“The Jewish face I love is telling me about amazing things that she is findi

ng on the internet. The owner of the face is excited to go home to see her grandparents later this month. She is bubbling about her classes today, what she wants for dinner and how she’d like to know if she can practice driving if she can use the car. The Jewish face spoke the words she wroe at her Bat Mitzvah ceremony almost three years ago – words about maintaining the synagogue – her haftarah, her

dream. This Jewish face of my daughter is now singing, talking and smiling. She hasn’t stopped talking since she started when she was a tiny Jewish face.

When I look at the many little faces in the classes at the Jewish Preschool where I work, I sometimes imagine what they’ll be like when they are older faces. They are light, they are dark, they are sweet and they are sassy. They are Jewish and they are ‘Not’ and not one of them cares for Pharoah. I love Jewish faces!”

Winner #2: Ruby:

The Jewish face I love is my daughter, Dvorah Carmen.

Her eyes are a window to her emotions and soul. When she’s happy, they are the brightest blue, like two sapphires glittering mischievously from behind her hair. When she’s angry, they become a dark grey, like the Caribbean that encircles the islands of o

ur ancestors in a thunderstorm. I look into her eyes and can see choppy, stormy waves rolling in behind.

I love her eyes because they are uniquely hers, not resembling my brown, or her daddy’s skylit blue. Her eyes tell the story of my family, people who came in all colors of the earth, a blend of European, Native, and African. They tell of her father’s family, of a child whose eyes rebel against the stereotype of his Eastern European roots, and resemble the Germany of his great grandparents.

Her eyes are her own, saying “I am who I am, my eyes do not fit the stereotype of the brown eyed Ashkenazi, or the brown of olive skinned Carribean peopl

es. My eyes are mine, and will tell its own stories.

I look at her eyes, and see the future of the Jewish people, radiant and diverse, glowing.

I love Jewish faces.”

“The Jewish faces I love are so similar to each other that babysitters in the park call them “the clones” though they’re almost four years apart. They have brown eyes that are shaped like mine, though the color matches their father’s eyes (mine are green). Those eyes light up when I walk in the door, warming my heart every time.

Though I was not born Jewish, they have no doubt that they were, and the Jewish faces I love are proud to sing Hebrew songs and blessings, and they know at this time of year which holiday is theirs and which is not, and they’re fine with it. One of my little Jewish faces said a couple of weeks ago, “Mommy, what holidays do Christians have? Because it seems like we have more. You have to tell me, because I was born Jewish, so *I* don’t know.” I thought that was great.

The Jewish faces I love started out so tiny, and now they’re getting big very fast. Their skin is a little olive, their cheeks are so smooth, their hair is soft — dark brown for the older one (who also
shows signs of developing a unibrow), light brown for the youn

ger. Their faces show every emotion, often changing dramatically from moment to moment.

I love Jewish faces.”

Don’t you love these Jewish faces? I know I do!