Ye are the light of the world.
A city that is set on a hill
cannot be hid.
Matthew 5:14
It was a lot of fun growing up during Hanukkah. Those of the same household are supposed to give gifts to one another. It’s a season for sharing and celebration...
A city that is set on a hill
cannot be hid.
Matthew 5:14
It was a lot of fun growing up during Hanukkah. Those of the same household are supposed to give gifts to one another. It’s a season for sharing and celebration...
Hanukkah and the miracle of the Eternal Light inside the Temple is to remind us that God has not forsaken His people.
I can still remember vividly the modern electric Menorah my parents had, which my Mom would light each evening at sundown for eight consecutive days. She would place the Menorah on the inside window ledge of our living room. My Mom would then cover her head, say a prayer, and plug the Menorah’s cord into a nearby electric outlet where it would remain lit until morning. We lived on the sixth floor, and the Menorah was visible from the street below. Every Jewish family in the neighborhood did the same thing, publicly displaying their bright Menorah’s as a sign of unity.
Then, when I was maybe eight years old, my father gave me my own personal Menorah. It was a shiny Menorah made of brass. It was about six inches long and four inches tall. It could hold nine small 3-inch wax candles. My parents would have me say a short prayer, then I’d strike a match to light the main candle, then use the main candle to light the others. I would sit in my bedroom with the Menorah on top of my dresser. I’d stare at the candles as they burned themselves down. Each morning I would have to peel off the melted, hardened wax to prepare my little Menorah for the next day’s lighting. Good memories of great days!
D.B.
I can still remember vividly the modern electric Menorah my parents had, which my Mom would light each evening at sundown for eight consecutive days. She would place the Menorah on the inside window ledge of our living room. My Mom would then cover her head, say a prayer, and plug the Menorah’s cord into a nearby electric outlet where it would remain lit until morning. We lived on the sixth floor, and the Menorah was visible from the street below. Every Jewish family in the neighborhood did the same thing, publicly displaying their bright Menorah’s as a sign of unity.
Then, when I was maybe eight years old, my father gave me my own personal Menorah. It was a shiny Menorah made of brass. It was about six inches long and four inches tall. It could hold nine small 3-inch wax candles. My parents would have me say a short prayer, then I’d strike a match to light the main candle, then use the main candle to light the others. I would sit in my bedroom with the Menorah on top of my dresser. I’d stare at the candles as they burned themselves down. Each morning I would have to peel off the melted, hardened wax to prepare my little Menorah for the next day’s lighting. Good memories of great days!
D.B.
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