The necklace my grandmother gave me for my Bat Mitzvah is simple, a delicate chain with my name written in Hebrew, but it carries a history far greater than its size. My grandmother was born in Romania in 1957 into a Jewish family that had to hide who they were. Antisemitism shaped her childhood in ways I can barely imagine. Her family couldn’t tell their neighbors they were Jewish, and her father even worked as a mall Santa to avoid suspicion. Their identity had to be concealed for their safety. Everything changed when her family moved to Israel. There, for the first time, she could live openly, without fear. She threw herself into building a new life, learning Hebrew, excelling in school, and eventually becoming a nurse and later a professor at one of Israel’s top universities. Her story is one of resilience, reinvention, and pride in her identity. When she gave me this necklace, it became more than just a piece of jewelry. As an Israeli girl whose parents immigrated to the United States, I see my own story reflected in hers. The necklace represents the journey from hiding to pride, from fear to freedom. Wearing my name in Hebrew is something I never have to think twice about, but for my grandmother, that same expression of identity was once dangerous.