First Person is a daily personal piece submitted by readers. Have a story to tell? See our guidelines at tgam.ca/essayguide. Open this photo in gallery: Illustration by Mary Kirkpatrick My mother never relished cooking. She wasn’t the kind to be found in an apron rolling out dough or much in the kitchen at all. But, each fall, when the air turned crisp and scented with apples, the recipe books came out in anticipation of the Jewish New Year. The spirit of a fresh start animated the house, and she’d buy us new shoes and outfits for synagogue and school. The...