Even in
Phoenix the evenings can get chilly during Chanukah and I was cold as we stood
by the huge menorah at the city hall plaza. The Chabad rabbi lit the candles
with a torch while a handful of Jews and dozens of vagrants looked on. There
were some holiday songs and then volunteers handed out warm potato latkes to
all. That’s why the vagrants were there, free food. One of them, obviously more
than slightly inebriated, stood to the left of me waiting for his handout. This
man was twice my width and a good head and a half taller than me. His breath
stank of alcohol and he began swaying slightly. As he swayed farther and
farther to the right I envisioned him collapsing on top of me. There was no escape so I quickly I gave him a shove to the left, stabling him, and then
grabbed my husband.
“It’s time
to go!” I announced. He didn’t challenge my judgment. Rather he helped round up
our children and we headed home for hot baths and bowls of soups.
What had I
been doing in downtown Phoenix in the first place? The answer was simple. I
wanted to give our children a healthy dose of Jewish pride to counteract all
the Xmas carols, decorations, and advertisements.
I guess it
was that desire for Jewish pride that makes so many American Jews turn Chanukah
into a major holiday from the minor one it’s supposed to be. In my home my
mother always strung dreidyls, menorahs, and six-pointed stars
from the light fixtures and windows inside the house. Not usually one to bake
she would take out the flour and sugar every winter and bake sugar cookies. Hers
weren’t shaped liked trees or Santas, but rather, again in the forms of the dreidyls,
menorahs, and six-pointed stars.
And then there were the presents. My mother loved giving gifts and as
Chanukah drew near she scurried through the stores. There were presents for my
father and presents for all of my cousins, and eight presents for me, one for
each night of Chanukah. Those combined
with all the gifts my aunts and uncles gave me meant that I made out just as
good, if not better, than my non-Jewish friends every December.
When I was in
7th grade I overheard someone say, “Chanukah is just like Xmas
except it’s for Jews.”
I’d been
standing in the cafeteria line and it was a Jewish girl, a year older than me,
new to Wichita, who had made that statement. I was appalled. I wondered if her
family even lit a menorah. That was the focus of Chanukah, not the
decorations, cookies and presents. Didn’t she know that it was a holiday to
commemorate the triumph of the weak over the strong, the few over the many, the
pure over the impure, the righteous over the wicked, and the Torah learners
over the willful sinners. Chanukah was a holiday that affirmed that we were
Jewish and different.
Eavesdropping
on that girl made me think about my own Chanukah celebration. At some point I
decided I didn’t want it to be in competition with Xmas. Once married my
husband and I made a conscious decision not to give presents for the holiday.
Instead of putting up Chanukah decorations we proudly placed our menorahs on
the windowsill. The sages taught us that in order to celebrate Chanukah
properly we need to publicize HaShem’s miracle for all to see.
While our lights
shone we always tried to sing Chanukah songs, speak words of Torah, and tell
stories. We made special foods, invited guests, and went to Chanukah parties.
That’s how we ended up in downtown Phoenix celebrating Chanukah with a bunch of
non-Jewish drunks.
The
following year, though, we moved to Israel. Now we still try to make each day
of Chanukah special but we don’t give a thought to competing with Xmas. Our
Jewish pride comes from living in a Jewish country and following the Jewish laws of the Torah, both given to us by HaShem.
2 comments:
I do remember our Channuka celebrations. My Dad used to give me a silver dollar or $2 bill. I loved that little gift as much as anything else I got. I secretly laughed at the Jews who called that decorated tree their Channuka bush. It is a little holiday, but still a good day to show Jewish pride and remind the world we will always be here and we always come back in the end!
Love, Esther
lovely article, ester.
and, soooo true!
love, ariela
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