HANUKKAH MEMOIR: Tribute to a matriarch who shines with light of love and faith

c. 1996 Religion News Service (Rabbi Eli Hecht is vice president of the Rabbinical Alliance of America. He is the director of Chabad of South Bay in Lomita, Calif., and has been involved in counseling and outreach programs for more than 25 years.) UNDATED _ My sweet grandmother is a tiny woman, barely five feet […]

c. 1996 Religion News Service

(Rabbi Eli Hecht is vice president of the Rabbinical Alliance of America. He is the director of Chabad of South Bay in Lomita, Calif., and has been involved in counseling and outreach programs for more than 25 years.)

UNDATED _ My sweet grandmother is a tiny woman, barely five feet tall. Bubbie, as she is known to all of us, celebrated her 99th birthday this year. She’s also had a brush with the miraculous, which has become the stuff of family legend.


And since Hanukkah _ which begins this year on Dec. 5 _ is the season of miracles, it is a tale worth telling, the story of a matriarch’s devotion to her family and her faith.

It involves Bubbie’s candelabra: a remarkable family heirloom, two feet tall, made of solid silver. All year round it had three branches of two candlesticks. In the middle was a stem for another candle. The traditional custom for Sabbath eve is to light one candle each for the father, mother and children. As each child is born, another candle is added.

During the week of Hanukkah, however, Bubbie would add more branches, and replace the candle holders with oil cups for the special lighting on Hanukkah. Thus our Sabbath candelabra became a menorah.

But Bubbie’s candelabra was more than that. It had become a magnet that brought family and friends together. On Sabbath evenings, Bubbie would don a special kerchief and with great fanfare she would light each candle. When she finished, she would stand in front of the candelabra, eyes clenched shut, tears running down her cheeks. She would then pray for her husband, her married children and her grandchildren.”Dearest Father, God,”she prayed in Yiddish,”Watch and protect my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. May it be your will that they grow up to be good people and are loyal to our religion. Please grant my dear husband a livelihood and patience. Watch over us all.” We all stood by the Sabbath table in awe. Bubbie looked like a queen speaking to the king of kings, the almighty God. When she finished her prayer, we began our Sabbath day.

As our family grew to span five generations, Bubbie spent more time with her candles, praying for each family member by name. By the time she reached her 96th birthday, it took almost 20 minutes for her to mention more than 100 offspring.

During Hanukkah, the prized candelabra was given to Upa, her husband, to be used for the holiday. Hanukkah was the happiest time for the family. All the children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren came to Upa and Bubbie to receive gifts and join in the lighting of the menorah.

After Upa died, Bubbie wintered in Miami Beach and took her candelabra with her. Every Sabbath, she would polish the silver candelabra and pray,”May my mazel (luck) always shine!” But all this came to an end two years ago in Miami when a thief stole her precious candelabra. Bubbie was livid. Her small body shook like a willow in a storm: How could anyone do such a thing? Her only concern was how she would light her candles until the prized menorah was restored to its rightful owner.”I have prayed that the menorah would protect us and I’m sure that the menorah has done just that,”she told us.”Now I pray that the menorah protect itself and be returned to me.” With determination, Bubbie prayed and prayed. The family did not know what to do. Then one day, a childhood friend from Austria, Bubbie’s birthplace, visited her in Miami and mentioned she had seen an elaborate menorah in a shop window that was remarkably like the one Bubbie had lost.


We were dumbfounded. Could it be that our visitor had seen the stolen menorah? Bubbie jumped up and said,”Let’s get my menorah back! It soon will be Hanukkah and I need the menorah.” Bubbie, my parents, Bubbie’s friend and a policeman all made their way to the gift shop. With a gleam in her eyes and a shout of joy, my grandmother pointed to the menorah in triumph.”Yes, you have done well,”she said, as if she were addressing an old friend.”You have protected us and now you have protected yourself. Come back home to my family and me.” The owner of the shop was flabbergasted. He didn’t know what to say. He could not deny that he had tried to sell a stolen menorah. But in exchange for an apology, Bubbie agreed not to press charges.

She grabbed the menorah off the shelf and held it close to her heart. It was nearly as big as she was, but nobody dared stop her. Neighbors, Jewish and non-Jewish, joined Bubbie in her triumphant walk home. The closer she got to her home, more and more people joined her. It was a sight to see; truly, a Hanukkah parade.

Some would call this reunification a miracle. But to me, the real miracle is Bubbie herself, whose 99 years of life on this earth shine as brightly as the candles on her beloved menorah.

MJP END HECHT

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