The night before my conversion, I lay in bed, excited thoughts whirling around in my head, tinged with nervousness about the actual procedure

Finally, it was time to join the Jewish nation. I was eight years old. The decision to convert wasn’t difficult. My family was Jewish, at least culturally; my father was born Jewish, and my mother was studying toward her conversion. Kids need less preparation than adults before giyur, and like I mentioned, it’s a big deal for kids who have a Jewish father to convert. It was such an exciting time, but I was also nervous, primarily about going into the mikveh. I was worried about the deep water, because I didn’t like to swim and was always nervous around water. My parents and Rebbetzin Samberg prepared me extensively: I knew exactly what to expect and exactly what I would have to do. The night before my conversion, I lay in bed, excited thoughts whirling around in my head, tinged with nervousness about the actual procedure.

When I woke up the next morning, it felt like a special day, kind of like a birthday. My parents were so excited; I was going to be the first one in the family to accept a brand-new identity. I was a little worried about doing something wrong, so my parents went over all the details with me once again, and off we went.