A Jew, a Catholic, a Christian, and an agnostic walk into a coffee shop…

It’s actually not the start of a joke. It’s what happens roughly once or twice a month here on base. Navy spouses get together for coffee and chatting. Some come by themselves, others come toting their little ones too young for school. The little ones are immediately snatched up, cuddled, and fussed over by other spouses, giving the moms a small break.

Despite all the sour we have experienced here, there has always been sweetness. I hold this sweetness close, to carry myself through the rough times. While the larger environment is not conducive to diversity, while so many act in ignorance, there are people who, on an individual level, provide a sense of community and so much love it has, at times, been overwhelming.

The Navy spouses are not the only ones who provide the sweetness, but they are a primary source of it when we’re quite outnumbered on an Air Force base. Whenever we have had a holiday on the radar, fellow Navy spouses have jumped in to help. It didn’t matter if the task seemed monumental, like finding Hanukkah candles or kosher for Passover items. They stepped up and stepped in, and then participated and were open to learning.

We have made a point of opening our home for holidays. The goal is not to proselytize – Gd forbid we should ever participate in that. Rather, it has always been to educate. To share our culture. To bring in friends and neighbors to celebrate with us. Being “the only” on base is lonely, but military families are exceptionally skilled at creating a community where there previously was none.

It hasn’t been restricted to the adult side of the house, either. When my oldest daughter made bat mitzvah, we put together a celebration for her. We created a small service, had points at which we would deliver the blessings and make small speeches. And then she invited her friends.

To be honest, I was nervous. I didn’t know what the response would be. I didn’t know if anyone would really understand the significance, and I fretted over whether I should simply say it was a birthday party just to avoid confusion. Except teens showing up for a birthday party and getting a religious service instead may have been worse.

My worried proved to be unfounded. Anat carefully explained to her friends the meaning of the bat mitzvah. How she was foregoing a birthday party because of the importance of the bat mitzvah. And she distributed invitations.

And I had more than a dozen teenagers crowd into my house to celebrate with us. At least ten or so then spent the night. It wasn’t a “typical” bat mitzvah like you would see in a Jewish community today. But it was full of living room dance competitions, karaoke, games, chatter, giggles, and love.

I can’t thank my daughter’s friends or their families enough for being there on such a special occasion.

Our house has been full to overflowing during Hanukkah. I will never forget our tiny townhouse crowded with 40 people thrilled to be sharing in a holiday celebration. We had story times for the little ones, one of my dearest of friends reading in the most loving and animated way.

I remember a Passover where putting ourselves out there on a local forum resulted in new friendships and meeting a Jewish woman who was visiting family, and she’s now become like a sister to me.

Sharing these moments, I am again full of gratitude for the people we have met, for those who have supported us. Who have expressed their curiosity in respectful ways, who listened to explanations and have taken away understanding and left friendship in their wake.

It is this sweetness that I am carrying into our final Passover on this duty station. I will hold out the pain I have experienced, I will call out the antisemitism I have experienced. I will not stop fighting. I will not be so easily run over or frightened away. Because I have been so blessed in the midst of the struggle.

And it all started with the Navy Spouse Coffee Chat.