Tonight begins the New Year for Jewish people everywhere. Because I had a Jewish mother, I can claim my Jewishness if I want to. I never found it that easy. 

The most Jewish part of our home was the food.  The first time I set foot in a synagogue was at thirteen for a classmate's Bar Mitzvah. Maybe it was because I was born so much later. Thirteen years after my brothers. After all those years and a surprise pregnancy, I don't think my mother had any strength left for the High Holidays. 

I knew she didn't believe in a God. But she worried what the other Jews thought. She turned the lamb chops over in the shopping cart in case someone she knew saw her buying non-Kosher meat. On Yom Kippur, she would say, Just fast until noon. The Jewish mother in her didn't want her child starving for something even she didn't care much about.

In college, she bought me an unusual present. A Star of David. I never wore it, but  kept it next to the Saint Michael necklace in my jewelry box. I never understood that gift, as it was given without any explanation. Perhaps she secretly hoped I'd find my Jewish roots one day. I don't know. She took it back and gave it to someone else.

I was an equal opportunity spiritual seeker. I went to Catholic services with a friend in college. I fasted at Ramadan one summer with another.

And at Rosh Hashanah, I ate apples dipped in honey and wished my Jewish friends L' Shana Tova.

I accepted it all. There was no choosing just one way. I had reverence for the Old Testament, the New Testament, the Koran and the teachings of Buddha. I realized I would never be able to follow just one religion.

I raised my daughter with a belief in God. I also raised her with the knowledge of Christian traditions as well as Jewish. She had books on Islam and Hinduism and anything else I could open her world to. Mainly I raised her to be kind and compassionate to her fellow human beings.

Today, I have made peace with feeling that I am a part of everything but claim nothing as my own. Spirituality is the most meaningful when I'm in Nature. I know that I am a part of it all. I know that all religions are the same, just packaged differently.

My daughter identifies herself as Jewish.  I take great pride and satisfaction in that, although I would feel the same no matter what path she chose. There is something wonderful about her choosing (without any push from her parents) the path that is most meaningful to her.

No matter that I don't identify myself with any religion, I am Jewish at least by birth. So the Holidays come, and I make my matzoh ball soup and put out a plate of apples and honey for my non-Jewish husband to ensure he has a sweet year too. These are the traditions I have taken and made my own.

I take what I need from the other religions too.  A friend calls me a Pagan. Maybe. I'm not sure.

What I am sure of is that I am part of the whole.