Celebrating Miriam Lorie

I went to a regular weekday minyan. Not always easy with a toddler in the house, but the space and time to get to know our tefillah in a supportive space with peers was really important to my Jewish development. Orthodox women don’t often get to experience prayer as a communal experience and I learned how much more motivating and meaningful it is to daven alongside others. I also tried to take a photo of the sky outside the Beit Midrash every minyan morning – the patchwork of changing skies that I have in my photo album is a lasting memento from that special time.

The Beit Midrash was the setting of most of my memories, but the learning that happened beyond was also impactful. Tiyulim, Shabbatot, meals with friends and teachers. But if I had to choose one memory then it would be a Tanakh Tiyul, learning stories from Bereishit about Grar, in Grar!

The unexpected dusty charm of the garden of the Natural History Museum, particularly during a Nava Tehila service where the beauty of people coming together to make gorgeous, spiritual music, matches up to the natural beauty.

Pardes was the year when I decided, “I’d like to dedicate my life to this Jewish thing.” For so many reasons. Pardes embodies joyful yet serious text learning. It invites every question. The teachers are phenomenal pedagogues, deep-rooted scholars and most importantly, they’re menches. Pardes models a cross-denominational Jewish way of being that is incredibly difficult to find done well elsewhere. When I arrived, I felt a bit bruised by the criticism my community received when we started the UK’s first partnership minyan. The welcome and acceptance of Pardes was not only healing but helped me build back up to soar into my future work.

When my work inspires the next generation of girls and young women. The change that feels difficult and slow to us will, I really believe, be an obvious given for them. A Bat Mitzvah student told me this week, “you’ve made real change happen.” – That was nachas.