There is something powerful about bringing light into
darkness.
When I was growing
up in Jerusalem, Hanukah held special charms for me. My family was not
religious, and Hanukah is “religion-light” in that all work is permitted and
there is little by way of ritual, save the nightly lighting of candles.
And so it was less
of an exterior event, and more of an interior one. Hanukah happened at home. This
suited me and mine just fine. In Israel at that time there was nary a hint of
the competition with Christmas, so ubiquitous in the USA.
When my kids were
little we had a yearly Hanukah party, and shamelessly did compensate for our
no-Christmas home with presents and decorations I never saw in my own childhood
in Israel.
But I returned to
my roots. Hanukah is no more party-time, or presents time, or any other
whoopty-doo time. Hanukah is, once again, the smell of frying latkes and most
of all, candles. If nothing else, the pandemic returned all of us home, and
reminded us how this is our anchor.
A slight
modification (because my roaming ever-curious cats will surely burn their
whiskers) requires strategic placing of the menorah. We don’t get to put it in
the widow, as is customary. But candles it is.
Their charm is
undeniable.
“...One for each night
They shed a sweet light
To remind us for days long ago.”
From Hanukah Oh Hanukah
{Last year’s 8th
night^. Hanukah this year begins the evening of Thursday, December 10 and ends
the evening of Friday, December 18}
