The Purim Megillah story opens with King Ahasuerus’ grand pageant of beauty contestants, and concludes with Queen Esther’s dedication to her people.

Our story here begins with Ellen Nester Peters who was chosen as Miss South Africa and crowned in 1973; and continues with Ilana Skolnik in Israel, fully dedicated to Jewish life.

“I was born in Cape Town to what was called a “mixed family,” Ilana introduces herself. “My ancestors originally came from Scotland and France, possibly from Indonesia, so South Africa considered me a person of color. I had more privileges than the blacks did, but I was not allowed to study at the same school as the whites and there were no restaurants where we could eat out.

At that time there were two Miss South Africa’s in the contest. The white Miss South Africa, and the Miss Africa South representing the coloreds and black people.

I was first drawn to Jewish life when I attended a Protestant school at age ten. The teacher assigned us to study the first Chapter of Ruth, and we had to recite aloud verses 16 and 17 where Ruth the Moabite pleads with her mother in law Naomi: “Please do not leave me, for where you will go, I will go.”

The heartfelt emotional scene of Ruth’s conversion to Judaism followed me since I was ten years old. At times when I was sad and depressed, those moving and meaningful verses helped raise my spirits.

My family fully accepted the fact that I became Jewish and actually supported my choice. Personally, I think they are part Jewish. I am sorry that I never inquired more about it, but my mother had told me that my grandfather's name was Saul Solomon Jacob Simpson.

I still maintain a good relationship with my family back in South Africa. I have heard that the Lubavitcher Rebbe instructed a certain convert to keep contact with his gentile relatives, but I do so naturally, having been raised in a very warm and loving family.

I first met my husband in 1980 in Athens when I was a TWA stewardess attending to tourists visiting Greece. He is very witty and sharp, and I was attracted by his humor.

He asked me if I could show him around to various shops in Athens. I agreed and then I noticed that he had a little crocheted circle in his briefcase. I asked him, “What’s that?” He said, “Oh, that’s my kipa,” explaining that it was a special Jewish head covering. I asked him, “So why don’t you put it on your head?” That was my first instructional advice to him.

I was amazed: Here’s a real bona-fide Jew right in front of me wearing a kipa on his head! Some time later, he proposed marriage, but he was so far removed from religion that he didn't even condition it on my converting to Judaism. He said “I would like you to marry me.”

So I said, “Fine, let's get married in a civil ceremony.” But he replied: “I can't. I am Jewish, so I must get married under a chuppah ceremony.”

Getting married under a chuppah meant I would have to convert. I replied that I would have to think and pray to G-d to help me decide whether I should convert, for I didn't yet know anything about conversion and the details of Jewish life. All I knew was that it was a new and different spiritual experience and commitment.

He asked me where I wanted to live - Israel or Australia?

I’d never been to either Israel or Australia, but I grew up in a home where my father fought against the Nazis in the war at Al-amein. He was wounded and was taken up to Jerusalem. I grew up with stories and descriptions of Jerusalem, and my father kept a stone with the word “Jerusalem” in a glass cabinet. Israel sounded to be the right place.

Arriving in Israel, I lost no time and rushed to enroll in a conversion program conducted by the rabbinate in Tel Aviv. Rabbi Frankel, the chief rabbi of Tel Aviv, did not readily accept me; he kept postponing and postponing, a real ‘shlep’ that dragged on for two whole years.

I was shocked. I had suffered from racism in South Africa. His rejection to me meant that he disliked my color. I didn't know then, that this is the proper procedure; when someone applies for a proper halachic conversion, they are initially discouraged, to test their sincerity. However raised in a racist society, I felt I was being discriminated against. Today, I can fully understand it and think it is absolutely important for undergoing conversion is a serious responsibility for a life-long commitment, otherwise it can be vain and superficial.

I first applied to convert in the rabbinate office in 1982, I converted in 1984, and got married a few months later.

We traveled to New York in 1986 on business, and our Chabad emissary in Tel Aviv, Rabbi Joseph Gerlitzky, arranged for Naaman and I to meet with the Lubavitcher Rebbe in Crown Heights.

I was fascinated that the Rebbe spoke to me in Hebrew. I felt that my soul had come home. I was totally transformed and overwhelmed by the Rebbe’s holy presence, but Naaman, my husband did not share the same euphoria. Although born Jewish, Naaman was not raised religious, and had never before been involved with Chabad.

After leaving the Rebbe’s office at “770,” I browsed in local Jewish bookstore. There I picked up a Passover cookbook featuring Kosher for Passover recipes. Opening the book, I saw a letter from the Rebbe. A line there caught my eye. The Rebbe stressed that the atmosphere in a Jewish home depends on the woman.

In my particular situation I felt that I was the Jewish woman the Rebbe was speaking to. The atmosphere in my home depended on me. Me!

I bought the book and together with my husband who was very understanding, we began to grow Jewishly. A leading Israeli businessman, Naaman now serves as chairman of Tel Aviv’s Friends of Lubavitch, and actively helps Rabbi Gerlitsky’s efforts to strengthen and promote Torah life, even in Tale Aviv’s secular milieu and orientation.

Ilana Skonik is a popular international lecturer who speaks with warmth and passion about her personal experience in finding the true and inner beauty of Jewish life and observance.