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     When I was a little girl, we always lit the menorah, sang songs and got very small gifts. My mother explained each and every year, that contrary to some people’s misconceptions, Chanukah was not the “Jewish Christmas” and had nothing to do with Christmas.  This was stated in a stern voice and was usually in response to my whining about wanting our house to be decorated with colorful lights, as were many on our street. We did sometimes walk around the neighborhood after dark to admire the elaborate Christmas displays.  Unlike some of my Jewish friends whose families made a habit of competing with Christian neighbors by bestowing many large, expensive gifts on their children and by putting a Christmasy spin on their Chanukah festivities, my mother kept the holiday tone modest and said it wasn’t the Jewish custom to do otherwise.  She felt it important for us to know the story behind the holiday, though in most other respects, she was a woman who carried on traditions out of habit and in deference to her parents, rather than out of a desire or need to understand the reasons and origins behind the customs.  Chanukah was an exception.

     I think the reason for her emphasis on the Chanukah story was that in the 50’s and early 60’s the public schools didn’t pay much attention to Jewish holidays.  We lived in New York City and to some degree in a melting pot of a neighborhood, but with a large Jewish population.  Still, in December there were always programs at school that were focused on Christmas and very little was said or done about Chanukah.  In those days nobody ever mentioned Hindu, Buddhist, Moslem or any other religious holidays.  Jewish kids got to skip school on important days of worship (Chanukah is not considered this type of holiday) and Catholic kids went to religious instruction on Wednesdays and got out of school an hour early.  We learned and performed Christmas songs and the classrooms were decked out in red and green. Sometimes a teacher would lead the class in “I Have a Little Dreidel” with young students, but that was about it.

     When Christmas and Chanukah fell at around the same time in December, I remember  getting together with friends on our street (New York City kids played outside regardless of the weather).  I listened with amazement at the bounty received by the non-Jewish kids.  When they inquired about what I had gotten for Chanukah, I would mumble my response with some embarrassment.  “Oh, some chocolate coins, a couple of dollars, a storybook about Judah Maccabee and a scarf made by my grandmother”.  I would be invited to Angela’s house to play with her new puppy, her huge walking doll, an assortment of new board games, several beautiful new dresses and a portable TV for her room. This is the famed Angela who once paid me $1 to go to confession in her stead and who taught me what to say.  I always did like to challenge accepted norms and rules and so did Angela, but our mothers would have had heart attacks if they had known what we were up to!

     My note-comparing with my friends led to complaining to my mother and to a lecture by her, presented with renewed fervor and drama about why Chanukah and Christmas were not the same and were not supposed to be and how Americans had adopted practices that had nothing to do with our religion.  In later years I would learn that many Christian friends of mine also did not believe in the pagan and/or commercial trappings of the American Christmas.

   In our house we did not get one gift for each night as some families did. We got one or two small, practical gifts and gelt (money), both real coins and chocolate ones.  Someone always read Sholem Aleichem’s story, “Chanukah Gelt” which I read to my kids when they were small and still read each year today, though I can’t always find someone willing to listen.  My Zayde (Grandfather) gave me a book of stories about the Jewish Tom Thumb, K’Tonton and for years after I got this, I enjoyed the tales of the mischievous, tiny little boy. I loved reading it and looking at the colorful pictures of the devilish child who thought of more ways to get into trouble than I ever could and I was a pretty good mischief maker, myself.  There were always latkes (fried potato pancakes) and special cookies and we put an electric menorah in the window, as well as lighting the silver Chanukiyah.

     At some point during the 8 days we went to my Bubbe and Zayde’s (Grandparents) home. There we got more latkes and sweets and Zayde always told us the story of the Maccabees and why we celebrate Chanukah for 8 nights and days.  He always gave Jewish children’s music, recorded stories or Jewish books as gifts to the children and of course, more gelt.

     The highlight of the holiday was a huge family party at Tante Clara’s apartment.   She was my grandmother’s older sister..  She lived in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn in a double apartment. Years before, they had knocked out a wall and created an 8 room residence..  She and her late husband were probably the only people in our family who had any money and their home seemed so beautiful and special, with pretty furniture and lots of polished silver pieces everywhere you looked. Uncle had died many years before and I didn’t remember him, but I never forgot the wonderful parties. All of the aunts, uncles and cousins on my mother’s side attended, and there I saw second, third and fourth cousins.  There were lovely oriental rugs and a huge grand piano. Someone always played Chanukah songs. Children ran everywhere, laughing, crying and screaming, but for the most part everyone behaved well and there were never fights or tantrums that I can remember. They just weren’t tolerated. As a child you had to make the rounds of the relatives, presenting yourself to each one for a hug, a kiss, a pinch on the cheeks and an exclamation about how much you had grown. It was hard to remember who all of the relatives were.  Some seemed ancient. Some wore odd clothes and had names that were funny to us like Golda, Blumetta, Isidore, Chaim-Yankel, Braineh, Schmuley, etc.

     Then came the main event of the day. They had a maid, which was amazing to me.  (I told you they were wealthy) and she entered the living room with platters of steaming latkes.  There was a huge buffet table with all sorts of meats, salads, latkes and desserts.  As a little girl, I really didn’t like to eat much, but  who could resist the goodies that Tante Clara put out?  My eyes were always bigger than my stomach and I piled my plate high, only to get the “look from my mother”, silently telling me to watch my manners and not to be a pig.

     Then we had the grab bags for the children. Everyone was asked to bring a wrapped gift and to label it with the age for which the gift was appropriate.. There were several grab bags for the different age groups, from babies on up to teenagers.  We were usually pleased with our gifts and I remember going home full, happy and most important of all,   feeling warm and safe, snuggled between my parents in the car.

     Those are my memories of Chanukah.  What do you remember about the holidays in your past?  Do you have mostly positive recollections, or ones that are painful?  If they are painful, what have you done to make peace with them?  If the pain has lingered, can you think of a way to say a final goodbye and to make changes in your beliefs, or in your lingering “automatic negative thoughts”?   How about holidays during your adolescence?  Were there things you learned about yourself and/or about your family that you carried with you to adulthood?  If you have a family of your own, how have the things you experienced or learned in your youth had an influence on what you do or don’t do with your own children or grandchildren?   Would you like to share any special memories?  What is the most important story of your past that has shaped who you are? Is the story complete?  Do you need to finish it? If you think it is complete, what if you had an opportunity to re-write it and to create additional chapters in the future? What might they include? 

        Let’s hear from you!  I would be pleased to publish your story on my blog if you ask me to!

       Happy Holidays to all!