The Hannukah Miracle
Adapted by Batya Podos
The Hannukah blessing was the first Hebrew blessing I learned. My family wasn’t very observant—we were High Holidays/Pesach Jews--but we always lit candles on Hannukah. I loved my hannukiah, and was proud that I could chant the blessing over the candles, but I never thought of the holiday as very magical. I was more entranced by the Christmas lights all around us.
It was not until I grew older that I came to understand the magic of Hannukah. This story is adapted from a Jewish/German folktale, but there are many variations. This version is mine.
Mendel was a carpenter. He made his living by building and repairing, but his love was for the furniture he made. His chairs, tables, stools and chests were beautifully crafted, and much in demand. He and his family lived just outside the town, near the edge of the forest, so he could easily gather the wood he needed.
On the first night of Hannukah, he was preparing to take four chairs to a wealthy family who had commissioned them. Each was lovingly wrapped in a blanket and put onto his wagon. There was a light snowfall. He kissed his wife, Sarah, goodbye and hugged his children. “Don’t light the first candle until I’m home,” he told them. Then, he patted his trusty horse and climbed up on the wagon and turned it towards the forest road.
His family waved him off, then went back inside to prepare for the Hannukah festivities, the children dancing in excitement. It was hours yet until dark, but there was much to do. The house was cleaned, the table was cleared and covered with the special Hannukah tablecloth Sarah had made years ago—embroidered with dreidels and hannakiyot. Bowls of raisins and nuts were set out, with strict instructions for little hands to stay away, and potatoes were shredded and left to drain. The hannukiah, which had been passed down through Sarah’s family, was set in the window with its single candle and shamash waiting. All the while, the snow kept falling.
By evening, the latkes were cooking, and the children were growing impatient. Where was their father? They promised they wouldn’t light the first candle until he came home. But when Sarah looked out the window, all she saw was white. The weather had turned and the wind and picked up, bringing with it a full-blown storm.
It grew later, and Sarah began to worry. It was now dark, except for the swirling snow. She gathered the children to her and said, “We’ll light the candle for Abba so he can find his way home.”
So, they said the blessings and lit the first candle of the Festival, then sat down to their latkes, even though they were like dust in Sarah’s mouth. Outside, the storm raged. It was then that Sarah noticed that the candle had disappeared from the hannukiah. Perhaps it had falled out and was lying, extinguished, on the floor. But no matter how hard she looked, there was no candle. It couldn’t be explained, and it added to her worries.
Meanwhile, Mendel was caught in the storm. He had delivered the chairs and had set off for home, when the full force of it hit. Even though he knew the forest as well as his own hand, the snow was so fierce, that he missed the turning in the road and became hopelessly lost. He had no choice but to abandon his wagon, and lead his horse through the trees, as they tried to find their way home, both growing colder and colder.
Mendel was close to despair. They couldn’t find their way and wherever they turned, they were blinded by the storm. Suddenly, he saw a light ahead, and his heart leapt with hope. He followed the light and whenever he lost sight of it, it appeared again, urging him forward. The light guided him through the forest, and eventually he could see his own warm house through the trees, with the light of the first candle of Hannukah in the window.
Sarah had been watching and waiting when the candle suddenly returned to the hannukiah. She flung open the door just to see her husband and his horse appear through the trees, crusted in snow. The children, seeing their father return, ran to him with joy. They took the horse to the barn to tend to it, and Sarah brought her husband inside to sit by the fire and warm himself with a cup of hot, sugared tea.
“It was a miracle,” he told her. “A light in the forest led me all the way home. It was as though the Holy One sent it to save me.”
Sarah looked at the hannukiah. The candle, returned by some unseen hand to its rightful place, was burning low. She understood that there were many kinds of miracles, and that this first night of Hannukah, she had experienced one of her own. With a whisper of thanks, she went to the oven and brought out the latkes for her husband.
Batya Podos is an ordained Maggid, and has been a professional storyteller, dramatist and educator for over 35 years. Believing that the strands of story connect us all, she is committed to interfaith work.
She is Nahalat Shalom's Education Director, works with the Cheder Religious School at Nahalat Shalom, and has just completed hosting the New Mexico Jewish Storytelling Festival at Nahalat Shalom in Albuquerque for the fourth year.
She can be contacted at batsongs@gmail.com.
Mark Binder premiered his new work, “A Better Place?” featuring characters from Izzy Abramson’s village life—his own Chelm—which may or may not have existed somewhere in Poland in the last century. Each vignette he presented was filled with humor and a deep understanding of human nature. On Saturday night, after a community Havdallah, Karen Golden presented the New Mexico premiere of her autobiographical story “Pilviskai: My Father’s Village” which traced her trip to Lithuania with her daughter and her discovery of the massacre of her father’s village. She led us through her story with humorous anecdotes, having the entire audience laughing, until we cried with the truth of what she had discovered. Afterwards, there was klezmer music and dancing and we left with joy, even though our hearts had been broken.
Karen and Joanie led an interactive children’s program on Sunday morning, followed by a story created and told by students at B’nai Israel—a Jewish Three Bears!
New Mexico’s own Bob Kanegis led a workshop on Family Storytelling and everyone made a storytelling amulet to inspire them to create and save their family stories. Cherie Karo Schwartz led a beginner’s storytelling workshop and three new storytellers were birthed at the end of the Festival, telling stories for an audience for the very first time.
The Festival was a huge success and plans are already underway for next year’s. It’s not too early to add your name to the list of volunteers or storytellers! If you’re interested, please contact Batya Podos at nmjewishstorytelling@gmail.com.
This was the colorful poster for this year's Storytelling Festival
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