Something in her tone woke me up to a new possibility. Could it be that Mommy actually wanted me to come home?

Some girls know before they even get off the plane that they’ll be staying in seminary for Pesach. Some girls know that no way, no how, are they staying for Pesach. And some girls aren’t told they have to come home, but they have the option to if they want to.

Those girls are lucky, in a way, to get to decide for themselves. But at some point, the decision of where to spend Pesach has to be made, and there’s only one person who can make it.

Guess which category I fell into.

My parents gave me the freedom to make my own decision. I’m really not such a homesick type. Succos away from home had its challenges, but it was more adventure than heartache, and I was sure I would be well taken care of on Pesach too.

As Chanukah came around and Pesach got even closer, stories started circulating about how much girls in other years had gained from being in Eretz Yisrael without a break in middle. Going home for Pesach shoves reality back in your face and brings you up close and personal with the imminence of the big, scary, wonderful world of adulthood. You’re forced to contemplate what your next steps will be and where they should take you. You have to learn how to reconcile your seminary self with your high school self and what that means in terms of who you are and want to be. But staying in seminary for Pesach gives you a dashing suntan, happy once-in-a-lifetime memories, and a flow that helps consolidate your spiritual accomplishments.