Every year, we read the Torah portion Miketz during the week of Chanukah. It’s the story of Joseph, languishing in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. But there’s a part of the Joseph story that we never talk about – a part that changed the life of one of my students.

I had a 12-year old student whose father was Jewish, and her mother wasn’t. Her father was looking forward to her Bat Mitzvah, and her mother – a wise and gracious woman – was thrilled to see them so happy.

But suddenly, everything changed. Her father was dying of cancer.

We did everything we could to help the family. And we moved the Bat Mitzvah date up sixth months, hoping that the father would live. Her new date was Shabbat Chanukah, and her Torah portion was Miketz.

She was a bright, determined girl. And she learned her Torah portion in no time. But it wasn’t enough. Her father died three weeks before her Bat Mitzvah.

I remember standing there in the ICU as her father passed. And I remember comforting the daughter and the widow, and the daughter insisting that they go ahead with her Bat Mitzvah. “Dad would have wanted it,” she said. And if course, the mother agreed,

The three weeks went by, and the day of the Bat Mitzvah arrived. I remember seeing them as they walked into the synagogue, the girl with a smile a mile wide, and the mother looking terrified. In an hour, she knew, she would be the only non-Jew, plunged into a sea of people who knew more about Judaism than she did.

So I handed her the study sheet that I was about to use for Torah study. “This is about you,” I told her. And on it was a long-forgotten part of the Joseph story – a part I learned about it because a friend of mine, Arlene Sarah Chernow:

Remember Me

You remember my husband.
You tell his story.
He saved his family from famine.
They became the Jewish people.
He became a trusted advisor of pharaoh
He made his brothers jealous
They sold him into slavery
but he forgave them because he wanted to
see his father one more time.

His name was Joseph.

You remember my sons Ephraim and Manasseh.
Every Shabbat you bless your sons
Asking God to make them like my sons.
You remember my father-in-law, Jacob.
He became Israel.

I was the daughter of a priest.
I was given to Joseph as his wife by Pharaoh.
My father was a priest of On, an Egyptian city.
Joseph told me stories about the Hebrew people.

For many years Joseph did not know if he would
Ever see his people again.
He wanted his sons to know about his people,
He wanted his sons to be a part of his people.
Joseph loved his family and their traditions
It was up to me

I loved Joseph
His children were the greatest gift that I could give to his people.
All I ask is,
When you tell these stories,
Please remember my name.

My name is Aseneth.

The mother continued to guide her daughter in Jewish tradition, all the way to adulthood. And it was the most joyous Bat Mitzvah you ever saw.

This week, as you read the story of Joseph, remember Aseneth. And if you have loved ones who are not officially Jewish, remember that they, too, are part of the story of the Jewish people.

Shabbat Shalom,
Art