The Truth About My Bat Mitzvah by Nora Raleigh Baskin

like them. I had never played with dolls very much, even when I was little. But when I had, I liked tiny dolls, miniature things. Little people and animals you could move around with your hands, hide in your pocket, stick in the soap dish in the bathtub, bury in the dirt in the backyard after a good rain.
    Madame Alexander dolls were about three feet tall and they were dressed in elaborate costumes from all over the world. And they were really expensive.
    â€œHow about the Argentina girl?” my grandmother asked me.
    I shrugged. She was pretty, with her red shirt and vest, her black hair. The girl from India was beautiful too; her dress looked sheer and silky wrapped around her body from her feet to her head.
    â€œLook at the girl from Turkey. Oh, look at those little sandals.”
    I shrugged again. “You don’t have to get me a present, Nana,” I said.
    â€œOf course I do,” she said. She was trying to get closer to the shelves behind the counter. Then she stopped. She put her purse down on the glass and turned to me.
    â€œYou don’t like these dolls, do you?” she asked me.
    I looked down at the ground, at the gray carpet, at a little round stain. When I touched it with my shoe, it was sticky.
    â€œCaroline. Look at me.”
    I did. She was smiling. “You never liked these dolls, did you?”
    I shook my head.
    â€œBut you let me buy them for you.”
    I nodded.
    â€œBecause you knew I wanted them, didn’t you?”
    I nodded again.
    My grandmother took me into her arms and drew me toward her. I could smell her sweet perfume right though her clothes. It would settle in my hair and on my sweater, and when I went to bed that night I would smell it on me.
    â€œI wish I could buy one for you, Nana. For a Christmas present.”
    â€œI don’t need a doll,” she said. “I’ve got everything I could ever want, right here with me. Right now.”
    I was so relieved.
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    We made our way back to the apartment the exact way we had come. I was hoping Poppy had already ordered the Chinese food. He knew just what to get. We got the same thing every time. There were still tons of people in the streets, still a line waiting to see the window displays. I could see the red fabric and white fur trim of a mechanical Santa Claus throwing his head back as he listened to the mechanical little boy on hislap. I could hear the Christmas music piped out through speakers to the whole world. You could still hear it two blocks away.
    â€œOh no, Nana,” I said suddenly.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    â€œI meant Hanukkah . I meant the doll could be for your Hanukkah present, right?”
    It was getting dark already. We walked close together and as quickly as we could. My nana squeezed my hand tightly. “Yes, my shayna maideleh . For Hanukkah.”

17
    Plenty to Worry About
    I decided to try on my Jewish star necklace again. And this time, I would wear it to school and see how it fit me.
    So to speak.
    Nobody would even have to see it. Not yet.
    I wore it under an old long-sleeved shirt I had, one with a high collar. I thought maybe I would bring up the subject of a bat mitzvah this afternoon. Then, when I was ready, I could pull down my collar and show my mother I had been wearing my necklace, that I was sincere.
    â€œCaroline, are you going to wear that to school?” my mother was asking me. Thursday was her day off. She was in her bathrobe. Her hair was tumbled all around her head. She had a cup of coffee in her hand.
    Sammy had taken his breakfast into the den to watch ESPN and my dad had wandered by and gotten stuck there watching highlights of a baseball game I knew for certain they had watched just last night.
    My mother and I were alone in the kitchen. Had she seen my necklace with her X-ray vision? Did she know?
    I looked down at myself as best I could. “Wear what?”
    â€œThat shirt,” she said.
    I was so relieved, I got confused.