Nu vus iz Chaneke (so what’s the big deal about Chanukah?)

Memories of Chanukah, Past, Present and Future

Welcome to our Chanukah celebration. The temperature outside is well below zero, and snow which had begun to accumulate since the end of October in the Canadian prairies has become impassable hills, except where paths had been cleared by the prodigious shovelling of homeowners. Only the twinkling multicolored lights surrounding picture windows, and decorated Christmas trees proudly displayed at front windows provide the light for the long dark nights of winter.

Mum will be in the kitchen grating massive russet potatoes mixed with a bit of flour and onions and placing them into a fry pan of sizzling corn oil. In our small town there was no olive oil to be had, either because we had a negligible population of Italians and Greeks, or because the sophistication of olive oil had yet to reach the prairies. Hot off the griddle they would soon be smothered with smetene ( sour cream) or apple sauce.

A small simple Chanukiah purchased at the synagogue sisterhood shop will be placed on the kitchen table and it will be my job to put the multi-colored candles into their correct holders. A turquoise with the iconic Boris Schatz Chanukiah printed on one side, the other “ Maoz Tzur” is printed in English and purchased at our local butcher. Who knew that those candles of 85 years were a classic!

After our festive meal,, I receive my ” Chanuke gelt” of $1.00, which in today’s terms, is about ten dollars, enough to buy a simple toy, but definitely nothing extravagant. To quote my mother,

“ Nu, Vus iz Chanukeh? Mi macht a pur latkes, und mi git de kinder a pur groschen! Dus is alles! Nisht kein groise yontif! ( So what’s the big deal about Chanukah? You make a few latkes, and you give the kids a few cents, and that is it! It’s not a big holiday)

I am living the Chanukah of an impoverished pre-war Jewish family of Poland that has been transported fifty years forward and across more than forty six hundred miles- quite a feat, except for the recipients. Surrounded by homes decorated with sparkling lights, inundated with the endless repertoire of Christmas songs drummed into my head which could be retrieved at a moment’s notice, and surrounded by advertisements of toys, games, and fancy clothes which were beyond my imagination, the idea that in my home, I was able to replicate a modest and authentic Chanukah bore neither pride, nor joy.

Our day school tries to fight the overwhelming tides of Christmas by putting on a performance. Each grade presents a skit, or a song, having to do with the Maccabees or with lighting the Menorah. But for me, the climax of the concert is the Nielson Milk Chocolate Bar, or a box of Smarties. Either one is a well appreciated treat, and devoured by the time we reached our home.

But, the real Chanukah celebration happens at school the next day, after the first candle. It is here that my classmates show off their presents. Note, not present, but the plural thereof. Oftentimes it is games, or it might be toys. A few of my classmates will also parade five and ten dollar bills that they have received. Smiles abound, with comments such as “ Wow!” and “Terrific!”, while inwardly, the measely dollar that my parents had scrounged together from their savings was irrelevant and unworthy.

I am not sure what possessed me that one year. Was it the cold? Was it just being miserable? Or was it that I wanted my parents to know the envy that had embodied my ten year old spirit. But there it was, I came in and told Mum after school that day,

“ Guess what Harry got for Chanukah? He got… and … and …”. I immediately regretted every word that came out of my mouth. My mother’s sweet chocolate almond shaped eyes began to slowly drip tears. It took her a couple of minutes to compose herself and then she replied, in a deep and sorrowful tone,

“ You should know, Harry’s father is a doctor. He went to university, and now he makes a lot of money. And, Harry has grandparents, two sets of them. And you , my darling, have no one except us- Mame and Tate. You have no grandparents, no aunts, no uncles. All of them were murdered. Your father is a very smart man, but he never had the opportunity to go to university. He works very hard to provide for you. And so, this is the reason you have no gifts for Chanukah. When I was a little girl, all I received for Chanukah was a few cents, just enough to buy a bit of candy. Although I had two sets of grandparents, aunts and uncles, we were all poor, and so, they had nothing to give me. Be thankful for what you have received.”

I walked away from my mother with my head down, and went to my room. I heard her cry quietly and now I was sadder than I had been at school.

The second night of Chanukah, once again we lit candles, the whiff of fried potatoes and onions once more filled the kitchen . Afterwards, I went to my room to find a teddy bear with a soft brown body and white paws , a bright red ribbon around its neck, and a supercilious smile on its face. It was neither the latest game that all my classmates bragged about, nor was it the latest set of expensive artistic crayons and inks. Mine was more precious.

SEVEN BRIDES FOR SEVEN BROTHERS- EQUALS- EIGHT PRESENTS FOR EIGHT DAY

I have left the frozen tundra and bitter cold of Canada for the sunny climes of southern California, my first foray into the United States. Chanukah is upon us once more. But, something is out of sorts. Palm trees line the streets, and the sun beats down brightly upon us. Darkness does not come till 5:00 in the evening. In this setting Christmas lights, and Christmas trees seem completely incongruous. I am at the stove, now grating Idaho potatoes, something new for a Canadian born gal, and making Chanukah latkes for my family. In a new gesture , we have placed a cheap card table at the front of our picture window that looks onto the street. There are three Chanukiot, one simple, the other two, school projects made from a variety of materials, and painted helter skelter. After eating the latkes, we give each of the kids $5.00, which is just enough to buy some junky little toys and games at the nearby “ Dollar Store”. Grandparents have sent cards which contain ten dollar bills, too much for young children to handle, and we will have to decide what to do with those gifts. But we feel blessed that our children have grandparents who can shower them with Chanukah gelt.

The next day, my young son returns from school with the following report, “ Do you know Ema, that Yossi is going to receive a Chanukah gift every single night of Chanukah?… And so will Sara? And Tzvi… and …”

“Oh, “ I replied. I am dumbfounded. From whence has this Mesorah ( tradition) come down? And then after some subtle investigation, yes, there has been a new tradition added to our Chanukah celebration. A gift for every candle lit? Ah! The Jewish counter, the checkmate, to Christmas stockings and boxes under the Christmas tree.

It took some time to decide how I would respond.

“ We only give Chanukah gelt on the first candle lit. And that is it. That is our Mesorah. That is how we did. That is how both Bubbies and Zaidies did it in Poland, and their parents before them. Sorry… there will be no Chanukah gifts every night. You got such lovely gifts from Abba and me, and from both your Bubbies and Zaidies. How lucky are you!”

Not sure how that went down in the midst of the affluence of southern California Jewry, surrounded by Christmas delights, stores and sales everywhere, but we held on.

WE HAVE FINALLY ARRIVED!

Mum and Dad have worked tirelessly and been rewarded for their efforts. Chanukah is now spent on Waikiki Beach in Hawaii.( Think Miami, for Jews of Western Canada and the western US) Here in Hawaii, Santa Claus does not approach on a sleigh driven by reindeer on the Arctic Circle route. Here, he approaches on an outrigger, a Hawaiian style kayak. Even more than southern California, Christmas seems a universe away, amidst the quiet ocean breezes, and the swaying of palm trees to quiet twangs of Hawaiian ukuleles. Here the night approaches as it should, at six o’clock in the evening, after a full day of bright sunshine and hot temperatures. Mum and Dad are relieved to no longer struggle with the almost perpetual darkness of winter, bitterly cold temperatures and endless snow.

They mingle on a daily basis with the other Holocaust survivors. Like them, the gantze chevre (the whole gang) have also scrimped and saved and finally have the opportunity to relax. The bitter memories of the Shoah rest in the nether parts of their minds tonight as they breath the warm tropical air, and relax to the sway of the Pacific waves.

“ Nu.. Mi Gait tzim Chaneke lechten?” ( so are we going to the lighting of the Chanukah menorah?)

The entire group trundled onto “ The Free Bus” and gather in Honolulu Center for the lighting of a massive Chanukah menorah erected by Chabad Lubavitch. Not only are they full of pride at being able to stand in public, unencumbered , and unashamed, at the sight of the Menorah at the State capital, but , on this first night, who will light the Chanukiah? The Governor of Hawaii- a Jewish woman- Linda Lingle! They smile, they laugh, and they sing along with the Lubavitch Rabbi. .

“ Nu? Ver kimt tzu mir? Ich gei latkes machen! ( So who is coming over to my place? I am making latkes!) A few follow my mother and father to their miniscule apartment, where my mother is once again grating potatoes and onions, ready to drop them into hot oil. Mum is full of energy and joy as she repeats the events she witnessed- the large crowd surrounding the lighting, the public display of Jewish pride, and Jewish Governor. Yes! We have finally arrived.

WE ARE ALL MACCABEES- YEAR 2

It is the second Chanukah where the fate of our Chatufim ( hostages) is unknown. Every family, every friend, has someone who is in Gaza, or Lebanon, or the West Bank, is going into service, or just coming out of service. Missiles continue to fly from a country ruled by half starved, naked, and crazy radicalized peasants whose time would be better spent eating, sleeping, and getting some decent clothes rather than doing the bidding of Iran.

Our brothers and sisters in the Diaspora do not fare much better. Synagogues remain protected fortresses rather than modern day Abrahamic tents open at all sides and welcoming all. Instead, together with Jewish Day Schools they must rely on armed security. Anti-Israel rallies continue relentlessly, and, although the abysmal behavior on campuses in the United States has been somewhat abated, the freedom, the exuberance, and the sheer joy for young Jewish students has been replaced with an overriding sense of caution and wariness.

In Israel, this Chanukah we remain determined, utterly proud, and especially thankful for the sacrifice made by our valiant soldiers here in Israel. . Chabad Lubavitch, our proud representatives abroad, continue with defiance to light huge Menorahs all over the world- -Philadelphia,Saudi Arabia, the South Pole, New York City ,Berlin ,Gaza ,Amsterdam, Washington DC ,Kyiv, Munich and more.

I think about my parents standing before the Menorah lit in Hawaii in better times. The events of October 7, 2023 would have caused them to shudder, as memories of Nazis, and the murder of their loved ones intentionally pushed back in the recesses of their mind would have come flooding back. And here we are, one year later, and despite the immeasurable losses that we must bear, we can say with pride and joy that we have defeated so many of our enemies. And yet the fight goes on, both here in Israel, and for every Jew in the Diaspora.

In Israel, I continue to grate the potatoes mixed with chopped onions and a bit of gluten free flour, and throw them into virgin olive oil, as did my mother, and as did my grandmothers before me. I continue to give my children and grandchildren some Chanuka gelt… but only on the first night, the first light.

And, I can repeat what they said, but, with a different intonation, and with a different conclusion.

“Nu Vus Iz Chaneke?” So what is the big deal about Chanuka? It’s not about the latkes, it’s not about the Chanukah gelt, it’s not about the gorgeous and amazing beautiful Sufganiot. It’s about us- determination, defiance, continuity, and joy of being a proud Jew both here in Israel, and everywhere in the world- and THAT’s a big deal.