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Miracle of the Dreidels
| Article
# : |
17171 |
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Section : |
LIFE
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| Issue
Date : |
12 / 1990 |
1,183 Words |
| Author
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Stephen Richman
Stephen Richman, formerly a newspaper columnist, continues to
write from his home in Alexandria, Virginia. |
Being Jewish during the holidays made me the envy of many of my Gentile friends when I was growing up in Arizona. How wonderful it was to have eight days of gift giving during Hanukkah rather than the one day of Christmas. Each year I joined my Christian friends as they opened presents played with the train under the tree, and listened to stories about Santa and Rudolph. My playmates were mystified by the candles my family lit for eight nights; their eyes rolled each time another gift was given after a lighting.
Each year my parents would tell us about Hanukkah and two miracles that happened so long ago. The most important miracle was the independence won by the Jewish guerrilla fighters; the other, more mystifying, was the vessel of olive oil that had only enough fuel for one day of light but kept the eternal flame burning for eight full days and nights.
The stories of miracles from thousands of years ago were exciting, but something was always missing. My school friends wished that they could have my eight days of gift giving; I wanted to see a modern-day miracle. At school there was talk of Christmas in the air, good deeds being done, holiday wishes that were fulfilled by nameless, good-hearted individuals who left baskets on your doorstep. I wanted to have miracle story of my own to tell.
The holiday season of 1989 was to be a season of new happening for me. Many years had passed. I was thirty-nine and had only been in the Washington, D.C., area for about a year. Snow had fallen, more than I had seen in a lifetime in Phoenix. I watched children trying their sleds on hills and skating near the Mall. My wishes for a holiday miracle had
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