There were times that Jessica seemed to fray around the edges, but for the most part, she appeared to enjoy her role as sister of the Bar Mitzvah boy. She enjoyed going to the mailbox each day to collect the response cards and she nudged her brother to write his thank you notes.

Finally, the day that my son was to enter the adult Jewish community arrived. We were all dressed in our finest. Adam looked so handsome in his new navy blue suit and red tie with his black hair slicked back. Jessica was wearing a puffy new pink confection with a huge bow in her hair and shiny patent leather shoes. It was a 'kvelling' occasion.

The Bar Mitzvah morning went smoothly as my son led the services in a voice that was just beginning to change from a boy to a man. Occasionally, it would crack as he sang, and Jessica and I would look at each other and smile.

Then it was time for the Holy Ark to be opened, the Torah was taken out in full regalia for the procession through the aisles.

Since we attend synagogue regularly, Jessica had witnessed the Torah procession many times before. But on this particular Shabbat morning, she apparently took notice for the first time. As the Torah was being gently lifted from its place by her grandfather and handed to Adam to symbolize passing it from one generation to another, Jessica had a look of awe on her tiny face. As Adam and the other men walked around carrying the Torah, Jessica stopped playing with her Barbie dolls (her usual synagogue companions) and stretched out her little hand out to touch the soft, royal blue velvet. She lovingly held her hand there a little longer than usual, seemingly lost in the warm and soft feeling of the Torah mantle. As her brother read the ancient words, she didn't move a muscle. Her eyes never left him.

Before long the service was over. We had a lovely kiddush lunch of chicken and chulent and kugel, and reveled in the good wishes of friends and family. We walked home, took and nap and when Shabbat was over, changed into our party duds. No one was more excited to be dressed up than Jessica.

She twirled around the house in her party dress, clearly feeling as adorable as she looked. Without a shy bone in her body, she was anxious to socialize with friends and relatives from near and far.

I have to admit I went overboard with the party for my oldest son. There was too much rich food, too many elaborate decorations and too much loud music. I was caught up in the thrill and pride of my oldest reaching this milestone. Jessica was delighted by everything at the party. She loved the party favors that glow in the dark, the cotton candy machine and the hot dog cart. She was delighted to stay up late dancing with every uncle and cousin. Truly, she was the belle of the ballí a natural party girl.

At about two a.m. the party began to break up. The videographer pulled me aside and asked me if Jessica could say a few words of congratulations to her brother "for the record." I held my breath, worrying about what my little comedian might be caught saying for posterity.

The videograher said to her, "Jessica, it's been a long weekend. I just want to know...what was your favorite part of the bar mitzvah?" She batted her long eyelashes at him (and the camera) and seemed to be putting much thought into her answer. Then my baby replied, "I liked the part when Adam carried the beautiful Torah."

It was as if on that day my little girl was transformed as well. As her brother was entering adulthood, Jessica began her own spiritual journey.