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Some eighth night thoughts

 

 

Just a little while ago, my husband and I lit the last candles of Chanukah. They candles are still burning as I type.


Last night our kids joined us for dinner ( many latkes in three varieties--batata, carrot and zucchini) and candle lighting and singing and the exchange of gifts. It was wonderful to be together.

Tomorrow I will clean the wax and the oil from all of our chanukiyot. But before I do that I want to share two Chanukah thoughts.


As I wrote in my last post, this year I used wicks that I made by twisting the weft threads from an old rag. The wicks are thin.  



The resulting light isn't  hearty flames but rather teeny pinpricks of light against the darkness.
Of course it brought this song to mind.


The song talks about chasing away the darkness with light and how our small lights join together to create a mighty one.


Looking at these tiny points of light




also has me thinking about needing to make a teeny bit of oil last for a long time, perhaps the original inspiration for Chanukah but also times in history when lighting Chanukah candles was an expression of bravery in a hostile world.





Yesterday, I received an envelope in the mail with an Indianapolis return address.  In the envelope was a beautiful card  from my older son's kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Sullivan.  I know that I am an adult and can refer to her by her first name, Nancy, but for us she will always be Mrs. Sullivan. ( My son is even old enough to refer to mrs. Sullivan by her first name but old habits die hard)

During the early days of the war in Gaza when we were in our son's safe-room avoiding rocket fire Mrs. Sullivan was one of the people sending us messages of love and encouragement on Facebook. 

Nancy's card was filled with love and her hopes for us, and for Israel and she included this beautiful hankie that she had made in blue and white as an expression of support of us and for Israel.


Here it is in the center of my dining room table with the fish jug my son in law gave me resting atop of it.


I got teary when I saw that hankie. The truth is that I have been just kind of depressed since October 7---actually most of my friends are as well. I was so touched that Mrs. Sullivan reached out and made me something so lovely to let me know that we were very much in her heart.


I looked at the pretty blue crochet edging and thought about who must have taught Nancy to crochet. This hankie felt like a benediction from a long line of Nancy's family.



Of course, I immediately thought of Psalm 121,


I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, From where comes my help. My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth.


I actually didn't even know that I needed the support and love that were in Nancy's note and contained in that hankie---but I did. I am so grateful.

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