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CHANNUKAH 5783
What’s Your Chanukah Story?
Chanukah is the time for miracles. But how can we understand miracles in our technologically sophisticated age? Someone suggested that we imagine we were travelling, and our cell phone battery was on 10% and we misplaced our charger…and somehow, it lasted for 8 days! Now you can understand the miracle of Chanukah.
I have shared a variety of Chanukah stories with you over the years. What special Chanukah stories do you have to tell? To spark your memory, I’d like to share with you a unique story I once cut out from Parents Magazine. It’s not a story of miracles, but it has a special Chanukah message. It’s by Rina Friedman—a teacher in a Jewish Day School. She took her family out on the 1st night of Chanukah to one of their favorite kosher restaurants. Let me read her account of what happened:
We were shown to a table, and we waited, and waited, and waited. We waved at every waiter who went by, but they all said the same thing: “We’ll be with you in just a moment.” But nobody came to take their order. After about 25 minutes of waiting, the kids were getting cranky, and so were their parents.
I noticed that all the attention seemed to be at the other end of the restaurant, in the party room. “I’m going over there,” I finally said in exasperation. “I want to know why they are getting served and why they all seem to be having a good time while we have to sit here waiting...”
My husband tried to stop me. He said: “No, let’s just leave. Obviously, Chanukah is not a good night to go to a restaurant. We’ll come back some other time.”
I shook him off, and said: “No, I don’t want to go home, because, if we do, I will have to make dinner, and I am in no mood to do that. Let me at least go and check out what is going on in that party room. Maybe I can find a spare waiter there.”
With a sigh, he let me go. Years of experience had taught him that when his wife makes up her mind, there’s no point arguing with her. [Some of you who are here today may have learned this same truth. Rina continues:]
I walked to the other side of the room and what a sight I saw! There were balloons and dreidels and menorahs everywhere. There were at least 50 people sitting at the different tables. There was a big sign on the wall that said: “Happy Chanukah! We are here to celebrate the Miracle!” Next to the sign was a big card, which everyone had signed.
You could feel the happiness in the room. I thought: “I know Chanukah is supposed to be a happy holiday, but isn’t this a little much?”
I just stood there and forgot all about my hunger, my impatience, as I watched one guest after another go up to the couple who were sitting at the head table, hug and kiss them, and give them a present. As I watched this outpouring of love, a feeling of envy filled my heart. “You know, it’s not fair…I will never have Chanukah party like this one, with so many people present…I don’t have this many relatives, and if I did, I would not invite most of them to a party, because we don’t get along with each other. Sure, I have my husband and my children, but I would give anything to have a family gathering like this…Why her and not me?”
A wild impulse entered her mind: “Why not go over and wish this woman a happy Chanukah? I could pretend to be part of the group. She’ll never know.”
She walked over to the head table and said to the wife: “You don’t know me, but I see how lovely your party is. I just wanted to come over and wish you a happy Chanukah.”
The woman looked at her and smiled, but she could tell by the way I looked into her eyes that something was not quite right. She put her arm around my shoulders and led me to a quiet corner and said: “I saw you staring at our party, and I could tell that you must be wondering what’s going on. Maybe you even wished that this was your party. Isn’t that so?”
“How could she possibly know that?” I wondered. She could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“I want to explain to you what this party is about,” she said, “and then you will see that you have nothing to be envious about—nothing at all.”
I looked at her in disbelief and thought, “What do you mean: Nothing to envy??? All these presents piled up high? All these people who obviously loved this woman? What is she talking about? What does she mean: I have nothing to envy?”
“Do you know what this party is for?” the woman asked. “The reason all these people are here is because this is a very special Chanukah for me. The…doctors told me a few months ago that I would never live to see it...I have almost no family. The guests you see here are the nurses and doctors who saved me from my heart attack. Over there is my private nurse, whom I have to have with me at all times. And over there [she pointed to the head table] is my husband—my teenage sweetheart. There’s also a dietician at the table, to make sure that I only eat what is on my diet. No latkes for me this year, I’m afraid.”
“Another reason why my husband is giving this party is because I probably won’t make it to next Chanukah. But he does not know that I know this. He thinks it is a secret, and I let him think so, so that he’ll not be upset.
As she said this, she gave me a look—as if they were conspirators. “Do you have a family, my dear?” she asked. Speechless, I raised a shaky finger and pointed to my husband and children.
“They look so sweet, so young, and so healthy. You see, my dear, you are so lucky. I hope that you know that.” And with that, the woman squeezed her hand, gave her a smile, straightened her shoulders, put on a smile, and made her way back to her party.
I just stood there with my eyes flowing with tears, and so embarrassed! How could I have forgotten what was really important and what was not? I had my health, a good family, a good home. And yet I was angry because the service in the restaurant was slow? I was envious because I thought that this woman had a bigger family than I did? I came back to my table a much wiser woman than when I left.
“What happened to you, darling?” her husband said. “I still have not been able to get anyone to serve us.”
“That’s alright,” she said. “No rush. It’s Chanukah. It’s a time for families to be together. The rest doesn’t matter.”
“You’re right,” her husband said, and he took her hand.
I looked at him with new love, then looked at my children. “Having them in my life is such a miracle. I’m truly blessed. Happy Chanukah, everybody,” she said. “Happy Chanukah.”
That’s the story from Parents’ Magazine. What does it mean? To me it means 2 things: 1st, as we already know, and as my grandparents would say, abi gezunt (be healthy). If we have our health, what else matters? The problems in the office will still be there tomorrow. When you’re with your family—especially on Chanukah—put them aside. What we should wear to the upcoming wedding, or what present we should bring—these are problems? They’ll work themselves out, and in the long run they don’t really matter.
And secondly, if we have love in our hearts for family and friends…what else matters? So many of the things that bother us—that fill our hearts with anger and aggravation—don’t really matter.
The story of Chanukah is the miracle of the battle of a few Jews against the much greater forces of the Syrian Greeks. But we don’t celebrate the miracle of the fight, we celebrate the miracle of the light—how light prevailed over darkness, how the Chanukah lights filled the Temple—Gd’s home—with light for 8 days. If we allow the Chanukah lights in our homes to shine upon us and teach us this lesson of what’s truly important, then our lives will be a blessing—and who knows, we just might then have quite a story to tell. Amen!
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