the promise of prayer, and the structure it offered. She thought of the hope Uri brought into her life. She thought about what it might feel like to emerge from the water of a mikveh, her ugly mistakes no longer held against her. She thought about the warmth and joy she felt in the Geller’s home.

  Her mind returned to the image she saw of Devorah Geller months earlier, sitting at the kitchen table during Shabbat, under two large beautiful candles. Suddenly the image of Devorah morphed into Hannah.

  And for the first time since that gray October day with Will in the clinic when she was 16 years-old, Hannah felt redemption. She felt atonement.

  At that moment, Hannah knew. All the doubt was gone.

  She was a Jew.

  Part II

  Israel, the Second Intifada: 2000-2001

  “

  Behold, this day your eyes have seen how the Lord delivered you today into my hand in the cave, and one said to kill you, but my soul had pity on you, and I said “I shall not stretch for hand against my lord, for he is the Lord’s anointed.”

  - 1 Samuel (Shmuel 1) 24:11

  19

  Twenty-one-year-old Hannah boarded a flight to Ben Gurion International Airport in Tel-Aviv on a Tuesday morning in early August of 2000.

  She had completed her second year at Bryn Mar College, a short 10-minute commute to the Geller's neighborhood in Bala Cynwyd. Strong recommendations from her debate coach and the Dean of Students won Hannah a healthy financial package to att
end the private school. Now, she was on her way to Israel to finish her education in social work.

  When the plane was fully boarded and the flight attendants made all safety announcements, Hannah put her headphones on and closed her eyes. An anxious flyer, she was relieved to have the transatlantic flight behind her, and she looked forward to landing in Tel Aviv. The four-hour flight was short compared to the eight hours of airtime from Philly to London.

  After a bumpy and a slow climb to cruising altitude, the plane shook with turbulence. To ease her anxiety, Hannah turned up her music and thought about how much her life changed in two years. Apprehensive about the future, she took comfort in reminiscing on the past. Her mind traveled back to a time that seemed very distant; the years since she left South Dakota felt like mountains she climbed; there were days in Bala Cynwyd when she felt stuck, tired, confused, and lost. She was on unfamiliar turf, but with the help of HaShem and loving neighbors, she had found her path. Now, as she embarked on another adventure, she thought back to simpler times—days when she was shielded by her ignorance.

  THE MORNING AFTER HANNAH received the ring from Uri in 1996, she placed it on a solid gold chain, carefully latched it, and tucked it beneath her shirt.

  She arrived early at school the next day, eager to meet Uri at his locker. He stood tall and walked with confidence as he approached her. She noticed he wore the same long-sleeved brown shirt that he wore the first time they kissed.

  He smiled timidly, unsure of how she would react to the ring and the note.

  To his disappointment, she seemed unaffected, and happily shared that her dad was being discharged from the ICU. She made no mention of the ring or the note.

  "That's great news!" he replied to her.

  She grinned and asked him if he was ready for their chemistry test.

  Confused and unsure of himself, he cleared his throat and wondered if he should broach the subject of his gift. Was he too forward? Had he moved too fast with his talk about marriage? In no mood for suspense, he swallowed his pride. “Did you open the gift I gave you last night?" he asked.