From Animal Tears to Kosher Truths

Born an Animal Lover: How a Childhood Passion Found Peace in Kosher Living

From the moment I could walk, I was in love with animals.

Not the kind of love people sometimes casually claim, but a deep, soul-aching love—the kind that made me cry for every animal that died in a movie, while my eyes remained dry for the human characters. Humans, I figured, were responsible for their own actions. Animals, however, were left entirely to the mercy of mankind. And that mercy, far too often, fell short.

As a child, you could call me an animal rights extremist—years before I even knew what that meant. I was just four years old when I saw four older boys throwing rocks at ducks in a pond. Without thinking, I ran up to them, screaming, kicking, pushing them away. They ran. The ducks lived another day. I didn’t see fear in the boys’ faces, just surprise—probably at how fierce such a small girl could be.

When I was six, on vacation in the south of France, I watched in horror as fishermen dumped live fish into buckets. Without a second thought, I walked behind them and emptied the buckets back into the sea. My father had to deal with the consequences, facing off with very angry French fishermen. But I didn’t care. I was saving lives.

Another vivid memory: visiting my grandparents in Spain. We went to a bustling local market, and there I saw live chickens crammed in cages. Buyers walked off with chickens dangling upside down by their feet, wings flapping in panic. I screamed. I shouted. I cried. My father and grandfather had to drag me away to keep me from causing chaos.

Then came the moment that truly scarred me, a memory I carry to this day. I was 11 years old, living in Israel. We took a trip to Egypt and visited a Bedouin family my father knew from his UN observer work. I wandered a little and found a sweet, gentle goat. I sat petting her, in love with her softness and peace. Suddenly, two men came, grabbed the goat, hung her upside down, and slit her throat in front of my eyes.

I ran—ran blindly into the desert until the UN truck picked me up. I still cry when I remember that day. The horror and heartbreak of seeing an innocent creature I loved suffer so violently is a trauma that’s never really left me.

Given all this, you’d probably expect me to be a vegetarian. But here’s where it gets complicated.

I’m a picky eater, and meat—ironically—is one of the few things I actually enjoy eating. I eat chicken, beef, and tuna. That’s it. And yes, it sounds terribly hypocritical when you consider the depths of my love for animals. When I look at packaged meat in the supermarket, I don’t see the animal. I see just… food.

I hated that about myself. It felt like a betrayal of everything I stood for.

But then I learned about kosher food, and something changed.

What Does Kosher Really Mean?

The Hebrew word “kosher” (כָּשֵׁר) means “fit,” and it refers to the dietary guidelines in the Torah. At first glance, it seems like a religious rulebook for eating: certain animals are allowed, others forbidden; meat and dairy must never mix; and everything must be certified as pure and clean.

But when I dug deeper, I discovered something beautiful. Something that finally gave peace to that part of me that had been in conflict for so long.

Kosher laws aren’t just about what to eat—they’re about how to eat with integrity.

Animals must be treated with kindness. The method of slaughter, called shechitah, is performed with precision and care to minimize suffering. Blood, considered the life force, is removed. Parts of the animal that might cause harm or suffering are not eaten. Every rule echoes respect for life—even as that life is taken.

And more importantly, kosher laws demand that animals live good lives before their end. They must be healthy. They must be cared for. There’s an unspoken understanding woven through these laws: life is sacred—even when we consume it.

That was the piece I’d been missing all these years.

Where Compassion Meets Tradition

Nature itself eats meat. Life feeds on life. Even plants, we now understand, have responses that hint at pain or distress. So the answer wasn’t necessarily never eating animals—it was how we eat them. Why we eat them. And with how much care.

To me, kosher is the most humane way to eat meat, a way that aligns with my love for animals, with my inner child who fought to protect ducks, fish, and goats. It bridges the divide between my values and my reality.

And with my deep love for Israel, I can only admire the ancient wisdom in Judaism’s practices. Long before modern animal rights movements emerged, kosher law was already teaching kindness, mindfulness, and respect for all living beings.

This same spirit shows up in other parts of Jewish life too—like the way the Israeli army, even in the most difficult situations, goes to great lengths to avoid harming civilians. There is a consistent thread: life matters. All life.

I’m still learning. Still trying to be better. Still carrying the weight of every animal I couldn’t save as a child. But I’ve found some peace, and a bit of redemption, in the ethics of kosher living.

It’s not about being perfect—it’s about trying to live with integrity, even in the most complicated areas of life.

And for the little girl who once emptied buckets of fish back into the sea, that means everything.