JOHN AND MIRIAM
Chapter Nine
"There's a church service in first class
this morning," John told Miriam at breakfast. "Do you want to
go?"
"Amazing. They're actually letting third
class people into first class areas," Miriam grumbled, sipping at a cup of
coffee.
John sighed. Miriam was never at her best
first thing in the morning.
After a few more sips of coffee, Miriam
nodded. "I'll go. If any of those people there know me, it'll be fun to
see the looks on their faces. Miriam Anders, daughter of a wealthy businessman,
married to steerage trash."
John ignored her comment. "I was
thinking of bringing Mary along, too. She needs to go to church sometimes, even
though she’s really too young to understand what's going on."
"It's never too early to teach children
about religion. My father taught me to be a good little Christian when I was
her age."
"You sound rather bitter."
"He just didn't want me being Jewish
like my mother. He thought that it was some big sin or something."
"If your father thought your mother was
so terrible, why did he marry her?"
"It was an arranged marriage. Besides,
she had money."
John nodded, suddenly understanding some of
Miriam's dislike of the upper classes.
"Much to his dismay, I never really
learned to tell the difference between Christians and Jews, or any other groups
for that matter. There were a few Jewish students at the boarding school I went
to, and it took me a while to figure out why some of the other girls were so
mean to them. One of them finally told me that she was Jewish."
"Did they ever bother you?"
"No. I don't look like a stereotypical
Jewish person. I have straight hair, and I didn't follow any dietary
restrictions. I ate bacon and ham along with everyone else."
"What did your mother think about
that?"
"She never said a word. Technically, she
became a Christian when she married my father, but she still won't eat pork,
and she goes to the synagogue once in a while." Miriam paused. "I
went with a few times. I soon learned that there isn't really much difference
between Judaism and Christianity."
"Do you have something against
Christianity?"
Miriam shook her head. "No. Once I was
able to learn about religion on my own, I found that there was a lot of good in
it, and that it was much like any other religion. I just don't like having
ideas forced upon me."
"Somehow I'm not surprised."
"I still can't tell different religious
or ethnic groups apart, though, unless they have some really distinguishing
feature, like a different language or skin color, or a different way of
dressing. Even then, half the time I don't notice." She smiled.
"Remember when I first met Mary and her grandmother, and I thought they
were Russian? I thought her grandmother was going to have a fit. I had no idea
what she was so upset about until you explained to me that they were Slavic,
not Russian. I still can't tell the difference, though. People look like people
to me."
John laughed, remembering the incident.
"She was rather proud of her heritage. Her husband brought her to Britain
looking for work, and she never quite accepted it. She liked it even less when
she named her daughter Jana, and Jana insisted upon being called Jane."
"Did people bother them because they
were foreigners?"
"Some did. I think that's why Jana
wanted to be called Jane. I called her Jana just once, and she got so mad...I
thought she was going to walk out that door and go back to her mother."
"Is that why Mary's grandmother didn't
want to come with us when we left England?"
"That's part of it. As long as she is in
England, she has hopes of going home. Also, she wants to stay near the graves
of her husband and daughter."
John fell silent, remembering Jana, his first
wife. Their marriage had not been an easy one, but he had loved her just the
same.
Miriam's voice brought him out of his
reverie. She was wiping syrup and grease off Mary's hands as she spoke to him.
"Come on, let's go get dressed. We must
make a good impression on the upper crust," she said, imitating the snooty
way in which some of the upper class ladies spoke. Picking up Mary, she started
back to their room.
John followed her, barely suppressing a laugh
at Miriam's tone of voice.