The “Reluctant President” Comes Full

Circle in The Hands of Her “Sisters”

by Ellice Toscano

Born to an Orthodox mother and Reform father, I received mixed religious messages. We lived within walking distance to shul (The Suburban Temple) because as my mother said, “No self respecting observant Jew drives on Shabbos. But my father enjoyed an occasional pork chop.

Every Friday night was services and I behaved accordingly, this included covering your head while lighting the candles, no crossing of your legs, always wearing a skirt, hands on your lap and absolutely no conversation allowed.

The Orthodox way was the only way on Shabbos. Years go by….and as it happens to some, you drift away from your religious roots. Life changes. With that change came my family.As my oldest son approached “that age”, we needed to enroll him in Hebrew school. I could feel the earth shake under my feet from my mother watching from above! So we went to where I once felt like home, The Suburban Temple. I went to my first Friday night service feeling a bit detached, missing the warm familiar faces and the experiences long gone. At the end of services, an announcement was made about “an oneg provided by Sisterhood”. Venturing into the social hall I witnessed a banquet table filled with cakes, brownies, and sweets galore. While impressed by this lavish display, what struck me more was the dedication of the Sisterhood ladies. Thinking as an outsider would, “they must be big-shots in the temple”. I laugh even now at how naïvely ridiculous a thought that was.

One very fateful day I received a call (actually THE CALL) asking if I would join the Sisterhood Board. My

first response was, “how did you get my name and how many meetings are there?” Feeling embarrassed to decline, I took the bait and became a Sisterhood Board member. Starting out with the Bar/ Bat Mitzvah Uniongram job (how ironic an ending), over the next five years I made more and more friends.Walking into the Temple no longer left me feeling as an outsider. The synagogue once again felt like my second home, not just a building to worship in. Sometimes, life throws you a curve. One day, I received mine. I was asked to become Sisterhood president. Are you kidding me…..That’s only for women with a long list

a Sisterhood committees and experiences. The answer was needed soon, so, that night I tossed and turned, sweating the night away. Images of speeches from the bema and conducting meetings with no one listening filled my every thought. Once again, too embarrassed to decline, I agreed. 

While the next two years now feel like a blur, what I will never forget is how proud it felt to represent these exceptional hard working women. What I also gained was the appreciation of all the presidents before me who brought our cherished Sisterhood to this point and time. Sometimes the past is kept in the past and not honored as it deserves to be.

As more years pass since that fateful call, I think back to those Shabbos evenings walking to shul. Was becoming Sisterhood president a sacrifice? That couldn’t be farther from the truth. It was a blessing, a spiritual journey. My “sisters”, without knowing, gave me a gift and made me a better person. My love to them.