This Rosh Hashanah, my thoughts kept returning to a single story. It’s the story of a soul, newly arrived at the gates of Heaven And while I’m not sure I believe in a literal heaven, with an actual gate where angels stand guard, a story doesn’t have to be factual to be true.

So a woman arrives at the gates of Heaven. She is small of stature, but she stands tall before the imposing gates. A simple black robe hangs from her shoulders, and a lacy white collar adorns her neck. In her eyes, there is a gleam of steely determination.

In most stories, this is when the angels would stop her. They would ask her to prove she deserves a place in Heaven. But in this story, the angels step aside.

At once, the angels open the gates to this woman of valor, this justice who has more than lived up to her title. She has clearly earned her place among the truly righteous.

In this story, it is the woman who refuses to step forward, who instead demands in a calm and measured voice that she be allowed to speak to their boss, the Divine Judge who sits in Heaven.

“But there’s nothing to argue,” the angels say. “You spent your life fighting for the rights of the marginalized. Through grief and through pain, you never failed to show up when you were needed. Now is your chance to enjoy your earned reward. Now is your chance to finally rest.”

And still, she stands there and refuses to move, and her glare makes them tremble to the very tips of their wings. “No,” she says. “I’m not done fighting.”

“You can’t go back,” the angels tell her. “We delayed your death as long as we could, to the very last hours of the year. But you weren’t written in the Book of Life, and that was all the time we could give you.”

And still, she insists on speaking to God.

“God’s busy,” the angels answer. “It’s the eve of Rosh Hashanah, and the fate of every living soul hangs in the balance.”

But her glare only deepens. Her lips press together into a firm, determined line. “That’s why we need to have a conversation. One judge to another.”

And in the end, the angels relent. They bring her to God, and there she stands, just as confidently as she stood before the angels. And she demands to see God’s book, and God allows this.

She reads the book carefully, every single word. And when she is finished, she returns to the beginning. One page at a time, one paragraph, one line, and she points to the parts she knows are wrong. Each time, she announces, “I dissent.” And then, each time, she argues her case.

And what does God do? God listens. As the angels watch in utter disbelief, God erases and rewrites. God shows her the corrections. Erases again when she shakes her head. Rewrites until she grants her approval with a single decisive nod.

For ten nights and ten days, she remains at God’s side, reading every word, and judging every decree. And it is only when God has sealed the book that she finally allows the angels to escort her into Heaven.

And when, later on, the angels ask why, God is ready with an answer. “Because this woman is as righteous as she is wise, and if she can no longer argue in the Earthly Courts, then let her argue her case in the Court of Heaven.”

May the memory of Ruth Bader Ginsburg be for a blessing.