There are certain milestones in life that make you pause and reflect. For me, aside from reflecting on the life of a departed parent, these have been around birthdays and my kids officially becoming adults by celebrating their bar/bat mitzvahs. I shared the speech I wrote for my middle daughter Hannah’s bat mitzvah in 2018 (you can read it here).
On January 11, 2026, almost exactly eight years later, my younger daughter, Mia Sarah, celebrated becoming an adult, at least according to Jewish tradition (she turned 12). This is what I told her.
Dear Mia Sarah,
Let me tell you what happened two weeks before you were born. We were celebrating Hannah’s 8th birthday, on December 28, 2013. The conversation shifted to you – a bowling ball in Mom’s stomach. Both of your grandmothers, armed with a ruler, studied Mom’s stomach very carefully and with scientific certainty pronounced you’d be a boy.
Then, two weeks later, on a Saturday morning, Mom woke us up; and all of us, including Jonah and Hannah, went to the hospital to meet the bowling ball.
Since you were born into a Jewish family, every birth is associated with food – specifically, the food I ate when my kids were born. When Jonah was born, on the way to the hospital we stopped at Taco Bell. With Hannah, I upgraded to Chipotle. With your birth, while Grandma Zoya kept Mom and future you entertained in the hospital, I took Jonah and Hannah to Einstein Bagel for breakfast.
For reasons I don’t understand, I had to eat on my own each time. Mom always had an excuse, something about contractions. Very antisocial.
No, there is no punchline or lesson here. I just thought it was important for you to learn about the moments you missed.
I have to confess, the most difficult part about having kids – other than raising them – is naming them. There’s so much responsibility. You give someone a name they’ll carry for the rest of their life. They need to like it. You need to like it. And if you’re an Ashkenazi Jew, there’s an extra degree of difficulty – tradition says you have to name a child after a relative who passed away. Try giving Slavic or old Jewish names to modern American kids – you’re going to set them up for years of abuse.
Jonah’s middle name is Berel – after my Mom’s father.
Hannah’s first name is after your Mom’s grandma, and her middle name, Emily, is after my grandma.
Naming you happened in the dark ages before ChatGPT– we had to do it manually. We finally settled on Sarah Mia, the Mia part after my Grandmother Manya. We called you Sarah Mia for a day or two, but for reasons I cannot explain, it didn’t sit well with me. I asked Mom if we could flip it to Mia Sarah. She agreed. Luckily, the mailman hadn’t picked up the mail yet. The hospital hadn’t submitted your name to the government, so we easily changed it.
Life is full of randomness. If the mailman had come a few hours earlier, you would have been Sarah Mia.
Let me tell you a secret. We didn’t plan Jonah and Hannah, but you were requested by me. When I asked Mom if we could have another child, her reply was – are you writing another book? We had a deal – a book per child. At the time, I’d written two books. I was not thinking about a book. I had a different reason. Your existence was triggered by my love of skiing with Jonah and Hannah. I know, really selfish. Mom doesn’t ski, and I wanted to make sure I’d have a ski buddy when your brother and sister decided they were too cool to ski with their dad. Though Jonah and Hannah still love skiing with me, you now understand why your getting better at skiing is such a high priority.
Now you understand why it is your moral obligation, basically your life’s purpose, to become a better skier and ski more with me.
Back to food. I remember sitting at Einstein Bagels while Mom was battling contractions, looking at Jonah and Hannah finishing their lox bagels and thinking there was no way I could love anyone as much as I loved them. And then you arrived.
There are so many odd things I love about you. I love how you learned Russian by watching seven seasons of the Russian sitcom “Inlaws” ten times.
I love how after binge-watching “MasterChef” on Hulu you started giving everyone at home cooking advice as if you were a master chef.
I love how you were genuinely upset that I dedicated The Little Book of Sideways Markets (written four years before you were born) to Jonah and Hannah and did not mention you.
I love how you and Hannah, despite your age difference, are best friends. This is so special – treasure it.
I love that you are the one who came up with the title for my new book, What a Life!, without even reading it. You said, “Dad, you say it all the time – it should be the title of your book.” This ended a six-month search for the title.
I was the first person to take you to the movie theater, when you were four years old. We saw Coco. I love how you and I spent hours and hours singing every possible version of “Remember Me” from Coco during the pandemic. It became our song.
I can keep going, but I don’t want to make Jonah and Hannah jealous. Though you do try to trick me at least once a week into saying that you are my favorite child. So far I have avoided that trap. But you are getting more creative every day.
My favorite part of the day is from 7:40 to 8am when I get to drive you to school. I cannot tell you how much I look forward to it. I treasure these 20 minutes dearly and try desperately to bottle them up. Though I know there will be a time when you won’t need me to drive you to school, and then at some point you’ll be going to university.
During those drives, you and I listen to music. And not just classical music. We’re discovering new musicals. I love watching you when you hear music for the first time – your face lights up.
On curiosity, role models, and wisdom.
Learning and discovering new things should be a big part of your life. Never stop being curious.
You have two incredible role models – Jonah and Hannah. You’ve done an awesome job of absorbing their best qualities. You are as funny as Jonah. Let me correct that – you are funnier than Jonah. Though when I tell Jonah this, he tells me that you’ve just perfected “dad jokes” and, since I am your only audience, I’m not a great judge of your humor.
If you become an entertainer, there is nothing wrong with focusing on a niche. There are a lot of dads out there for dad jokes. Though Jonah would say your current niche – Russian-Jewish-agnostic-balding-investor-writer-wannabe-philosopher – might be a bit too narrow.
Hannah wakes up with a smile. Honestly, I’ve never seen another person who does this. You almost wake up with a smile. The first five minutes of the day you have the intensity of someone trying to solve the Middle East conflict; but then in a few minutes you melt into Hannah’s sunshine, and the rest of the day you are sunlight, emitting kindness and joy.
Always look for role models. Find the best and worst qualities in your friends. Adopt the best and avoid the bad. As you get older, expand your role models far beyond your immediate circle of friends and family – otherwise you’re limiting yourself. Find role models in the pages of books, in history, in fields beyond your own.
Don’t limit yourself to just one source of wisdom. Wisdom is everywhere – you just need to be open to it. I have learned a lot from traveling, in conversations with friends, and of course in books. What I love about the Judaism of my ancestors is that they encouraged debate, that everything in the Torah was up for questioning and you had to arrive at your own conclusions. Religion can make people open-minded and it can also close them off.
Look at religion the same way I look at AI – it can liberate you or it can enslave you. If you outsource all your thinking to AI, it will weaken your thinking muscles. You won’t develop your own critical thinking. You’ll become a follower, not a leader. The same applies to religion. I know I’ll be expelled from this synagogue as a heretic, but not all wisdom is in the Torah. If it were, we would have been on Mars five thousand years ago. Thoughtfully choose what works for you – ignore what doesn’t.
On choosing who you let into your life and on focus.
Both Hannah and Jonah elevate you. In fact, in your Bat Mitzvah speech, you say that God’s belief in Moses elevated him to do great things. Surround yourself with people who will elevate you and make you better. Do not let toxic people who will bring you down into your life. Subtracting is as important as adding.
But you are your own person. If I had to use one word to describe you, it would be sharp. It’s sharpness with an enveloping sphere of kindness and sensitivity. I also know that you’ll tell me exactly what you think. You are smart, but it is your focus that brings this sharpness. You can do your homework for one subject for three hours straight.
I love how you started gulping books like Hannah. Just like Jonah 2.0 – in his senior year in high school and beyond – you are organized and dedicated to studying. Most importantly, just like both of your siblings, you are kind.
This focus is a superpower – keep it.
On family.
Mom and I are very lucky. We are blessed with incredible kids. I have the same message for you as I have for Jonah and Hannah – you are wonderful as you are.
As you get older you’ll have other people in your life, but remember that Jonah and Hannah are the most important people – you should take care of each other.
Mia Sarah, my sharp, kind, wonderful girl – I know that as you grow up you will become even more of what you already are: an incredible, thoughtful human being who lights up the world around her with kindness, curiosity, and that superpower focus of yours.
And if I ever rewrite and republish The Little Book of Sideways Markets, I’ll dedicate it to Jonah, Hannah and Mia Sarah.
I am going to steal Grandpa Naum’s line. I have three kids, I love them all equally. But if you divide 100% by three, you get 33% — you have this 1% left. Today, on your birthday, I love you 1% more — yes, you got it out of me, today for one day you are my favorite child by 1%.
Mom and I are very proud of you.
Mazel Tov.
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