Mark David’s speech for his daughter’s Bat Mitzvah

 My Bar Mitzvah was one of the happiest occasions in my life, when everyone who was important to me gathered together. Now it’s your turn, Lacy, your Bat Mitzvah, in this Sanctuary full of hope and flowers, with G-d all around us – our family, extended family, friends, two cats, a dog, and all of my dreams for you.

Your mom and I were together for ten years, never expecting to have children. But then, thirteen years ago, at two o’clock on a soft, snowy Valentine’s Day morning, you arrived with your basket of redheaded miracles, filling my clumsy, grateful heart with another blessing every day.

There are so many.

When you were two, I fed you sushi, which you ate, no big deal, while all the other little girls were struggling with squash. At five, you insisted I get my Doctorate in Dollies, so we could play with yours. The following year, I was honored to escort you to a Princess and Tea birthday party, complete with that f’kaktah frilly costume and the floppy, purple hat.

At eight, you took me snowboarding, convinced you were better at it than I was, even though you crashed a dozen times. And at eleven point six, we went to that haunted Halloween house in Bracebridge, where I was more terrified than you’ll ever be.

Not many young ladies are as comfortable on roller coasters, and bungee jumping, as they are curled up with their cats. But they’re not, and could never be, you, an A student who always has a good word for everyone.

It feels like you just got here, Lacy, and yet, you’ll be off to college in five years. I treasure our time together – riding bikes through Queen’s Park, walking over to Yorkville, grabbing a pizza at Nirvana, dessert at The Four Seasons, and especially our family Friday night dinners at home.

Honey, you’ve met the challenges in your life with grace and grit. Blue Mountain knows you can tame her. When she says bring it on, you and your friends on the Ski Cross team do just that, showing those slopes how it’s done when it’s done right, and you rank #12. This commitment to your sport dazzles me. You don’t spend every possible weekend on the mountain because your mom and I tell you to. You’re there because you want to be there.

Unlike most kids, you don’t practice the Jewish religion because we do. You chose to be a Jew, discovering and enjoying our traditions on your own. Nobody in this world could be more pleased by that choice than me.

Every night as I pass your bedroom door, making my list of wishes for your life, as soon as I write one down, another one pops up, with a dozen more. Lacy, I want you to find your way, whichever undiscovered roads you take, and hope you’re smiling with every step, proud of who you are. You’ll make an amazing mom someday. I hope your children bring you as much joy and wonder as you and Muskoka do to your mom and me.

This is the beginning of the adventure called your teens. As you grow into a woman, it’s exciting to know you can be whatever you want to be, flying as high as high goes, then double it, and triple it again. Just promise me one thing: no matter how many mountains you conquer, remember that this guy who tries so hard to be cool in your eyes, will always be here for you, no matter what.

Thank you for making me so proud to be your dad. Happy birthday, Lacy. I love you. L’chaim.

Bar Mitzvah Speech Example @ 2022 Molly-Ann Leikin