I remember being a young girl and asking my mom if our town had a synagogue. Startled, she told me in a firm voice that we did not have a synagogue in our town. In her mind we were German and English and Cherokee. However, the next year for my birthday I received a signed copy of Golda Meir's autobiography. When DNA and research by a distant cousin showed the Jewish line my mom, by then battling lung cancer smiled and looked at a picture of her grandma.
