TITLE: The Light of Hanukkah
AUTHOR: Mara Greengrass
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL: fishfolk@ix.netcom.com. Feedback is better than chocolate.
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Yes, just let me know.
CATEGORY: Gen
RATING: G
WARNING: Holiday bashing ahead, as well as some minor dissing of deities. If
this bothers you, stop reading now. All flames and flamers will be chopped into
little pieces and fed to the Invisible Pink Unicorn.
SUMMARY: "I don't believe in the whole deity and miracle thing, but the being
hounded through the woods for being born the wrong way, yeah, I can get into
that."
DISCLAIMER: The X-Men and the X-Men movieverse belong to Marvel and
Twentieth-Century Fox and other entities with expensive lawyers. I am making no
profit from this story.
NOTES: Kitty's prayer and discussion of Hanukkah are adapted from materials on
the website of the Society for Humanistic Judaism, but the categories of Jewish
holidays are mine. Thanks to J. Marie (aka Askani'daughter) for the beta, and
to Eiluned for offering to read it from her sickbed.
//thoughts//
***********************************
Christmas was everywhere, and it was making Kitty sick. She peered cautiously
through the library door. The darn holiday was still two weeks away, but it was
evident in the smell of baking gingerbread, the tinsel Jubilee had strung
haphazardly on every surface, and the crunch of the candy cane bits Bobby kept
dropping underfoot.
The library looked safe from Christmas cheer. As Kitty phased through the oak
door, she heard the off-key carols recede into the distance. She sank gratefully
into her favorite chair, slipping her long legs under her body to curl up in the
embrace of its worn green chenille. The Professor's library relaxed her, with
its eclectic mix of the Encyclopedia Britannica, Plutarch, and Agatha Christie.
She idly picked up the calculus textbook she'd brought as cover in case anyone
found her, but as she flipped through the pages, her mind returned to her
Christmas lament.
//It sucks to be Jewish in the month of December, where I'm constantly reminded
I'm an outsider. Wow, mutant *and* Jewish, if I could just become a lesbian, I
could round out my "most-hated" status,// she thought bitterly.
She leaned back in her chair, wrapped her arms around her body and enjoyed a
good bout of self-pity. Then the door slammed open, followed by the energetic
entry of Jubilee, trademark yellow jacket replaced with a blindingly red blouse
and green skirt. Rogue leaned in moments later, her dark bodysuit livened with a
sprig of greenery.
"There you are, girl!" Jubilee said, perching on one arm of the chair while
Rogue leaned against the nearest bookshelf. "What are you doing holed up in
here? It's Friday night, let's party!"
Kitty groaned. "Go away and let me be miserable by myself."
"What's up?" Jubilee asked.
Rogue made shooing motions with her hands. "Jubes, go away for a sec, and let me
talk to her." Jubes patted Kitty's shoulder and bounced her way out of the room,
humming "I Saw Mummy Kissing Santa Claus."
Rogue settled on the rug and propped her chin in her hands. "Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Well, what crawled up your ass and died?" Rogue tried to growl like Logan, but
it didn't quite work.
Kitty managed a weak smile. "The Christmas stuff is just a bit much, and I feel
left out. I'll get over it."
"You're welcome to join in."
"But I don't *want* to." Kitty wanted to pound her head against the wall. Didn't
anyone *get* it? "It's not my holiday and I don't *want* to celebrate it. I
don't care about the baby Jesus. I don't believe in God at all. And if you ask
me how I can be Jewish and not believe in God, I'll smack you."
Rogue sensibly ignored most of the outburst. "Honey, it's not really about being
Christian."
"That's easy for you to say, but you know it is. It's not my holiday, and it's a
reminder that I'm not like everybody else."
"You know we don't mean that," Rogue said, her brows furrowed.
"I know." Kitty curled up in a tighter ball in the chair, and before she could
say anything else, Rogue slid onto the corner of the seat and carefully put her
arms around her. Kitty was touched that her normally skittish friend would do
this for her. She rested her head on Rogue's shoulder and breathed in her
vanilla shampoo.
"You're our friend and we love you," Rogue said.
"Thanks."
Rogue squeezed her. "Feel a little better?"
"Yeah, but I don't think I'm ready to handle Jubes yet."
"I'll try and keep her busy if you try and cheer up," Rogue said. "Promise?"
"I'll try."
She closed her eyes, leaned back in the chair, and contemplated her next move.
She was startled by the sound of a footstep on the oriental rug. "Jubes, if
that's you, go away," she said.
A voice much deeper than Jubes', with just a little Canadian accent on the
vowels spoke. "What's up, kid?"
Kitty opened her eyes to see Logan settling into the chair opposite her.
"Nothing," she said quietly. The last person she wanted to admit she was being
emotional and weepy to was the big, bad Wolverine.
"Yeah, 'nothing' always has you hiding out in here sending your friends away. Do
I *look* stupid?" He crossed his arms, and looked (in fact) immovable. "Tell me
about it. I'm not as mean as I'm cracked up to be. Not outside the Danger Room,
at least."
"It's just all this Christmas stuff," Kitty said, wrapping her arms around her
and staring at the book in her lap. Maybe if she ignored him, he'd go away.
"Yeah, all this enforced cheeriness gets to be a bit much, doesn't it?" Logan
said.
Her eyebrows shot up, but all she could manage was, "Uh huh." They sat in
silence for a few minutes, and she flipped a few pages.
"It's tough, this time of year," Logan said finally. "Everybody's got these
happy holiday memories I haven't got. Hell, for all I know, I'm Jewish. Or
Buddhist."
She dared a look at his face, but he wasn't looking at her, he was looking up at
the ceiling, his face tight. He absently rubbed the knuckles on his right hand.
"I'm sorry," she said, unsure what else to say. She'd never thought about what
it was like to not remember your past, to lose the good bits as well as the bad.
"Not your fault. Just wanted you to know you're not the only one feeling left
out." He shook his head and stood up. "Don't just sit here being depressed. Go
talk to Ororo."
"Ms. Munroe?"
"Yeah." He paused. "And if you feel the need to get further away from Christmas,
you can hide out in my room any time."
"Thank you. I...maybe I'll take you up on that."
Logan nodded once and padded out of the room. She sat a little longer in her
chair, savoring the gift he'd given her.
*******************************
She was feeling a little better, so she ventured out of the library. But when
she got to her bedroom, between the miniature tree with flashing red lights and
the talking Santa doll, she realized she couldn't stand to be in there. Every
room seemed to contain someone singing or decorating or wanting to talk to her.
The dining room contained some of the younger kids practicing Christmas songs,
overseen from one corner of the room by Mr. Summers. He looked up from the
papers he was grading long enough to wave.
She wandered into the rec room, thinking perhaps she could convince the gang to
put on some harmless sitcom for a while. Bobby waylaid her as soon as she
entered the room.
"Kit-Kat, where've you been?" he asked.
"Around," she said absently, craning her neck to see what was on the television.
"We were looking for you earlier. John and I were gonna go see the midnight
showing of _Miracle on 34th Street_ and we thought you might want to come
along."
Kitty stopped looking at the television and turned slowly to look at Bobby. "Um,
work with me here." She pointed at herself. "Jewish? Not celebrating Christmas?"
"Oh, c'mon Kitty, it's just a movie. I don't see them making Hanukkah movies.
Hey, maybe you should make one. You can sing that song about making things out
of clay." Bobby was laughing hard.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she said, "Bobby, you're a jerk," and ran out of the
room.
//Damn that boy, maybe his real mutant power is being annoying,// she thought as
she stomped away. He called out after her, but she slid through a few walls to
get away, startling Ms. Grey reading a romance novel in front of a fireplace and
Dr. McCoy juggling oranges in the kitchen. As she phased through the pantry, she
looked back and saw him drop five of them. She winced. She'd owe him an apology
later for that.
For now, her improved mood was shot.
She could go to Logan's room, but she wasn't quite ready to take him up on that
offer. Well, he'd told her to talk to Ms. Munroe; maybe he knew something about
the other teacher she didn't. So, she skirted the main areas of the mansion and
slid up to the attic garden where the plant-loving teacher was most likely to be
found during the winter.
As she ascended the polished stairs, the tinsel petered out, as apparently even
Jubilee gave up. By the time she reached Ms. Munroe's isolated level, the walls
were back to normal, festooned only with the occasional landscape or priceless
vase in a nook. She felt better already.
As she reached to knock on the door, she heard music from within and froze. She
relaxed when she realized it was classical but *not* the Nutcracker Suite.
After a few calming breaths, she knocked tentatively on the door. She waited a
few moments, sticking her hands in her pockets before Ms. Munroe opened the
door. Would she be upset at a student bothering her in the evening?
Ms. Munroe opened the door, and Kitty could see she wore a swirling green robe.
"Please come in," she said. As Kitty crossed the threshold, she was shocked by a
rush of warm, scented air. It washed over her like a wave of floral perfume.
Ms. Munroe moved through a maze of plants, from a humble philodendron to a spiky
flower Kitty didn't recognize, but thought looked like something out of a Star
Trek episode.
Underneath a row of African violets was a low couch, and Ms. Munroe led her to
it. "Would you like some tea?" she asked before sitting down. "I believe I may
even have some shortbread."
"That'd be nice," Kitty said, relaxing as her teacher swept to a small
kitchenette to put on water for tea.
Moments later, they were both settled with tea and cookies. Ms. Munroe asked,
"Now, please tell me, what is bothering you?"
How to phrase it? The words leapt out of her mouth before she could censor them.
"I despise Christmas!" Kitty said.
"As do I," Ms. Munroe said. Kitty looked at her in surprise. "Perhaps I would
not have used quite that word, but I agree with the sentiment. Didn't you know
that I am not a Christian either?"
"No, I guess I didn't. I'm sorry."
"No need to be sorry, it is an easy assumption to make in this country. But it
is not easy to be one of the few people not celebrating, is it?"
Emboldened by the understanding, the words poured out of Kitty. "Every time I
sit in front of the television, someone puts on 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed
Reindeer.' Radio stations keep playing 'Rock Around the Christmas Tree' or
whatever that darn song is. I can't even go to the mall!"
"It is overwhelming, but you are not alone in this. And, of course, you have
your own holiday."
Kitty groaned. "If one more person equates Hanukkah with Christmas, or asks me
to sing the dreidel song, I'm going to scream."
"I do not believe I know very much about Hanukkah, other than the basic story:
The Jews, led by Judah Maccabee, defeated the Greek king of the Syrian empire,
and then entered the defiled temple to light the oil lamps."
"Oh, the story," Kitty waved her hands, nearly leaping out of her seat in
exasperation, "that's got nothing to do with it. Most of it's not even true,
anyway. The rabbi explained that to me years ago."
"That took some of the magic away for you, didn't it?"
"Sort of, but I'd rather know the truth any day. The bit about the oil lasting
eight days rather than one? Added a long time later. All that stuff about
religious freedom? The Maccabees would have happily made the Greeks worship God
just like the Jews."
"Then what does the holiday mean to you?"
"It's not even that important a holiday, you know? But it's all about people
standing up for themselves. I don't believe in the whole deity and miracle
thing, but the being hounded through the woods for being born the wrong way,
yeah, I can get into that."
Ororo smiled. "I suppose there is a rather obvious link to modern day."
"There always is. You know, I knew a girl who said there were three kinds of
Jewish holidays: harvest holidays, religious ones, and 'somebody tried to kill
us, we kicked their butts, let's eat.'"
Ororo made a noise suspiciously like a snort. "Oh dear. I suppose Hanukkah is
one of the latter."
"Yup. I've been so busy complaining about Christmas, I hadn't really thought
about it, but I guess Hanukkah's about not letting people push you around, about
standing up for what you believe in, about heroes."
"That is certainly relevant. Perhaps," Ororo paused, "perhaps you would be
interested in doing a small celebration with me? I know I am not Jewish, but
whatever you think is an appropriate celebration."
"Maybe I could light the candles? That would be nice. Could I ask Logan, too?"
"If you wish. I think he might appreciate that."
**************************
Sunday night, with the sun setting behind the trees, Kitty looked at her small
gathering in Ororo's room, waiting to eat latkes and sufganyot. She smiled at
them, and said, "Hanukkah isn't about any particular deity, it's about courage,
it's about freedom, and it's about hope. These things are as important now as
they were 2000 years ago. The candles on this chanukiyah stand for values I
believe in: action, courage, human dignity, freedom, justice, identity, choice,
strength, and ingenuity."
As she lit the first candle, she said, "I know the traditional prayers, but I
found one on the Net that I like better. Baruch ha'or ba'olam. Baruch ha'or
ba'adam. Baruch ha'or ba'Hanukkah. Blessed is the light of the world. Blessed is
the light of humanity. Blessed is the light of Hanukkah."
--END--
AUTHOR: Mara Greengrass
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL: fishfolk@ix.netcom.com. Feedback is better than chocolate.
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Yes, just let me know.
CATEGORY: Gen
RATING: G
WARNING: Holiday bashing ahead, as well as some minor dissing of deities. If
this bothers you, stop reading now. All flames and flamers will be chopped into
little pieces and fed to the Invisible Pink Unicorn.
SUMMARY: "I don't believe in the whole deity and miracle thing, but the being
hounded through the woods for being born the wrong way, yeah, I can get into
that."
DISCLAIMER: The X-Men and the X-Men movieverse belong to Marvel and
Twentieth-Century Fox and other entities with expensive lawyers. I am making no
profit from this story.
NOTES: Kitty's prayer and discussion of Hanukkah are adapted from materials on
the website of the Society for Humanistic Judaism, but the categories of Jewish
holidays are mine. Thanks to J. Marie (aka Askani'daughter) for the beta, and
to Eiluned for offering to read it from her sickbed.
//thoughts//
***********************************
Christmas was everywhere, and it was making Kitty sick. She peered cautiously
through the library door. The darn holiday was still two weeks away, but it was
evident in the smell of baking gingerbread, the tinsel Jubilee had strung
haphazardly on every surface, and the crunch of the candy cane bits Bobby kept
dropping underfoot.
The library looked safe from Christmas cheer. As Kitty phased through the oak
door, she heard the off-key carols recede into the distance. She sank gratefully
into her favorite chair, slipping her long legs under her body to curl up in the
embrace of its worn green chenille. The Professor's library relaxed her, with
its eclectic mix of the Encyclopedia Britannica, Plutarch, and Agatha Christie.
She idly picked up the calculus textbook she'd brought as cover in case anyone
found her, but as she flipped through the pages, her mind returned to her
Christmas lament.
//It sucks to be Jewish in the month of December, where I'm constantly reminded
I'm an outsider. Wow, mutant *and* Jewish, if I could just become a lesbian, I
could round out my "most-hated" status,// she thought bitterly.
She leaned back in her chair, wrapped her arms around her body and enjoyed a
good bout of self-pity. Then the door slammed open, followed by the energetic
entry of Jubilee, trademark yellow jacket replaced with a blindingly red blouse
and green skirt. Rogue leaned in moments later, her dark bodysuit livened with a
sprig of greenery.
"There you are, girl!" Jubilee said, perching on one arm of the chair while
Rogue leaned against the nearest bookshelf. "What are you doing holed up in
here? It's Friday night, let's party!"
Kitty groaned. "Go away and let me be miserable by myself."
"What's up?" Jubilee asked.
Rogue made shooing motions with her hands. "Jubes, go away for a sec, and let me
talk to her." Jubes patted Kitty's shoulder and bounced her way out of the room,
humming "I Saw Mummy Kissing Santa Claus."
Rogue settled on the rug and propped her chin in her hands. "Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Well, what crawled up your ass and died?" Rogue tried to growl like Logan, but
it didn't quite work.
Kitty managed a weak smile. "The Christmas stuff is just a bit much, and I feel
left out. I'll get over it."
"You're welcome to join in."
"But I don't *want* to." Kitty wanted to pound her head against the wall. Didn't
anyone *get* it? "It's not my holiday and I don't *want* to celebrate it. I
don't care about the baby Jesus. I don't believe in God at all. And if you ask
me how I can be Jewish and not believe in God, I'll smack you."
Rogue sensibly ignored most of the outburst. "Honey, it's not really about being
Christian."
"That's easy for you to say, but you know it is. It's not my holiday, and it's a
reminder that I'm not like everybody else."
"You know we don't mean that," Rogue said, her brows furrowed.
"I know." Kitty curled up in a tighter ball in the chair, and before she could
say anything else, Rogue slid onto the corner of the seat and carefully put her
arms around her. Kitty was touched that her normally skittish friend would do
this for her. She rested her head on Rogue's shoulder and breathed in her
vanilla shampoo.
"You're our friend and we love you," Rogue said.
"Thanks."
Rogue squeezed her. "Feel a little better?"
"Yeah, but I don't think I'm ready to handle Jubes yet."
"I'll try and keep her busy if you try and cheer up," Rogue said. "Promise?"
"I'll try."
She closed her eyes, leaned back in the chair, and contemplated her next move.
She was startled by the sound of a footstep on the oriental rug. "Jubes, if
that's you, go away," she said.
A voice much deeper than Jubes', with just a little Canadian accent on the
vowels spoke. "What's up, kid?"
Kitty opened her eyes to see Logan settling into the chair opposite her.
"Nothing," she said quietly. The last person she wanted to admit she was being
emotional and weepy to was the big, bad Wolverine.
"Yeah, 'nothing' always has you hiding out in here sending your friends away. Do
I *look* stupid?" He crossed his arms, and looked (in fact) immovable. "Tell me
about it. I'm not as mean as I'm cracked up to be. Not outside the Danger Room,
at least."
"It's just all this Christmas stuff," Kitty said, wrapping her arms around her
and staring at the book in her lap. Maybe if she ignored him, he'd go away.
"Yeah, all this enforced cheeriness gets to be a bit much, doesn't it?" Logan
said.
Her eyebrows shot up, but all she could manage was, "Uh huh." They sat in
silence for a few minutes, and she flipped a few pages.
"It's tough, this time of year," Logan said finally. "Everybody's got these
happy holiday memories I haven't got. Hell, for all I know, I'm Jewish. Or
Buddhist."
She dared a look at his face, but he wasn't looking at her, he was looking up at
the ceiling, his face tight. He absently rubbed the knuckles on his right hand.
"I'm sorry," she said, unsure what else to say. She'd never thought about what
it was like to not remember your past, to lose the good bits as well as the bad.
"Not your fault. Just wanted you to know you're not the only one feeling left
out." He shook his head and stood up. "Don't just sit here being depressed. Go
talk to Ororo."
"Ms. Munroe?"
"Yeah." He paused. "And if you feel the need to get further away from Christmas,
you can hide out in my room any time."
"Thank you. I...maybe I'll take you up on that."
Logan nodded once and padded out of the room. She sat a little longer in her
chair, savoring the gift he'd given her.
*******************************
She was feeling a little better, so she ventured out of the library. But when
she got to her bedroom, between the miniature tree with flashing red lights and
the talking Santa doll, she realized she couldn't stand to be in there. Every
room seemed to contain someone singing or decorating or wanting to talk to her.
The dining room contained some of the younger kids practicing Christmas songs,
overseen from one corner of the room by Mr. Summers. He looked up from the
papers he was grading long enough to wave.
She wandered into the rec room, thinking perhaps she could convince the gang to
put on some harmless sitcom for a while. Bobby waylaid her as soon as she
entered the room.
"Kit-Kat, where've you been?" he asked.
"Around," she said absently, craning her neck to see what was on the television.
"We were looking for you earlier. John and I were gonna go see the midnight
showing of _Miracle on 34th Street_ and we thought you might want to come
along."
Kitty stopped looking at the television and turned slowly to look at Bobby. "Um,
work with me here." She pointed at herself. "Jewish? Not celebrating Christmas?"
"Oh, c'mon Kitty, it's just a movie. I don't see them making Hanukkah movies.
Hey, maybe you should make one. You can sing that song about making things out
of clay." Bobby was laughing hard.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she said, "Bobby, you're a jerk," and ran out of the
room.
//Damn that boy, maybe his real mutant power is being annoying,// she thought as
she stomped away. He called out after her, but she slid through a few walls to
get away, startling Ms. Grey reading a romance novel in front of a fireplace and
Dr. McCoy juggling oranges in the kitchen. As she phased through the pantry, she
looked back and saw him drop five of them. She winced. She'd owe him an apology
later for that.
For now, her improved mood was shot.
She could go to Logan's room, but she wasn't quite ready to take him up on that
offer. Well, he'd told her to talk to Ms. Munroe; maybe he knew something about
the other teacher she didn't. So, she skirted the main areas of the mansion and
slid up to the attic garden where the plant-loving teacher was most likely to be
found during the winter.
As she ascended the polished stairs, the tinsel petered out, as apparently even
Jubilee gave up. By the time she reached Ms. Munroe's isolated level, the walls
were back to normal, festooned only with the occasional landscape or priceless
vase in a nook. She felt better already.
As she reached to knock on the door, she heard music from within and froze. She
relaxed when she realized it was classical but *not* the Nutcracker Suite.
After a few calming breaths, she knocked tentatively on the door. She waited a
few moments, sticking her hands in her pockets before Ms. Munroe opened the
door. Would she be upset at a student bothering her in the evening?
Ms. Munroe opened the door, and Kitty could see she wore a swirling green robe.
"Please come in," she said. As Kitty crossed the threshold, she was shocked by a
rush of warm, scented air. It washed over her like a wave of floral perfume.
Ms. Munroe moved through a maze of plants, from a humble philodendron to a spiky
flower Kitty didn't recognize, but thought looked like something out of a Star
Trek episode.
Underneath a row of African violets was a low couch, and Ms. Munroe led her to
it. "Would you like some tea?" she asked before sitting down. "I believe I may
even have some shortbread."
"That'd be nice," Kitty said, relaxing as her teacher swept to a small
kitchenette to put on water for tea.
Moments later, they were both settled with tea and cookies. Ms. Munroe asked,
"Now, please tell me, what is bothering you?"
How to phrase it? The words leapt out of her mouth before she could censor them.
"I despise Christmas!" Kitty said.
"As do I," Ms. Munroe said. Kitty looked at her in surprise. "Perhaps I would
not have used quite that word, but I agree with the sentiment. Didn't you know
that I am not a Christian either?"
"No, I guess I didn't. I'm sorry."
"No need to be sorry, it is an easy assumption to make in this country. But it
is not easy to be one of the few people not celebrating, is it?"
Emboldened by the understanding, the words poured out of Kitty. "Every time I
sit in front of the television, someone puts on 'Rudolph, the Red-Nosed
Reindeer.' Radio stations keep playing 'Rock Around the Christmas Tree' or
whatever that darn song is. I can't even go to the mall!"
"It is overwhelming, but you are not alone in this. And, of course, you have
your own holiday."
Kitty groaned. "If one more person equates Hanukkah with Christmas, or asks me
to sing the dreidel song, I'm going to scream."
"I do not believe I know very much about Hanukkah, other than the basic story:
The Jews, led by Judah Maccabee, defeated the Greek king of the Syrian empire,
and then entered the defiled temple to light the oil lamps."
"Oh, the story," Kitty waved her hands, nearly leaping out of her seat in
exasperation, "that's got nothing to do with it. Most of it's not even true,
anyway. The rabbi explained that to me years ago."
"That took some of the magic away for you, didn't it?"
"Sort of, but I'd rather know the truth any day. The bit about the oil lasting
eight days rather than one? Added a long time later. All that stuff about
religious freedom? The Maccabees would have happily made the Greeks worship God
just like the Jews."
"Then what does the holiday mean to you?"
"It's not even that important a holiday, you know? But it's all about people
standing up for themselves. I don't believe in the whole deity and miracle
thing, but the being hounded through the woods for being born the wrong way,
yeah, I can get into that."
Ororo smiled. "I suppose there is a rather obvious link to modern day."
"There always is. You know, I knew a girl who said there were three kinds of
Jewish holidays: harvest holidays, religious ones, and 'somebody tried to kill
us, we kicked their butts, let's eat.'"
Ororo made a noise suspiciously like a snort. "Oh dear. I suppose Hanukkah is
one of the latter."
"Yup. I've been so busy complaining about Christmas, I hadn't really thought
about it, but I guess Hanukkah's about not letting people push you around, about
standing up for what you believe in, about heroes."
"That is certainly relevant. Perhaps," Ororo paused, "perhaps you would be
interested in doing a small celebration with me? I know I am not Jewish, but
whatever you think is an appropriate celebration."
"Maybe I could light the candles? That would be nice. Could I ask Logan, too?"
"If you wish. I think he might appreciate that."
**************************
Sunday night, with the sun setting behind the trees, Kitty looked at her small
gathering in Ororo's room, waiting to eat latkes and sufganyot. She smiled at
them, and said, "Hanukkah isn't about any particular deity, it's about courage,
it's about freedom, and it's about hope. These things are as important now as
they were 2000 years ago. The candles on this chanukiyah stand for values I
believe in: action, courage, human dignity, freedom, justice, identity, choice,
strength, and ingenuity."
As she lit the first candle, she said, "I know the traditional prayers, but I
found one on the Net that I like better. Baruch ha'or ba'olam. Baruch ha'or
ba'adam. Baruch ha'or ba'Hanukkah. Blessed is the light of the world. Blessed is
the light of humanity. Blessed is the light of Hanukkah."
--END--