Disclaimer: South Park is not mine, I wrote this story just for fun.

Author's Notes: I actually wrote this story a long time ago, and decided to submit it just now, after I revised something in the ending.

Sorry for spelling or grammar mistakes, English is not my native language.

Her Son

Her mother's wedding dress was plain, made from pieces of white cloth which were sewed together to make a dress that barely fitted her figure. It was made in a rush; her mother insisted on a wedding dress, even if the wedding was short. Her mother told her many times how mere minutes after the wedding they were on their way out of the devastated Poland and into the stomach of a crowded ship that would take them to the United States of America. The tears were visible, but Sheila didn't mind them as she tried the dress on in her parents' room in front of the big mirror. She loved that dress and she always imagined herself getting married in it. She was always caught by her mother, though, who yelled at her and told her to put the dress back in the closet before the tears in it get worse. That was when Sheila decided to never put down her daughter when she'll have one, and that she'll allow her to try on her wedding dress as much as she'd like.

Yehi ratson milfaneicha Adonai elohai ve'elohei avotai…

Like her mother's wedding dress, the food she made was plain as well. They mostly ate dry meat filled with fat and potatoes, because her mother didn't want her daughter to grow thin as she had when she was in the Nazis' camp. Her mother almost never cooked something new or tasty, and even though Sheila hated it, she had to eat it all. "In camp we didn't have meat! Only hot water that were excused as soup! You should be grateful!" her mother yelled every time Sheila tried to complain, then turned to her husband and whispered to him something in Yiddish that Sheila knew was somehow related to her stubborn character and disobedience.

Shetechonen oti ve'et ishi ve'et kol krovai…

Only when she brought Gerald – her fiancé – home did her mother actually changed the regular menu and cooked a fancy dinner. Sheila already took cooking class and she told Gerald that she would teach their daughter how to cook, so no one in their family will have to eat the same thing each and every single day.

Vetiten lanu ulechol Israel chaim tovim va'arukim…

She didn't get to wear her mother's wedding dress during her own wedding. Her mother didn't allow it, saying that she saved every penny for her daughter's wedding, and that there's no way in hell that she'll wear that old and ugly dress. Besides, that dress was too small for her daughter's sizes. Sheila swore to never feed her daughter with so much food like her mother fed her as Gerald broke the glass next to her to the sound of many claps in the background.

Vetizkerenu bezichron tova ubracha…

Countless of sleep deprived nights passed since her wedding night, yet her stomach never contained a living being inside it. Why didn't her daughter come?

Vetifkedenu biphkudat yeshua verachamim utevarchenu brachot gdolot…

The doctor said that pregnancy would not come naturally to her. She became depressed and locked herself in her and her and Gerald's small room, crying herself to sleep every night. Will she ever know the joy of having a daughter?

Vetashlim bateinu…

Gerald came to her one night and wrapped her in a tight hug, saying that they'll use the money they saved for a new house for pregnancy treatments.

After years of attempts, she finally conceived. She and her husband were overjoyed. Finally, she could have her daughter! She refused to know the sex of the child in her stomach before the birth, wanting her present from God to be surprising.

Gerald decided to move from the big city to a small redneck town in Colorado so his wife could relax and give birth safely. After all, a lot of women, who don't conceive naturally, lose their children before they're even born.

Vetashken shchinatcha beineinu…

She gave birth to a boy. Gerald saw the disappointment in her eyes, and told her that an elder son was the will of God. She knew she'd love the boy with all of her heart, she already did, but she will always miss the daughter of her dreams and innermost wishes.

Her son will grow to be a man among men, she decided. Just like his father. He'll grow smart and strong and marry a beautiful, Jewish lady.

Vezakeni legadel banim ubnei banim chachamim unevonim…

Her boy was beautiful. A bit of red hair grew on his head, his lips were thin and his eyes bright. Such a perfect baby…

Ohavei Adonai…

He proved to be more handsome as he grew up, with curly hair and green eyes. He was a happy boy, always smiling and cheerful, full of energy and life. "Have you seen the Broflovskis' son?" the people of the town said among themselves as she passed by them with her son, causing her immense pride.

Yirei Elohim…

Her little boy is perfect.

One day he came home with his face wet from tears. She demanded for the cause of such sadness in her son's usually bright eyes.

"Is being Jewish a bad thing?" he asked her then, his eyes big and frightened.

"What what what what?" she exclaimed, shocked beyond words. Her son was so young and he already doubted his religion? "Of course not!" she yelled. "Who told you that it is?"

Anshei emet

He wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "A boy in my class," he replied.

"Why would he tell you something like that?"

His lips quivered, and it broke her heart. "We were talking about Christmas and what we're going to get as p-presents. I said that I don't celebrate C-Christmas where I live, and Eric said that Jews can't celebrate Christmas because they k-killed Jesus!"

"Well, that is not true, young man! Jewish people are not murderers!" she shouted, more from fear of what her son heard so early in his life than from worry about his doubts. Her mother had lived in the shadows of such beliefs; she would not let her son be the same.

Zera kodesh be'Adonai…

The following day she went to her son's class and demanded to speak with Eric Cartman's mother. His mother proved to be a very nice lady, and she promised to teach her son to be more tolerant other's beliefs. But her Kyle was not convinced, and Sheila had to take him to the orthodox Rabbi in Denver to erase the doubt from his mind.

"You're a smart boy!" the Rabbi had said. "Boys are very important in Judaism, did you know that? They study the Torah and bring joy to people's lives!"

"I'm going to be smart?" her son asked, a small smile forming on his lips.

"Yes!" The Rabbi replied, also smiling. "Ma'am, you should be happy that God gave you this son as your eldest!"

That conversation apparently convinced her son, for he never asked about the past again. She, too, came out from there with a realization. If boys were important in her religion, then she must have another one. This time, though, they will do two good things at once. When Kyle entered first grade, Ike became a part of their family.

Only in her dreams she would have the daughter she longed for, and that daughter would cook with her and sew with her and try on her wedding dress and she'd understand her the best.

Dvekim ume'irim et ha'olam betorah ubema'asim tovim ubechol melechet avodat habore…

She was positive that she was dreaming at that time, when she entered her room and found her eldest son, only seven years old, standing in front of the big mirror in her room and trying on her wedding dress. Finding it cute, she took at least ten pictures of her son in it. He was acting just like her little daughter.

Such a perfect boy…

Ana shma et tchinati ba'et hazot…

She never liked the friends that he found for himself. Eric with his constant anti-Semitic remarks, Kenny with his drunken dad and poor family… Only Stan seemed to be normal, and that was probably the reason they were best friends.

Her son did well with his studies. Of course she was always proud of his achievements, but only when he got to junior high and still got mostly straight A's did she start to praise him for his grades. He will get into a top university, she knew. He would be a successful lawyer just like his father, or maybe a doctor, and he would find a great wife just like herself.

Her perfect boy…

Sometimes, just like any other boy, he got mad at her. He never understood that she only wanted the best for him, that she only wanted to protect him from the cruelness of the world they lived in. Just like her own mother, who never spoiled her but always protected her from the potential Nazis that were solely in her mind. She knew that Kyle would understand when he'd become a father.

Bizchut Sarah ve'Rivkah ve'Rachel ve'Leah imoteinu…

He helped her cook sometimes, and she always thanked him for his help, getting excited when he got even better than her at the task of food making.

When he got to high school, he began dressing differently. Not too casual but not too fancy. She loved his clothes, figuring he's trying to attract girls. The way he moved and walked was almost graceful, and in her eyes her son was the best she could ask for.

Under his mattress she never found forbidden magazines, nor in his drawers or schoolbag. Her son was a pure soul, fit for his religion.

His relationship with Stan only got better as they got older, and they spent almost every free minute they had with each other. She was glad that her son got himself a best friend, someone who would be there for him and no matter what. She never had a best friend. Stanley Marsh was a great kid, polite and handsome, best fitted to be friends with her eldest son, her perfect son.

One evening, when Stan and her son were in her house, she made a big dinner. One just like her mother made when she brought home her fiancé. Stan deserves the best, just like her son. She was so excited she could not wait to invite both of them down to eat. She didn't knock on the door, and on the bed in Kyle's room, she saw her son and his best friend share a kiss.

Ve'haer nerenu shelo ichbe le'olam ve'haer paniecha ve'nivashea…

She closed the door behind her quietly, her smile never leaving her face. But as she went down the stairs back to the kitchen, her eyes became almost blank. The emptiness in her eyes stared at the boiling pots, and she took them in her hands, ignoring the heat. She felt a bit sorry that the food she worked so hard on will have to go to waste.

She stared as the bubbles died down in the trash can outside her house, her expression almost lifeless. Soon, she'd have to get back home and prepare a simple dinner for Ike and Gerald…

…And for her son.



Author's Note: the lines in italic are lines from a prayer that is said by a Jewish woman when she lights candles for the Shabbat. Here's the translation (which took me hours to find…):

May it be Your will HASHEM, my God and God of my forefathers, that You show favor to me my husband, my sons, my daughters, my father, my mother and all my relatives; and that You grant us and all Israel a good and long life; that You remember us with a beneficent memory and blessing; that You consider us with a consideration of salvation and compassion; that You bless us with great blessings; that You make our households complete; that You cause Your Presence to dwell among us. Privilege me to raise children (A/N: in Hebrew the prayer is referring to boys) and grandchildren who are wise and understanding, who love HASHEM and fear God, people of truth, holy offspring, attached to HASHEM, who illuminate the world with Torah and good deeds and with every labor in the service of the Creator. Please, hear my supplication at this time, in the merit of Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and Leah, our mothers, and cause our light to illuminate that it be not extinguished forever, and let Your countenance shine so that we are saved. Amen.