When I was 5, I had two things on my mind: Chip and Dobi. Chip was a stuffed-animal chipmunk and Dobi was a toy dog. They were soft and furry, and I dragged them around in my arms or backpack to just about any place I possibly could. They were the ideal childhood friends: cuddly, easygoing and incredibly good listeners. To me, they were perfect.
Little did I know that they were lacking one critical quality: Chip and Dobi, my beloved toys stuffed of polyester fibers and God knows what else, weren’t Jewish.
Yes, stuffed animals can be People of the Book. I personally know of at least three right here in the Bay Area.
I encountered them at a recent Tot Shabbat service at San Francisco’s Congregation B’nai Emunah, a Conservative synagogue. It was a special Saturday morning service, presided over by Rabbi Ted Alexander — affectionately known as “Rabbi Ted” by the synagogue’s children. The kids were invited to bring in their stuffed animals for a Hebrew naming ceremony just for the cute and the cuddly.
That morning, eight children crowded around Rabbi Ted, who has served as the religious leader of B’nai Emunah for the past 37 years. Some of the children held out their soon-to-be Jewish toys, while others looked through a colorful book about the biblical story of Joshua. As soon as Rabbi Ted was ready, each child who’d brought a stuffed animal handed it over to be named. The rabbi then blessed the toy and returned it to its eager owner, along with a certificate stating the toy’s new Hebrew name and a complimentary Kit Kat candy bar.
Pooh, a classic yellow teddy bear, soon became Pessach. A teddy bear named Juliette soon became Leeba, a form of the Hebrew word meaning “heart.”
“I hereby certify that Juliette, a teddy bear and favorite playmate of Liora is awarded the Hebrew name Leeba,” read the words on the certificate handed to Liora, proud owner of Leeba. “May Liora and Leeba have a lot of fun playing with one another and may HaShem keep Liora a happy and healthy child.”
After spending the morning at B’nai Emunah’s Tot Shabbat ceremony and, later, the regular Saturday service, I couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that, at least in this synagogue, a happy, healthy and Jewish childhood is a main priority. I watched as, once the naming ceremony was over, the children were encouraged to join the main Shabbat service, toys and Kit Kat bars in hand. Fellow congregants tolerantly and happily let the children wander through the synagogue and sit or move around as they pleased. At one point, Rabbi Ted even invited the children to dance with him on the bimah as they sang a traditional song.
I thought back to the little bit of time I had spent as a child in my grandfather’s synagogue in Jerusalem, and how I had loved to watch the Friday night and Saturday morning services. But I couldn’t help wondering how much more I could have enjoyed and benefited from the synagogue if I had felt that I was there not just as an observer, but in fact as an integral part of the service.
Is there any meaning to giving Hebrew names to clumps of synthetic fibers? Not really (although if you had asked me during my Chip and Dobi days, I would have probably answered with an unequivocal “yes”).
There is, however, plenty of meaning in finding creative ways for children to take part in all aspects of Jewish life — traditions and biblical stories, history and even Shabbat services.
Stuffed animals have about as much “Jewishness” as a carrot or a car or any other inanimate object, but what better way to relate to children than through their beloved companions — their toys?
Chip and Dobi are still hidden somewhere, I’m sure, probably tucked away in a big, dusty plastic bag in my parents’ garage. But it might be a little late for their conversion. Then again, anything is possible: Aren’t adult b’nai mitzvah gaining popularity?
Michal Lev-Ram, born in Israel, is a freelance writer in San Francisco. She can be reached at [email protected].