Carol J. Wechsler Blatter has contributed writings to Chaleur Press, Story Circle Network Journal, Writing it Real anthologies, Jewish Writing Project, Jewish Literary Journal, New Millenium Writings, poems to Story Circle Network’s Real Women Write and Covenant of the Generations. She is a wife, mother, and grandmother, and a recently retired psychotherapist.
It’s December. It’s a time when snow and ice typically cover streets and sidewalks. Colored lights appear on many houses. Santa Claus and reindeer decorate many snow-covered lawns. Indoors, many homes have trees that are lit up at night, often with angels on top and shiny balls of various colors hanging from branches on them. It’s different for Jews. You’ll recognize Jewish homes when you see menorahs lit with little flames shining through their windows during the Chanukah holiday.
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Some of the rest of us celebrate the Jewish holiday, Chanukah. It’s the Festival of Lights. Sometimes it is celebrated around the time of Christmas but it has no connection to Christmas. The dates of celebration differ each year because Jews follow a lunar calendar. On Chanukah, an eight-day holiday, we light candles each night in our menorahs placing each candle in its place, and adding one each night until all eight candles are lit. There is one special candle, the shamash, like an attendant, that sits on the top of the menorah and lights all the other candles. We have several menorahs. One in brass. One in silver metal. One in limestone. This holiday celebrates our freedom to pray as Jews because the Maccabees, a priestly family of Jews, successfully fought the Seleucids, Greeks who tried to eliminate our religious practices. Afterward, Jews rededicated the Temple which the Greeks had desecrated. The name Chanukah (or Hanukkah or Hanukah) means dedication. All spellings are correct.
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Sometimes Jewish children envy their Christian friends who are inundated with gifts at this holiday time. Sometimes Jewish children do not understand the different meanings of these holidays. Jewish parents have the task of helping their children understand what is important about this observance. Some Jewish families give gifts to their children every night of Chanukah. I never grew up with this custom. Chanukah gelt, gelt is a Yiddish word for money, was given to me by my grandparents and parents. Handfuls of pennies were typical gifts in my childhood. In recent years gold colored chocolate faux coins are given along with gelt. We give our granddaughter one large gift each year. This year it will be a Nintendo game called Ooblets which she requested. Far from pennies given to me in my childhood on this holiday, and absent computers then, this is an expensive and sophisticated computer game. What are grandparents for anyway? To enjoy and indulge our grandchildren.
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The preparations for Chanukah begin. Our Chanukah menorah’s candles are ready to be lit, each candle is of a different color. Our granddaughter is playing dreidel (a spinning top) on the bridge table with grandpa. She hates to lose. She gets upset when grandpa wins. I hear her protesting the rules, you cheated, Grandpa. I saw you.
Of course, she is delighted when she wins. She claps. She jumps up and down.
I’m better at the dreidel game than you, Grandpa! Grandpa, don’t forget I want to sing the dreidel song.
Ok. Sure. You’ll sing it tonight.
Grandpa, can you show me the picture again when you were a boy celebrating Chanukah? I remember the picture of you wearing those funny clothes. And there was a picture of grandma making latkes. Can you find it?
I’ll try.
Grandpa takes out the photo album and they spend some time together looking at the photos. She points to one photo, one when she was much younger, maybe two or three.
Grandpa, I can’t believe I was so little.
You were. You were very cute just like now. What a pretty dress you were wearing for the holiday! And black tights to keep you warm.
Grandpa, do you like my dress? I picked it out. I love these ruffles and the puffy sleeves.
Yes, it’s beautiful. You look so pretty.
And I’m in the kitchen hearing her giggle as she looks at the family photos. I am wearing a long apron to keep the oil flying from the frying pan away from my clothes. I fry these potato pancakes, in Yiddish called latkes, in lots of oil that make continuous sizzling sounds. And the pleasing smell of these pancakes emanates throughout the house. As these latkes fry, the excitement of the celebration of Chanukah builds.
Our granddaughter comes into the kitchen.
Grandma, those latkes smell so good. Can I have one?
Yes, of course.
Can I have applesauce with it?
Yes, certainly.
I don’t like sour cream so I won’t take that.
She eats with delight.
Grandma, this is so good. Can I have another one?
No, you’ll spoil your appetite for dinner.
I want another one.
I told you, no. That’s final.
She stomps out of the room.
I heard her say in a stage whisper, you’re so mean grandma.
Come here, our daughter said. I heard you. Apologize to grandma. Now.
I’m sorry, grandma.
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Making pancakes is a big deal. Our daughter helps me peel and slice the white potatoes, peel and slice the sweet potatoes, peel and slice the carrots, dice the onions, add a little garlic powder and pepper, and put it all into the blender. This is the modern way of making these pancakes. My grandmother grated all these ingredients by hand. It’s hard to imagine anyone making pancakes that way while still enjoying the holiday.
Our guests arrive. We sit down together as we light the menorahs, one from each family. It is the first night of Chanukah so we light one candle plus one for the shamash.
My husband recites the blessing:
Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of all, who has kept us alive, sustained us, and brought us to this season.
Then we sing holiday songs. Our granddaughter is the first to sing.
Well I have a little dreidel
I made it out of clay
and when it’s dry and ready
Then dreidel I shall play.
Lots of applause from everyone. Our granddaughter beams. Grandpa takes a photo of her.
After a few more songs we eat. Our menu includes latkes with sides of applesauce and sour cream, a green salad with vinegar and olive oil dressing accompanied by slices of warm French bread, vegetable soup, a combination of tuna and egg salads, and various kinds of cheeses and crackers. For dessert, I serve a variety of cookies and fresh fruit. And sufganiyot.
For this holiday some Jews offer an alternative to latkes, sufganiyot, which we call jelly donuts. Like latkes, sufganiyot are fried with lots of oil. Oil is symbolic. One understanding is that oil was needed to renew and purify the desecrated second Temple by the Greeks. With only one flask of pure oil, it would have been impossible to light the menorah. In a miraculous way, one flask of pure oil lasted eight days. And the menorah was lit. This also explains why Chanukah is an eight-day holiday.
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I remember when our young daughter placed our menorah near our kitchen window during this holiday so others could see its radiating lights. Now our granddaughter places the menorah near the window as the bright little lights linger. We hand down holiday traditions from generation to generation.
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Chanukah lights burn quickly. They have very short lives. Like these candles, my time in life is getting shorter with each day. I’m eighty. I’ve already lived most of the years of my life. I pray that I will live long enough to see our granddaughter grow up, graduate from high school, and be there as she leaves for college. I will give her a menorah and candles to put in her suitcase.
