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  My, it was good! All crispy, crunchy outside, all tasty, chewy on the inside! It disappeared too quickly in the mouth, rushed down to the tummy, leaving them with a craving for more. Mama knew she’d have to keep careful watch, or there’d be none left for supper.

  “Here comes Papa, now.”

  “Just in time, I see,” Papa said, as he caught a whiff of the appetizing odor.

  Papa was gay, laughing and joking with the children as he washed up. Tonight the whole family was gay. It was the time for gladsomeness. It was the first night of Hanukkah—Festival of Lights—the happy holiday right in the midst of December’s bleakness. Jews everywhere celebrate Hanukkah with song, games, and parties, and the giving of gifts and money.

  Ella had polished the brass Menorah till it shone like a mirror. It had been placed on the top shelf of the whatnot, its eight little holders all in a row ready to receive the slim, golden yellow candles Papa had bought especially. In the middle, set up high above the others, was the shamosh (sexton) candle. Its flame would be used to kindle all the others.

  The children grouped themselves around Papa as Mama lifted Charlie onto a chair. Papa placed a candle in the first holder of the Menorah. Then, holding the lighted shamosh, he turned to Charlie. “Would you like to light it?” he asked.

  Charlie jumped up and down. “Yes, yes! Charlie wanna light the candle!” he cried, his little hands reaching out eagerly.

  Papa’s firm hand guided his son’s towards the wick of candle number one. Bright and shining, it sprang to light, matching the glow on Charlie’s face.

  Papa’s voice was deep and reverent. “Praised be Thou, O Lord our God, Ruler of the Universe, who has commanded us to kindle the Lights of Hanukkah.”

  Over two thousand years ago, Antiochus, King of Syria, sent forth a mighty army into Palestine, to force the Jews to give up their religion. It was forbidden to hold services in the Temple of Jerusalem, and God’s house itself was turned into a Greek Temple. The Jews who refused to submit were destroyed. They were the first religious martyrs known to history.

  There rose up a strong and courageous man; Judas Maccabeus was his name. He roused his people to fight for freedom. For three long years, the struggle raged, until at last victory was theirs. In triumph, the brave Jewish soldiers returned to the city of Jerusalem.

  When the pagans had occupied the Temple, they had defiled it by the sacrifice of unclean animals. Anxiously, the priests searched for some unpolluted oil to rekindle the Menorah (perpetual light). All they could find was one tiny vessel of oil, its seal still unbroken. This would be enough to last only one day.

  But, by a miracle, the scant supply lasted eight full days—long enough for olives to be gathered and pressed and fresh oil made!

  Once again holy services could be held in the Temple, with songs and prayers offered up to God. Candles gleamed in the homes, and even the streets of the city were lit. For eight days the celebration continued. Ever since, each year, the candle lighting ceremony is repeated for eight nights, with a candle added each night.

  “Tomorrow I want to hold the shamosh and light the two candles,” Gertie said.

  “Six children and Papa and Mama makes eight.” Sarah had it all figured out. “It’ll come out exactly right.”

  “Yes,” Papa nodded. “Everybody will have a chance. Ella, sing for us.”

  So Ella sang “Rock of Ages,” and in a little while, the whole family joined in.

  Rock of Ages, let our song

  Praise thy saving power;

  Thou amidst the raging foes

  Wast our sheltering tower.

  Mama beamed at Papa. “Now, Papa?”

  The children smiled at each other. They knew what was coming. Papa pulled out his change purse. “I’m afraid there isn’t much Hanukkah money inside,” he declared in mournful tones, but the girls could see that his eyes were shiny with teasing. Now he was distributing pennies, two of them to each child!

  “So much money!” breathed Charlotte.

  “Wait till we visit the relatives!” Henny added. “Then we’ll really be rich!”

  Ella was provoked. “Henny, you’re not going to go around collecting! That’s all right for the kids.”

  “Is that so?” Henny tossed her head. “Well, I’m never going to be too old to collect presents—especially money!”

  Mama put a hasty end to the argument. “Come now, children,” she called out, “or the latkes will get cold!”

  On Sunday afternoon the family was about to leave for a Hanukkah party at Aunt Rivka’s house. “Bundle up tight,” advised Papa; “it’s cold outside.”

  “It feels like more snow,” Mama added. “We’d better take our rubbers. Ella, you get the umbrellas.”

  “Do we have to drag umbrellas?” Henny questioned. “It’s so much fun to walk in the snow.”

  “Well, all right then, just rubbers for everyone,” Mama decided. “And one umbrella for me. I don’t want to spoil my good hat.”

  With Papa and Charlie in the lead, the family was soon on its way. The younger girls had a hilarious time jumping up and down the hills of snow piled up against the curb. “Take care! You’ll dirty your dresses!” Mama warned.

  “Mama,” asked Henny, “is Uncle Hyman bringing Lena to the party?”

  “I think so. Why?”

  “ ’Cause if he does, it means we’ll get an extra present,” said Henny gleefully. “Now that Uncle Hyman goes around with her, we don’t see him so often. I miss him.”

  “Him or his pennies?” Ella asked.

  Henny grinned. “Both.”

  “Lena isn’t a relative. She doesn’t have to give us anything,” Sarah reminded her sister.

  “Mama, do you see the way Lena eats?” Gertie asked. “She cuts her meat with the knife in her left hand and the fork in her right. Just the opposite!”

  “That’s the European way,” Mama explained. “Very sensible, too. They don’t have to keep switching their forks all the time.”

  “But Lena eats with her knife, too. She uses it like a shovel. Do they do that in Europe too?” Charlotte asked.

  “And the way she hangs over her plate,” Henny went on. “Like somebody was going to take it away from her.”

  “She’s probably still not used to having plenty of good food,” Mama said. “Things weren’t so easy for Lena in the old country.”

  “Well, that’s one thing she and Uncle Hyman have in common,” Ella observed. “They sure love to eat.”

  “And her English is so funny, too,” Charlotte added.

  “That’s because the language is still strange to her,” Mama said, less patiently. “Do you know she can speak several languages? Russian, Polish, Jewish. Any of you speak Polish as poorly as you seem to think Lena speaks English?”

  Mama’s words made the girls feel a little foolish. They fell silent. But then Henny started chuckling. “When she walks, I always feel like saying, “Here’s my chest, the rest is coming!” It set the others to giggling, and even Papa’s lips twitched. But Mama’s face remained unsmiling.

  “Children, children!” she said earnestly. “Everyone has his own peculiar way of doing things. How do you know that we don’t seem just as odd to Lena? You must learn to overlook different manners in people, because they don’t matter. What is really important is whether the person has a good heart. This Lena has. More than that, she’s very smart, and jolly besides. She’s always ready to see the funny side, even in herself. I think she’s a fine person! And last of all, if it weren’t for her, we would have no little Charlie. Really, girls!”

  The girls hung their heads and looked embarrassed.

  “Well,” Papa broke in, “I don’t think the girls actually intended to be mean about Lena.”

  “That’s right, Mama,” Henny said contritely. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound nasty.”

  “We weren’t very nice,” Sarah apologized.

  “We really like her an awful lot, Mama,” said Charlotte earnestly.
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  “I know.” Mama smiled at them reassuringly. “But sometimes we must think a little before we speak.”

  Into a dimly lit hallway and up three flights of stairs the family went. Aunt Rivka’s tiny boxlike flat was already overflowing with old folks and young. Joyous greetings were exchanged. “Hello, hello!” “Happy Hanukkah!”

  Gradually the grownups settled themselves near the big round table while the children were distributed on the couch, laps, assorted stools, and the floor. Someone started a song. With so much fun and laughter, others were encouraged to join. Someone else told a story, and soon the company vied with one another in telling amusing tales.

  Aunt Rivka brought in the refreshments. There were high mounds of steaming latkes, fruit, nuts, raisins and dates, and finally her great specialty, rich, brown, moist slices of honey cake. Hot tea was poured into glasses for everyone.

  All at once Uncle Solomon slapped his palm on the table. “See, children!” he called out loudly. “See what I have!” He held up a leaden object which looked like a tiny alphabet block with a stem running right through its center. Each of its four sides bore a letter. “A dredel!” “A dredel!” the children cried.

  Uncle Solomon smiled at them through his long white silky beard. “Whoever wants to play with the dredel must first tell what the letters are.”

  From various parts of the room there were shouts. “N, G, H, S!”

  “That’s all right,” Uncle Solomon nodded his head. “But who can tell me what they stand for?”

  An older boy stood up and recited in Hebrew, “Nes Gadol Hayah Sham.”

  “That’s still all right,” Uncle Solomon beamed. “But who knows what the words mean?”

  And Ella answered proudly, her voice clear as a bell, “A great miracle happened there.”

  “Perfect!” Uncle Solomon handed the dredel to his son. “Here, Nathan, take the children into the kitchen and start them off. Aunt Rivka has the nuts all ready for you.”

  As the children trooped into the kitchen, there were wails from some of the smaller ones. “But we don’t know how to play!”

  “I’ll teach you,” Nathan said good-naturedly. “First, everyone sit down on the floor and make a circle.” When everyone had done this, he continued. “Now we divide the nuts evenly amongst us. Then each puts his share in his own saucer. Now each one put a nut in the big bowl here in the center. Now watch.” He gave the dredel a spin. “Let’s see what letter comes up. You see, the letters also have a Jewish meaning.” The dredel stopped. “Notice everybody, it’s on the N. This stands for nicht or nothing. So I take no nuts from the big bowl.” He turned to Henny. “Here, you spin next.”

  Henny gave the dredel a good hard turn, and it wobbled crazily till it stopped on G. “The G stands for gantz, meaning all. You’re lucky. You get all the nuts in the bowl.”

  “But what do we do now, with no nuts left?” a little girl asked.

  “Everybody has to put another nut into the bowl,” Nathan replied. “Now the next person gets a chance to spin.”

  They played on. They soon learned that H stands for halb, half, which allows the player to take half the nuts from the bowl, and that S stands for shtell, or put, which means the player has to add another nut to the pile.

  The children enjoyed the game immensely, and the afternoon just flew away. They didn’t want to stop playing until Uncle Chaim uttered the magic words, “Hanukkah money! Come on, children!”

  Thereupon the uncles and aunts made the rounds with a merry jingle of coins. “Happy Hanukkah!” they repeated over and over, as they dropped the precious pennies into open little palms.

  And now parents began bundling up their little ones. It had grown late, and the party was at an end. Aunt Rivka and Uncle Chaim stood at the door bidding each one good-by. “May we always meet on happy occasions.”

  “It’s so nice when relatives come together,” Lena remarked when the family had assembled downstairs. “I’m glad Hyman brought me; I really enjoyed myself.” She thrust a small parcel into Gertie’s hands. “Here is my little Hanukkah present for all you girls.”

  “Oh!” “Oh!” Impatient fingers tore away the wrapping. The cover bounced off, and there, lined up in rows, were five shiny, satin sashes with five hair ribbons to match, in a rainbow array of colors. “Oh, Lena, they’re lovely!” “Dear, dear Lena!” “You’re so good to us!” Impulsively they hugged her and planted kisses on her round cheeks. All the while Uncle Hyman stood by, balancing from one leg to the other and grinning proudly.

  When the hubbub had quieted down, he stepped forward. “And now we have something special for Charlie,” he announced. He pulled out a big cigar and offered it to the little boy.

  “Don’t you think he’s a little young for smoking?” Papa inquired jokingly, as Mama looked on somewhat concerned.

  Charlie made a swift grab. The top of the cigar pulled out, releasing a tiny American flag in the shape of a fan. Everyone laughed as the astonished Charlie stared at the sudden change.

  As Uncle Hyman and Lena waved good-by, Mama suddenly remembered something. “Oh, my! I left my umbrella!”

  “I’ll get it,” Henny volunteered. She started back up the stairs.

  “It’s in the front room, by the window!” Mama shouted after her. “Ella, you wait for her,” she said. “We’ll go on ahead. It’s way past Charlie’s bedtime.”

  “Mama, can all of us girls wait so we can walk home together?” Sarah asked.

  “All right. Ella, see they come right home.”

  Upstairs, as Henny picked up the umbrella, she glanced around the empty front room. It still bore traces of the recent gathering. On the partially cleared table was a large bowl of nuts. “Aunt Rivka,” she called out, “can I have some nuts?”

  “Why not?” Aunt Rivka shouted back from the kitchen “Help yourself.”

  “How many can I take?”

  She could hear Aunt Rivka laugh. “Take as much as you can carry.”

  Oh, boy, exclaimed Henny to herself. All I can carry! Her eyes were alight with sparks of mischief. Carefully she pushed the bowl towards the edge of the table. Pulling back several ribs of the umbrella, she tipped the bowl. In a moment, the nuts were cascading down in a rattle of sound.

  As Henny sauntered past the kitchen on her way to the door, she said smoothly, “Thank you, Aunt Rivka. You certainly let me take a lot.”

  Unsuspecting Aunt Rivka kept right on washing the dishes. “It’s all right, my child,” she replied, “the more, the merrier.”

  Henny spluttered with laughter. “Don’t you want to see how many you gave me?” she asked mischievously.

  Aunt Rivka picked up a towel for her soapy hands and stepped in to the front room. When she saw the empty nut bowl, her hands flew up in amazement. “How—why, Henny, you surely can’t carry them all!” Henny held up the umbrella in triumph, and Aunt Rivka burst out laughing. “What a girl! Next time I’ll know better than to give you such a chance, or I’ll find myself with no house left.”

  “What’s the matter with the umbrella?” Gertie asked in amazement as Henny came tramping out of the hallway. “It looks all blown up!”

  Henny chuckled. “That’s because it’s full of something good!”

  Charlotte pulled back a rib and peered inside. Her jaw dropped. “Ooh, nuts! Millions of ‘em!”

  Three more heads poked themselves inside. “Look out!” Henny yelled. “You’ll break Mama’s umbrella and spill out all my nuts!”

  Ella turned on Henny. “Does Aunt Rivka know about this?”

  “Certainly!” Henny countered. “And I was very polite, too. I asked her first.”

  “Do you expect me to believe that she actually let you have all these?”

  Henny grinned. “She said to take as much as I could carry.” The grin widened from ear to ear. “So I only did what she told me.”

  “Mama won’t like it,” Sarah said immediately. “You know she always says when somebody offers you something, you’re suppose
d to take just a little.”

  “It’s all right. I showed Aunt Rivka how many I had, and she just laughed. I wanted to be sure there was enough for the five of us. Go on,” Henny added generously, “help yourselves.”

  The girls fell to and soon shells were flying in all directions. The way homeward was slow, for every time one picked a butternut, she had to stop and stamp on it with her heel. After a few blocks Gertie observed, “The umbrella’s getting skinnier and skinnier.”

  Charlotte turned back to stare at the litter of shells strewn behind them. “We’re leaving a trail, just like Hansel and Gretel,” she said.

  By the time they reached their door, they were all full to bursting, and the little ones felt drowsy. “I’m so tired, my mouth is full of yawns,” Gertie said.

  Sarah stretched her arms wide. “I’m tired too. Didn’t we have a good time, though? I wish every day was Hanukkah!”

  THE WEEKLY WASH meant work for the whole family. On Saturday night when the sun had set and the Sabbath was over, Papa helped Mama with the washing. For hours they scrubbed away at the washboards. Then the clothes were boiled on top of the stove, in a large copper boiler. The kitchen had grown hot and steamy as Mama stirred and stirred the sudsy water with a well-worn wooden stick. She didn’t stop till she was sure the clothes were really clean and sweet smelling. Because it was winter time, Papa had strung lines across the kitchen, and overnight the clothes dried.

  Today was ironing day. The sprinkled clothes lay in neat rolls in a wicker basket. Papa had recently made a fine ironing board, and now it lay across the backs of two chairs. On it Mama was ironing all the hard-to-iron pieces like Papa’s shirts and her own house dresses. Also the table became a huge ironing board, where Charlotte and Gertie ironed the handkerchiefs.

  Henny sat on the couch mating pairs of stockings and socks. Ella and Sarah were folding large sheets and featherbed covers as Mama had taught them. Each held two corners of the large square. Flip, flap, they pulled it taut between them. Then, arms outstretched, they walked forward to meet each other, folding the smoothed sheet neatly in half. Again they took hold of opposite corners. Flip, flap. Flip, flap! Pull! This time it was folded in quarters. Now it was ready for the final ironing which they would give it later.