© 1996 by Michael Chaskes
BLACK.
We hear a girl begin to chant the blessing before the reading of the Torah. She is twelve-and-a-half.
Barchu et adonai hamvorach...
Baruch adonai hamvorach, l'olam vaed...
Barchu adonai hamvorach, l'olam vaed. Baruch atah adonai elohainu melech ha'olam...
Audible under her CHANTING is the SOUND of a VIDEOGAME.
Both sounds continue as we
FADE IN:
INT. BETH'S BEDROOM - LATE AFTERNOON (MONDAY)
CLOSE-UP of a siddur, or Sabbath prayerbook, being held in a girl's hands. Her fingernails, visible in frame, are painted a bright pink.
We PULL BACK to reveal BETH FINE sprawled stomach-down on her canopy bed, chanting in Hebrew from the siddur. Both her speed and accuracy are diminishing as she continues. Beth is a thoroughly typical-looking, attractive, and rather strong-willed seventh-grader.
Her room is also that of a typical adolesecent girl. Light purple wallpaper barely shows between the many posters of musical artists which are plastered on the walls. An array of "Seventeen" magazines are visible on the bookshelf, along with young adult novels and romances.
On the floor across the room from Beth sits LORI CANTER, Beth's best friend, also twelvish. Lori is facing away from Beth, playing Nintendo on a small color TV set. Lori's school backpack sits next to her.
Beth finishes chanting the blessing.
The blessing after the Torah reading is harder.
Oh, really. Do you know it yet?
No. But we still have three months.
Your bat mitzvah's in three months. Mine's in six. So how come you're the one playing Nintendo, and I'm the one studying?
Lori finishes her game and turns to face Beth.
'Cause my parents don't make me study for half an hour a day before I'm allowed to play Nintendo.
You're so lucky.
Beth puts the siddur down with a sigh, and Lori starts perusing Beth's bookshelf during the following dialogue.
Lori is mostly looking at the magazines, but as she does so, we catch sight of another item on the shelf: a framed family photo-portrait of Beth with her parents, MR. and MRS. FINE, and her ZAYDE (grandfather). Beth's parents are middle-aged and pleasant-looking. Zayde, a somewhat frail-looking man of around 70, wears a kipah (prayer cap; plural is kipot).
I mean, why half an hour? What's wrong with fifteen minutes? Even if I don't do like the world's best job, it's not like everyone's going to return the presents and rip up the checks.
Good point. People only take back their presents when the food is really bad. And mine is going to be good. We're going to have stuffed grape leaves and pigs-in-a-blanket and those little kosher eggrolls.
Beth makes a "yummy noise."
I wanted those little bagels with the cream cheese and lox but my parents said they're too expensive.
Too bad. Do you know what they're going to get you?
Lori turns to face Beth.
They won't tell me. I've been hinting, though.
For the Nintendo?
Yeah. You know, "Oh, hi, Lori, what did you do this afternoon?" "I was at Beth's, playing with her Nintendo. Gee, wish I had one of those."
Do they get it?
I don't think they're going to get me a CD player. They think my cassette player is just fine.
A KNOCK at the door, and before Beth can so much as say "Come in," the door opens to reveal MRS. FINE. She has recently arrived home from work as a high-school teacher, and looks smart and professional. She is in her mid-40s.
Oh, hi, Lori. Beth, dinner's going to be ready in a few minutes. Can you please come set the table?
Oh, sure. I'm not doing anything else right now. Just that last-minute preparation for the Big Saturday six months from now.
Beth picks the siddur up again and waves it at Mrs. Fine.
Mrs. Fine gives Beth an odd, unreadable look for a few moments.
Okay, then. Lori, honey, your mom's probably making dinner now too. Beth'll see you tomorrow, okay?
Mrs. Fine turns and walks out the room, leaving Beth's door open.
What, no dinner invite tonight?
Yeah, well, we can't feed you for free all the time, you know. No, seriously, maybe Dad didn't buy enough chicken tonight or something. I guess I'll see you tomorrow at the bus stop.
Okay, see you later.
Lori picks up her backpack and leaves the room. Beth sighs, and a moment later follows her out, leaving the siddur on her bed.
CUT TO:
INT. KITCHEN - DAY (LATE AFTERNOON)
The brightly-lit, pleasantly decorated kitchen is representative of the Fines' middle-class suburban home. MR. FINE, a good-natured man also in his mid-40s, is at the stovetop putting food into serving bowls. He is wearing a humorously-sloganed apron over an Oxford and slacks.
Mrs. Fine and Beth are setting the dinner table.
From a radio placed on a windowsill or free countertop, we hear the top of the hour on National Public Radio's ALL THINGS CONSIDERED program.
How was school today, munchkin?
Fine.
How did you do on your science test?
I just took the test today, Dad. I probably won't get it back until Wednesday at least.
Well, how do you think you did?
Okay, I guess. I answered all the questions, and I talked to Lori about it, and we put down mostly the same stuff.
Well, that sounds good.
Mr. Fine brings the serving bowls to the table and turns off the radio, and the family sits down to eat.
During the following dialogue, we mostly hold on Beth as she serves herself and begins to eat, all the while looking exquisitely bored with her parents' conversation.
How was school for you, sweetie?
You ask me this on faculty meeting day?
Oops. What brilliant new innovations did your fearless leader reveal to everyone today?
Would you believe... tailored clothing?
What, for school uniforms?
Not for the kids, for us. Off the rack isn't good enough for him. We need to look like fashion plates.
Well, I guess you should just be glad he's not wasting everyone's time trying to do something like improve curriculum or resources.
That's just what we thought.
A short pause, then Mr. and Mrs. Fine seem to pass a hidden signal. Their attention turns toward Beth. After a few moments, Beth realizes she's in the spotlight.
What?
Um, we sort of have a favor to ask you, honey.
Beth's patented "long-suffering" expression, which we have spotted a few times already, is now deployed in full force.
And what might that be?
Honey, you know that Zayde's not... (considers her phrasing)... in the best of health, right?
Well, yeah. Otherwise he'd still be living on Sixth Street and not in the nursing home.
Did it ever occur to you that he might not be physically able to come to your Bat Mitzvah?
It has not occurred to Beth. She stops eating to think about it and quickly chokes up.
No. That would be really awful, if he couldn't come.
Well, sweetie, I hate to say it, but it looks like he probably won't be well enough to make it out here from the home.
Mrs. Fine pauses for a few moments while Beth looks down at her plate, halfway to tears.
So there's something we want to ask you to do. (pause) We'd like you to get yourself ready a little early. They have a little sanctuary at the home, and we'd like you to go there and do your service for Zayde on a Saturday before your actual Bat Mitzvah.
How much before?
Well, we needed to find a time that would work for the rabbi, and for us to take you over there, and, um, not waiting for Zayde to get any sicker.
You mean you already talked to the rabbi? And you already picked a date? So it's all set and I have to do this whether I want to or not.
Um, we did talk to the rabbi already, and to the home. We wanted to sort of have everything organized before we asked you about it, so that we could tell you exactly what would be involved. We haven't said anything to Zayde yet. You don't have to do it. We would just like for you to do it.
Okay, so when is this Saturday?
It's the fifth.
Of next month?
It's the best time, sweetie.
Not for me, it's not! That's less than a month away! I haven't even started learning my Torah portion yet!
You'd better change your tone of voice very quickly.
Beth seethes for a moment, then speaks more softly but with great deliberateness and indignation.
I haven't started learning my Torah portion yet. I haven't started learning my Haftorah portion yet. I don't even know all the Saturday morning prayers yet. If I have to learn all that in a month, I'm going to have no life at all! (an idea; more sweetly) Do you think maybe I could do an, um, abridged version?
Despite the solemnity of the discussion, Mr. and Mrs. Fine cannot resist sharing a grin at their daughter's precocious choice of words. Beth notices.
Will you stop laughing at me? This is not funny!
You're right, honey, it's not. Just your choice of words... was sort of funny.
No, it wasn't. But what about it? Do I have to do the whole thing for Zayde? ItÕs like a two-and-a-half hour service.
I know, sweetie. I guess you don't have to do the whole thing... but you know what? In the village where he grew up, your Zayde and the other men went to shul three times a day, they wore kipot, they wore tallit. And when Zayde and other Jews left Russia and moved to Sixth Street, they did the same thing as much as they could. Zayde went to shul every day for the fifty-five years that he lived on Sixth.
Mrs. Fine pauses a moment: she has choked up too.
Do you know how proud he'd be to hear his granddaughter do that service, with the Torah and the Haftorah? You couldn't do a nicer thing for Zayde.
Beth now begins to cry in earnest.
Oh, thanks a lot, Mom! Now I have to, whether I want to or not! Thanks for giving me a choice! Why not just put me in chains and ask me? Excuse me... I have to go call Lori and tell her I'll see her again in about a month.
Sobbing, Beth throws back her chair and leaves the room.
CUT TO:
INT. HALLWAY - EVENING
Beth stalks down the hall to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
CUT TO:
INT. BEDROOM - EVENING
Beth throws herself onto her bed, still crying. After a moment she notices that she's lying on something hard.
She stops crying and rolls over, revealing the siddur she had left on the bed. She picks it up and looks at it for a few moments... then puts it back down, gets up, and goes to look at the photo on her bookshelf.
BETH's P.O.V.: SLOW PUSH IN on the image of Zayde. HOLD, then
CUT TO:
A few minutes later. Beth is sitting on her bed, frowning. She is holding the closed siddur and still looking at Zayde in the photo. Finally, she opens the siddur and begins to slowly and haltingly practice the blessing after the Torah reading. SOUND CONTINUES as we
DISSOLVE TO:
Same location, the following afternoon (Tuesday). Beth is just coming into her room fresh from school. She slings down her backpack, picks up the phone, and dials.
Beth has just begun to chat animatedly into the phone when Mrs. Fine opens the door and steps partway in. She speaks admonishingly to Beth and points at the siddur, resting on the nighttable next to BethÕs bed. Beth talks back heatedly, gesturing at the phone. Mrs. Fine shakes her head. Beth morosely ends the phone call and picks up the siddur. Satisfied, Mrs. Fine retreats into the hall and shuts the door, followed by Beth's glare. SOUND OF CHANTING CONTINUES ON as we
DISSOLVE TO:
CLOSE ON Beth, same location, later, practicing the same blessing (in sync with the continuous sound carried over from previous shots). However, she is now chanting faster and with more assurance. SOUND CONTINUES as we
DISSOLVE TO:
The next afternoon (Wednesday). Beth is sprawled on her bed with her siddur open but her attention fixed upon the small color TV in the corner, currently tuned into an old rerun ("Brady Bunch" if possible). Mrs. Fine opens the door, frowns, walks to the TV, turns it off, and gives Beth a few choice words. Beth whines. Mrs. Fine scolds and leaves, shutting the door behind her. Beth scowls impressively, then reluctantly turns her attention to the siddur, as the carried-over SOUND of her practicing comes to an end.
CUT TO:
EXT. SYNAGOGUE - NIGHT (THURSDAY)
An attractive but not ostentatious temple is nestled in the hills. Lights are visible through the windows, indicating activity inside.
The woefully off-key voice of AN ADOLESCENT BOY is faintly heard within, warbling a Torah portion.
CUT TO:
INT. SMALL SANCTUARY - NIGHT
In the background, we can see RABBI LEONARD and MATT PINTER standing on the bimah, the raised platform at the front of the sanctuary. The Rabbi is a tall, black-bearded, and wide-girthed man in his 60s, with an imposing demeanor and a frightening deadpan wit. He is wearing a dark suit.
Matt, nearly 13 and with an athletic build, is standing at the podium in jeans and a T-shirt, chanting his portion from a small study booklet. The Rabbi is standing almost over his shoulder, frequently correcting his pronunciation or his trop (chant). Both are wearing kipot (plural of kipah).
In the foreground, Beth and Lori are sitting in pews toward the back of the sanctuary, waiting their turns with the Rabbi and talking in low voices. Beth is distinctly bitter.
Well, one good thing I can say about Bat Mitzvah practice is that it gets me out of the house.
Why would you want to be out of the house when you could be in your living room watching "Melrose Place"?
You could be watching "Melrose Place." I'd be watching my parents turning off the TV and waving the siddur in my face, going, "You know, if you'd just take 15 minutes right now, you could learn the Aleinu."
So they're really not letting you go to the BBYO dance on Saturday night?
They're really not letting me go to the BBYO dance on Saturday night. (pause) This thing is taking over my life. Like to them, anything I want to do is totally unimportant.
Bummer.
In the background, Matt finishes his horrific Torah reading. Lori and Beth both turn toward the action as the Rabbi puts his hand on Matt's shoulder. Matt is clearly nervous.
What did I tell you last week?
You told me you'd break my leg if I didn't practice.
And did you practice?
Um... not as much as I might have.
Not as much as you might have. (beat) I'll tell you what. Today I won't break your leg. But this week... you better practice more than you practiced last week. Unless you like wearing a cast. Capische?
Grateful at being let off the hook, Matt nods and proceeds rapidly from the bimah, although not rapidly enough to evade a light swat on the back from the Rabbi.
The Rabbi looks directly at the two girls. Slowly, he points at Beth.
You next.
We follow Beth as she walks uncertainly up and on to the bimah. The Rabbi looks at her with clear sympathy.
Matt's had his portion for six months but he sounds as if he first saw it the day before yesterday. His bar mitzvah's in three weeks. He's had plenty of time and wasted it. Your parents tell me you're in a slightly different boat.
Beth remains sullenly silent.
They tell me also that you're not so happy about being in this boat.
Beth lifts her eyebrows, as if to indicate that the Rabbi has made the Understatement of the Year.
But you're doing it anyway, and that means that I donÕt have to teach you the first and most important bat mitzvah lesson.
Beth is puzzled.
When Abraham was commanded to sacrifice his Isaac, he didn't want to do it, but he was prepared to do it anyway. When Moses was commanded to lead the Children of Israel out of Egypt, Moses didn't want to do it, but he did it anyway. As Jews, we have obligations to do many things--many we'd rather not do--and yet we do them. Unhappily, sometimes, but we do them.
Don't be too impressed, Rabbi. I didn't really have a choice. My parents are making me.
They're making you? They waved a gun at you? Dragged you to shul by your toenails?
You know what I mean.
Beth, you know as well as me that no one can make you do anything you don't want to. You had a choice: to obey your parents or not to. You chose to respect their wishes. I credit you for that.
Beth thinks about this, then nods her head slightly, accepting the compliment.
Should I start with the blessing before the Haftorah?
Yes, let me hear it.
As she bends her head down toward her text to begin the blessing, the Rabbi smiles to himself.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. BETH'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (THE NEXT SATURDAY)
A CLOSE-UP of the siddur in Beth's hands. The sound of her chanting the blessing is continuous with the previous shot, but we PULL BACK to REVEAL that she is back in her bedroom, sitting on her bed, practicing on her own. The martyred expression she previously wore while studying has been replaced by one of simple concentration.
The framed picture with Zayde in it has migrated to Beth's nighttable.
CUT TO:
INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT (CONTINUOUS)
MRS. FINE sits at the empty kitchen table, talking in low tones into the telephone. MR. FINE is washing up dinner dishes at the sink, straining to listen to his wife's end of the conversation. Beth's chanting is audible from down the hall.
CUT TO:
INT. BETH'S BEDROOM - NIGHT (A FEW MINUTES LATER)
Beth is still practicing. Mrs. Fine moves into frame, unexpected by us or by Beth.
Beth, honey?
Beth looks up, startled.
I was just talking to Rabbi Leonard on the phone. He said you have a real good attitude about what's going on.
Beth shrugs, neither confirming nor denying.
Your father and I thought you deserve something for all your hard work. If you still want to go, we'd like to drive you and Lori to the BBYO dance tonight. I already called her mom.
Beth lights up.
Yeah, I'd still like to go! That would be great, Mom! Thanks.
Beth gives Mrs. Fine a hug, then, to Mrs. Fine's surprise, picks up the siddur again.
Don't you have to get ready? We need to leave in forty-five minutes.
I don't need that long to get ready.
Mrs. Fine, gratified and quite moved, smiles and leaves, closing the door behind her. Beth sits on her bed another moment and chants the first few lines of the V'ahavta. Then she breaks off abruptly, looks at the picture of Zayde for a few moments, picks up the phone next to it, and dials.
ANGLE ON Beth, holding the receiver to her ear and listening to the RING, which we hear through a PHONE FILTER (as we will Zayde). The line is answered by Zayde, who still retains a noticeable Old World accent.
Hello?
Hi... Zayde?
Beth! Is that my granddaughter? Hi, shayneh maidelah!
Hi, Zayde!
Did your mom want to talk to me?
Um... no. I did.
Oh, that's wonderful. How's school? All A's?
Mostly. I got the best report grade in my class in Social Studies.
Of course you did. You're the smartest one in the class.
Not really. But I do okay.
And how about your bat mitzvah studies?
Um, they're coming along.
I can't wait. Only six more months and I'll hear you chant from the Torah, eh?
Yeah.
I've got a Kiddush cup waiting for you, did you know that? It was my pop's, and I used it at the table each Shabbas when your mom was growing up. When you're a bat mitzvah, it'll be yours. Will that be a nice present?
Yeah, Zayde.
CUT TO:
INT. SOCIAL HALL - NIGHT
It's a typical youth group dance. Chairs that are normally in rows on the social hall floor have been stacked along the walls; above them, balloons and banners have been hung. Toward the far end of the room, a DJ's table is set up just in front of the stage, and tall speakers to either side of the table issue too-loud POP MUSIC. A few young teens are dancing awkwardly in the center of the floor; more are congregated in small groups around the sides of the room, or at the food and drink stations in the back of the room, CLOSE TO CAMERA.
Beth and Lori, in suitably trendy outfits, stand near the chips and soda talking to Matt and his friend PAUL GOLDSMITH, who are decked out in their respective ideas of "cool threads." Paul is primarily talking to Lori, and Matt (in between chips) to Beth.
Paul and me saw a great movie this afternoon, with Schwarzenegger as this guy, right? And his wife's been murdered by these drug dealers. But he was in the Special Forces and --did you see it?
No, I haven't been to the movies in a while. I've been pretty busy.
Lotta homework? You have, um, Nolan for bio, right?
No, it's not schoolwork. It's bat mitzvah prep.
Bat mitzvah prep? But you're not up for like four months, right?
More like six, actually. But I'm, sorta... it's a long story. Anyway, I'm pretty busy with that. My parents almost didn't let me come here tonight.
Man, that sucks! How come they're making you study so hard? Are they, like, slavedrivers or what?
No. (beat) It was really my decision.
Your decision? Man, if my parents said, well, Matt, either you can study for your bar mitzvah or you can go shoot some hoops, well, I don't think that would be a tough choice for me.
Doesn't seem to have been.
No way, man! Hoops.
He mimes taking a few shots.
Hey! Are you coming to my bar mitzvah?
When is it again?
The fifth.
Beth considers a moment, then smiles.
Actually, I'm going to have to miss your service. (beat) I should be able to make the reception, though.
That's cool. You'll make it for the good part anyway. It's gonna be great. For dinner we're gonna have this--
CUT TO:
INT. SOCIAL HALL - NIGHT (LATER)
Beth and Lori are standing and talking together at the side of the hall; Matt and Paul are off elsewhere. More kids are dancing now, a slow dance to a pop ballad.
--chicken thing with rice pilaf and a non-dairy chocolate mousse for dessert. He was psyched about the mousse, but worried it might "suck" because it's non-dairy. He just totally doesn't care about the service at all.
Did someone, like, make you a rabbi when I wasn't looking?
Beth flushes.
No, I mean... not like I'm some goody two-shoes. But why does it bother me? Matt's not worried about his service, you're not worried about your service. Why should I be so worried about mine? It just makes me feel...
Beth can't quite come up with the appropriate word. Lori just looks at her, clueless.
FADE OUT.
INT. SMALL SANCTUARY - MORNING (TWO WEEKS LATER)
Beth and the rabbi stand on the bimah. Matt and Lori, sitting in chairs all the way across the empty room, are chatting quietly with each other.
Beth, perched on a stepstool, is chanting her portion directly from the Torah scroll, which is open on a lectern. The rabbi stands beside her, reading over her shoulder and correcting where necessary, but mostly nodding his head and smiling. Beth is doing a good job.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. BETH'S BEDROOM - AFTERNOON (SAME DAY)
Beth is on the phone with Zayde, who we hear through a PHONE FILTER.
...and the rabbi says....
Slow down, girlchik, I can hardly keep up with you!
The rabbi says my portion's in great shape. I already memorized all the vowels and trop, so I can do it straight out of the Torah now. And I know most of the Saturday morning prayers, too. There's just a couple more I need to learn, but I think I'll be okay.
You'll be better than okay, shayneh maideleh. I'm so proud of you I can hardly stand it. Next week, when you're here to read for me, the rest of my minyan is going to come with me to hear you, and I'm gonna tell 'em all, "That's my granddaughter davening up there!"
Beth smiles broadly.
CUT TO:
INT. FINE'S FAMILY ROOM - NIGHT (SAME DAY)
Mr. and Mrs. Fine sit on the sofa, arms around each other, in a pleasant, wood-paneled family room with sofa, armchair, fireplace, and a largish TV set. They are watching an OLD MOVIE on videotape, which we can't see but can HEAR, as the TV is at reasonably high volume ("Philadelphia Story" if possible).
We can also FAINTLY hear Beth chanting the blessing after the reading of the Haftorah.
The CHANTING STOPS. We hear FOOTSTEPS.
Beth enters the room, gives her parents a mock-chiding look, lowers the volume on the TV, and exits. FOOTSTEPS, then we hear Beth resume CHANTING. Mr. and Mrs. Fine look at each other and smile.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. BETH'S BEDROOM - AFTERNOON (NEXT DAY)
Beth, on her bed, is singing the V'elohai Avotenu from the siddur. Mrs. Fine opens the door quietly and looks in. Beth doesn't notice, and continues to sing. She is at tempo and singing clearly and confidently.
After a little while, Beth stops, turns around, and startles upon seeing her mother.
Aah! You scared me.
I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't want to interrupt. Your singing sounded too nice.
Thanks.
I was thinking, it might be time to take you to get a dress to wear to Zayde's home next week.
It might take a while to find one, and I think I need the time for studying. Can't I wear something I've already got?
Is this my Beth? Would rather study than shop? What have you done with my daughter, young woman?
Mommm!
Don't worry, sweetie, you've been working very hard and you sound fantastic. The rabbi says so, too. I think you can spare a few hours at Nordstrom to find something new.
Shoes?
Yes, I think we can get you some shoes, too.
Okay!
Beth springs up and leaves the room with Mrs. Fine. The camera, still set in the bedroom, looks through the doorway and down the hall, where we can see Beth loping toward the front door, followed by Mrs. Fine. Then the PHONE RINGS, and Mrs. Fine detours toward the living room to answer it. Beth continues out the front door.
CUT TO:
INT. CAR - AFTERNOON (A FEW MINUTES LATER)
Beth sits in the passenger seat of the Fines' midsize family sedan, seatbelt on. She is drumming her fingers on the dashboard, waiting for Mrs. Fine to come out and drive her to the mall.
BETH'S P.O.V.: The front door of the house. It opens, and Mrs. Fine stands there, looking solemn. She gestures for Beth to come back inside.
Beth, alarmed, unbuckles the seatbelt and leaves the car.
CUT TO:
EXT. FINES' HOUSE - AFTERNOON (CONTINUOUS)
Beth rushes up to her mother.
What happened? Is it Zayde?
Mrs. Fine nods. Beth sits down on the step in front of the door and begins to cry. Mrs. Fine begins to cry as well and sits down next to Beth, who turns to hold onto her mother.
Mom... I wanted to read for him so much...
I know, sweetie, I know. And he knows it, too.
We begin to DOLLY BACK to a VERY LONG SHOT. After a few moments, the SOUND of Beth's BAT MITZVAH FADES SLOWLY UP:
Baruch atah adonai, elohainu melech haolam, asher natan lanu Torat emet, vechayai olam nata bitocheinu. Baruch atah adonai...
The response is over two hundred people strong.
Baruch hu baruch sh'mo!
The camera has finished dollying and the sound is up to full volume as we
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. LARGE SANCTUARY - LATE MORNING (FIVE MONTHS LATER)
It is Beth's bat mitzvah day. She stands, radiant in a beautiful dress, next to the rabbi, who is at the lectern. Mr. and Mrs. Fine sit in chairs toward the back of the bimah.
...and if you are impressed, as well you should be, with the outstanding job Beth has done here today, I am here to tell you that I never expected any less. And she is here to tell you that had she done any less, she would have gotten such a clop on the head from her rabbi...
Beth smiles as the congregation laughs.
Why? Because, ladies and gentlemen, Beth has had this service down pat for the last five months. Not many students make the kind of dedication to their studies that Beth made. Then again, not many people have a grandfather like Beth had.
The rabbi's tone, and the expression of those listening to him, grow more serious.
Jacob Kaufman was a pious man who brought his family and his faith with him from Russia to the New World, over sixty-five years ago. I know he looked forward with great joy to hearing Beth read from the Torah, and Beth made great sacrifices--
Beth shrugs slightly, as if to say "no big deal."
--so that he might do so. Even so, that did not turn out to be part of the Almighty's plan. (turns to Beth) But Beth, we all know that from where he is, your Zayde heard you today and is as proud of you as we are.
Beth smiles broadly through sudden tears.
He saw, as we all did here, an extraordinarily poised, sensitive, and mature young woman take her place in the Jewish community today. A woman who will make a difference in the world. A woman who, when faced with responsibilities that are difficult to bear, will listen to her heart... and do what she knows to be right.
The rabbi takes out a silver cup and a decanter of red wine from a shelf inside the lectern. As he pours some wine into the cup:
It was your grandfather's wish to give you this, his Kiddush cup, on your bat mitvah day. (turns toward congregation) It is a wish we all must now honor in his place. As we reflect now upon his blessed memory, I give this cup to Beth, to perform the blessing over the wine.
CLOSE ON BETH, still smiling broadly, still crying, as she takes the Kiddush cup from the rabbi. The rabbi steps aside as Beth climbs the stepstool up to the lectern and sings, joined by the congregation.
Baruch atah adonai, elohainu melech ha'olam, b'rai, p'ree, hagofen!
Beth drinks the wine.
A-men!
CUT TO BLACK.
CREDITS.
THE END.