Yom Kippur is that holiest of Jewish Holy Days when Jews atone for their sins. Usually I take the day off from work—arguably a sin in itself, because I’m not sure how Jewish I really am. I wasn’t raised as a Jew. I rarely go to temple. And my attempts to fast usually end at 11:00 a.m. with a cappuccino and biscotti. I didn’t even know I was Jewish until I was well into my 20s, when my mother, Ruth, shared with me the stories of how she had come to learn, also as grown woman, that she was Jewish.