Commentary : How 2 Jewish Children Doubled Their Holiday Joy

Last year, the holiday of Hanukkah fell close to Christmas. Jewish holidays occur on different dates each year because the Hebrew calendar is lunar, dependent on the phases of the moon, which do not coincide exactly with our daily, Gregorian calendar. This year, Hanukkah began very early; the first candle of the eight-day celebration was lit on the evening of Dec. 3. This year, the two holidays will not intersect at all.

Questions about Christmas will intensify for young Jewish children. The fascinating sights and sounds of yuletide will appear long after the glow of the Hanukkah candles has faded. The distraction provided by their own holiday, which commemorates the rededication of the Holy Temple by the Maccabees after it had been defiled by the Syrians, will not exist. The children will truly be full-time spectators at Christmas.

Do they merely have to watch? Is there a place for them, a way to join the “Christmas spirit” to their spirit of Hanukkah, without offending their religion or encroaching upon their neighbors’ Christianity?

Last year, we found a way.

During their winter school holidays, our grandniece and grandnephew usually fly down to San Diego from the state of Washington to visit with us. There is no conflict in our house about Christmas; our own children are adults and the visiting children know that Uncle Erv is a rabbi.

They will expect us to save the Hanukkah decorations--the holiday will be long gone by the time they arrive this year. They will await eagerly the brightly lit candles and presents; we will not disappoint them. And they will look forward to playing “dreidl,” a special Hanukkah game whose paraphernalia includes a spinning top and many pennies. Uncle Erv supplies the equipment--grandniece Rachel always wins. But this year, our visitors will look forward to more than games and gifts.

When they joined us last year, Rachel was 9, her brother, Aaron, almost 12. They listened politely as we discussed the poor and the homeless people of North County who could not expect a happy and abundant Christmas.

“What can we do about it?”, Aaron asked. It was a pertinent question, especially since it was the morning of Dec. 24. Together, we worked out an answer.

A patient social worker at the North County Interfaith Council in Escondido took my call. “Yes, indeed, there are still unmet needs in the community.” In fact, she had just spoken to the father of five young children, ranging in age from an infant to a 7-year-old. The man was unemployed; the family was facing a meal of soup for Christmas. Rachel’s blue eyes were round in shock: “Soup for a holiday dinner?” Rachel loves to eat.

It was a challenge. We made up a grocery list, guided by suggestions from the social worker. Before shopping, we discussed “anonymous giving.” We explained to the children Judaism’s concept of “justice” rather than “charity”; the underprivileged, God’s children too, deserve our help. And the best way to offer it is when those who receive it do not know who provides it, and those who provide it do not know who receives it.

We would not meet the family to hand them a box of food. The social worker at the interfaith council planned to arrange for its pickup, after we dropped off the groceries at her office. Our satisfaction would come from knowing that we had, literally, warmed a family’s Christmas without embarrassing them or us in any way. And the family would be helped without losing a shred of its dignity. The children understood; they were comfortable with the arrangement. And they were eager to start.

Rachel and Aaron shopped with thoughtful good sense. They chose wisely and well, reading ingredients and planning menus. Their thoroughness and concern delighted us. It was not all basic, solid food; a fair share of goodies hit the basket. As we moved to the checkout counter, Rachel was missing. In good time she appeared; we had forgotten toys. Her small arms were loaded; a rattle for the baby, a book for the oldest and an in-between assortment of balls and games for the others. She dropped them in the basket.

Then our niece and nephew disappeared, together. When they returned, they were sheepish. (I apologize now for thinking, “I wonder what they want for themselves?”) Shyly, each of them handed Uncle Erv several dollars from their holiday spending money: “We want to share!”

Who said Jewish children cannot celebrate Christmas? Who said the spirit of Christmas and Hanukkah cannot merge?

Savoring the delicious joy of our day, I suggested at home that we volunteer to serve Christmas dinner the following day, wherever we were needed. Rachel and Aaron thought that was a neat idea, but “Let’s save it for next year,” they chorused!