It's tradition they say....
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My name was predestined to be. It is tradition, as my father would say. We, as Syrian Jewish descendants, name our children after the names of their grandparents, starting with the father’s parents and then the mother’s parents. So my big brother is named after my grandfather and my other brother is named after my mom's father. Then came my sister, she was supposed to be Hana as my paternal grandmother, but my mom opposed, it was such a strong heavy name for a little baby. So she skipped tradition, broke my grandmother’s heart and named her Idit.
The years kept passing and the family kept growing, all my uncles had kids, everyone has a Jacob (my grandfather’s name) but still, to my grandmother’s pain, no Hana in the family. Not even one.
My mom always tells me the story that when I was born and my grandmother saw me, she knew that I was going to carry on her name, she started calling me Hana even before my parents decided what name to give me. I was the last chance she had of passing on her name, the last member of her big family. She felt deep inside that this name was made to be for me.
The origin of my name (Hana) comes from the Bible, Hana the father of the profet Samuel. Hana begged God to give her a son, and so He did, so the name literally means "favored with grace".
At the end my parents decided to call me Hany, because Hana sounded to old and strong. On that day my grandmother blessed me, she wished for me to be just like her; strong, willing, with a big family, a good heart and a good cook.
I’m not sure if I got all of her characteristics, but I do know that having her name makes me very proud, it made me closer to her and gave me the opportunity to discover an amazing world full of stories, guidance, joy, tears and delicious recipes she carried from her childhood in Turkey, Lebanon and Syria.
My name was predestined to be. It is tradition, as my father would say. We, as Syrian Jewish descendants, name our children after the names of their grandparents, starting with the father’s parents and then the mother’s parents. So my big brother is named after my grandfather and my other brother is named after my mom's father. Then came my sister, she was supposed to be Hana as my paternal grandmother, but my mom opposed, it was such a strong heavy name for a little baby. So she skipped tradition, broke my grandmother’s heart and named her Idit.
The years kept passing and the family kept growing, all my uncles had kids, everyone has a Jacob (my grandfather’s name) but still, to my grandmother’s pain, no Hana in the family. Not even one.
My mom always tells me the story that when I was born and my grandmother saw me, she knew that I was going to carry on her name, she started calling me Hana even before my parents decided what name to give me. I was the last chance she had of passing on her name, the last member of her big family. She felt deep inside that this name was made to be for me.
The origin of my name (Hana) comes from the Bible, Hana the father of the profet Samuel. Hana begged God to give her a son, and so He did, so the name literally means "favored with grace".
At the end my parents decided to call me Hany, because Hana sounded to old and strong. On that day my grandmother blessed me, she wished for me to be just like her; strong, willing, with a big family, a good heart and a good cook.
I’m not sure if I got all of her characteristics, but I do know that having her name makes me very proud, it made me closer to her and gave me the opportunity to discover an amazing world full of stories, guidance, joy, tears and delicious recipes she carried from her childhood in Turkey, Lebanon and Syria.
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