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109 Believing Read to Michael on his Bar Mitzvah People always want proof: DNA, a fossil, a fingerprint, a burning bush. This science of faith eludes me; to those who doubt, I offer the authenticity of you: I tell them to look closely, to see the curvature of your head, the way your glasses slip down your nose, the pools of sweet chocolate melted in your eyes, the chubby legs that quickly make a break, your smile, unfettered by worry or the nagging feeling you might look silly— 110 ♦ Life with a Superhero “See!” you whoop. “Life is always silly!” I beg the cynic to listen, to hear the voice whose first words—“hi, Daddy”— marked a hallelujah, marked a genesis, marked the beginning of a trillion hellos to a trillion sleeping people in lines, cafes, offices, stores, hallways, and parks, all people who woke up, seemed alive for the first time, all at the sound of your greeting. I take the skeptic’s hand, and we try to follow, hope we can see your world, where the colors of skin are no more than hues of crayons, where bodies mimic the shapes of blocks, all useful, all part of the building, where war is a card game, and G-d is everyone’s friend— I’ve watched head-shakers slow their wobbling when you sing in a key of your own making, and dance to your own music— their bodies begin to sway—they whirl with you and Woody, (Spidey, The Man of Steel, and The Caped Crusader too), each of you a hero. Believing ♦ 111 I offer not an exact analysis or a methodical deduction; I offer just you, a simple certainty, dear and true, just you—a way to believe— my undeniable proof, my sweetest declaration of G-d. ...

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