The Mitzvah and the Mania

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Hence, the wheatgrass. We ordered the growing kits online and designed arrangements with little picket fences, flowers and tiny wooden birdhouses that we painted and used to indicate table numbers.

Mothers -- do not try this at home! It is not good for your stress level to have centerpieces that depend on germinating seed and getting it to grow to the proper height by a certain day. You will find yourself up late the night before the event snipping off the tops of the grass to even it out.

The bat mitzvah was Saturday. Emma chanted beautifully, from a portion that the ancient rabbis said contains the essence of the Torah: Love your neighbor as yourself. My mother made the tallit, or prayer shawl, that Emma's father and I wrapped around her shoulders. One of her closest friends read from the Torah. I did, too, for the first time; this was off-limits to girls in my day. We were surrounded by our family and lifelong friends, some of whom had been at my own bat mitzvah. All four of her grandparents were there -- a "full house," the rabbi called it.

As it turned out, the wheatgrass grew beautifully. At the party that night, the centerpieces looked lovely. So did my daughter. And just as mothers instantly forget the pain of childbirth, I'm ready to do it all over again for my younger one, March 6, 2010. D.J. Doug is already booked.

marcusr@washpost.com