If you could enter a time machine and travel through Edith Stein’s life, you would see many versions of her as time passed. In 1893, you would see a tearful two-year-old standing at her father’s funeral. Two years later, you would see a spunky four-year-old playing with her cousins in the family lumberyard. In subsequent years, you would see a sensitive child immersed in the Jewish faith and a questioning teenager who had set aside Judaism, determined to rely on herself.