Dating a non jew
He had known other girls and, as I was twenty-five before we married, I had had my share of other men's attention.Consequently our marriage was not the hasty, impassioned leap of two people soaring on the Icarian wings of a first love. Here we are then, Ben and I, a Jew and a German-American, married for four years, supremely happy, with a three-year-old son who has his father's quick brown eyes and my yellow hair. I am an American-born girl, and the first to defend my Americanism in an argument; yet so strong are family ties, and the memory of a happy thirteen-month sojourn in the a few years ago, that I frequently find myself trying to see things from the Nazis' point of view and to find excuses for the things they do—to the dismay of our liberal-minded friends and the hurt confusion of my husband.
She had introduced me to her family and they like me and let me come to their house.
That which was between us was calm as the night, deep as the sea; in the light of it we both knew that forever afterwards he would look upon other women, and I upon other men, as pale wraiths.
We determined that no obstacle should prevent our union, and obstacles there were a-plenty as soon as our families learned our intention.'Child,' entreated my mother, who deep in her heart had always hoped that what she referred to as my superior intelligence, careful upbringing, talents, and attractiveness, would land me a husband well up in the social levels, ‘bethink yourself what this means.
Remember there are a dozen other less tangible discriminations against them.''That makes not a whit of difference, to me,' I stubbornly maintained. I'd marry him if he were a Hottentot.''But, child, remember the racial and religious differences between you.
Remember that your children will be pulled in two different directions.'Ben's mother and father attend an orthodox synagogue, observe the dietary rules and all the ritual holy days.