The Canadian Jewish News, Thursday, December 21, 1989-Page B19
Chanukah Greetings
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Become harder as child grows
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■ By ■■ M ARC Y GOLDMAN-PpSLUNS
MONTREAL-
When Jonathan was 10 months old we took a picture of him onthe occasion of'his first lighting of the Chanukah menorah. His small-face was beautifuJly ' caught by the candles' glow, his huge brown eyes \yere wide with fascination,; Crowning his baby soft hair was a blue silk yarmulka; in the foreground was a huge platter of latkes, potato pancakes, replete with the two requisite bowls of applesauce and sour cream.
Howard held him proudly in his arms and I quickly snapped the hdii-, day shot. Sometimes the picture is a^ clear to me as the Kodak film it is on.
. A year later and Jonathan
■ was close to two years old. Another Chanukah shot— this time with an independent toddler inadly competing with his father for the candle-lighting honors. That picturt} is just as poig-
. nant.. if more frantic.
By Chanukah ^ "two plus" the picture shows how much my firstborn .son has grown andtheeyes. still " bright, reflect understanding and comprehension of seasons, holidays,- and tradition. If I had to poifhce on the moment things got com-
, plicated I guess this would ' be-it.
We are making latkes. Jonathan is allowed togViate the potatoes, and uses the on-off switch on the .Cuisiria:rt like a pro, ; "Tell me again about judah Maccabee and Chanukah."
I sigh. I'm not patient' enough and a two year old' thrives On repetition — not an ideal pairing of virtues. I tell him. I lightly mention the Jewish part — that the Maccabees were Jews who wanted to remain that way and fought, 'against-intredi-. ble odds, to preserve their tradition.
Their- temple was desecrated and new oil had to be procured to light.the sacred menora. In a miracle of faith and re-dedication the small bit of : unsullied oil they found lasted eight days — long enough to press and manufacture moreoil.-And thus eight branched candelabrum burried continuously, assured of the supply of sacred fuel. - :-. rAre we Jewish?" he ■ asks. . ' '
"Yes," I say.
Nothing more. Like ''where did I come'"""-from?" questions, I seie no reason to explain further r- further than I ain asked to, further than I know or want to. A bit of a draw in any case, for he seems disinterested and the oil for the pancakes has started to smoke. We fry up thre^ pancakes and Jonathan gets-bored. He eats /one, grimaces, and dives, into the nearby bowl of -applesauce.
I see him debate whether
Howard Posluns and his son Jonathan light the Chanukah menorah.
But the. holiday question comes up again, the next' day, for we.are at the Mall nearby and thC; Christmas display and Santa Claus podium are unbelievably or- * nate. the scent of holiday anticipatipn_coats the air. People biistle and become intense'aVday's end figur; ing out how to saUsfy the long Christmas gift lists. There are so many children: big-eyed, bored, excited, tired, over-tifed, fretting, smiling.
And then there is Jonathan and me. Sometimes I like being Jewish at Christmas because it offers you the unique vantage point of enjoying and partaking of the other holiday in small ,doses without any of the stress of fulfilling those daunting gift lists. People are warmer at this time of year and they smile more and wish «ach other well.
. And sometimes; though not often, but sometimes, Christmas makes nie'feel a little lonely, a wanderer in a place where 1 ttiake my home yet where I am foreign and excluded. I am not mainstream. That other," "little" holiday is the one rm kin too. And though I am not a very observant Jew, I am traditional.
I never have really thought of these things with : any depth before. I have not had to; i am not even sure h if I have formulated,any •values about these issues. But for Jonathan. He pokes at me now. demandin sW Santa. Lhesitate.
he should pester again or watch Lady arid the Tramp foRlhehundredth lime; Fortunately, Walt Disney wins out and lam left in relative peace to fry the.remaining latkes.
''No. sweethean.'" • "Why not?" he asks. I clutch. Maybe it was the wrong answer. Would lightening strike me if I let my son sit on a costumed stranger's knee? Would it make any difference to how the universe runs if a Jewish toddler told Santa
about his wishes and dreams?
At the Santa display all is ti.nsel and magic. A woman, dressed as an elf beck--oris to us but I smile and resist. She motions to her camei-a, signalling riie that' if my little one sits with Sain-tawe get a free" snapshot and a small candy-cane.'
By now, Jonathan, is balky, and senses with a child's unerring perception, my inner conflict. Other-children have begun lining up. Other mothers are coaching the shy, anticipating youngsters, all craving Santa and,candycan^i—no. wee bit oT.seduction.
A tug. a nudge.
"Why not?".
Oh hell. I think. Does it make a difference? Must I start telling him things now. at 2'/2?
."Because we are Jewish. We celebrate Chanukah at this time of year. "■' I don't dare get into the fact that Jesus himself was Jewish — we'll tackle that another time. ;
'.'What does Jewish mean."
"It means we have certain holidays and other people have other holidays." giving him one huge historical understatement.
What I yearn to tell him so badly is that there really is no difference between people. That we are all the same. But I can't, and cannot, with any degree of comfort, give him Christmas, simply because it is more "fun." I can give hini over 5,000-years of "history he-has-earned by his birthright — but I can't give him this season — with its green and red hues, blinking lights, and mistletoe.
1 look at Jonathan, waiting. I am proud of what we are but still ambiguous about having to tell a child Ih'ai'Re has~lo" be aware of these things! That not only
is the world not Jewish, but often anti-Jewish. Anti/all sorts of things that aren't the same. And while "vivrela ..difference--' riiakes the world interesting it is also the root of fear and fear is undoubtedly the basis of prejudice.^
So we stand in the mall, surrounded by Noel aind reindeer and I tell him in-^ stead of the family dinner we'll have for Chanukah, the dreidel games, Chanukah gelt, more pancakes, and small presents, one a night, for the eight days of the holiday. He knows it is not the same but takes my concessionary offer. He's 2'/2 and yet something in xtiy_ tone transmits to him. He sighs a child's disappointment.
As we walk through the mall he asks if Daddy is , Jewish. . ■
"Yes." 1 .say; -.
"How about,grandma. Auntie J^arla, and Erica?".
''Them too." I reply.
"How about the lamp post and our cat.s?"
1 sense things are getting out of hand and let the conversation peter out. Outside it is already dark and we trudge through the mall parking lot to our car- The air is that unbecoming winter dusk —cold. damp. It makes you want to hurry
home,- shut thejoor quick and tight, and turn on all the lights.
When we turn into our neighborhood, some of our neighbors have already placed lit menorahs in the windows (a tradition in our end of the suburbs) and they glow, like steady beacons, as we -Wind into our driveway. Finally uiside, I get out the holiday candelabrum, Johnathan's blut silk yarmulka, and .some grape juice (Jonathan's "shab-bat wine") for the toast. When Howard comes through the door we hustle him to the waiting Chanukah props. We say the prayer together. The , first candle and shammas ' candle flicker, then flare bright.
"Happy Chanukah, little son." and place my ami around his shoulders. ,
As I. write this article; Jonathan js almost four and Gideon, the newest son. a grand five months. I'm going to go easy on the latkes since we never did finish all the ones I had frozen away from last year. And we may attend a Chanukah party at a small synagogue we have begun attending:
A few days ago. Itook the two boys to the Mall, and even though it is only November, Santa's throne was being assembled,
"We do Chanukah, right .Mom?". ,.:^,..,l.^;-,J,--ru
I wince at the term' "do" . but agree. -. "Does my friend Shaun do Chanukah or Christ-ma.s?"
VChristmas." ;
•'Can i share Christmas • with him."
" You can share Christmas at his home with him. And when hecomes to our house, we can share Chanukah withhirri.''
Jonathan is happy with this and seems to accept things on this level. And I am relieved, actually, that I don't have to become explicit and too philosophical . each and every time the issue comes Up. 1 'ni surprised too to find that I do have strong feelings about such , things after all.
But Jonathan asks questions that must be -answered. And my iristincts arid values work overtime trying to keep things both simple and true. I suppose I falter every once in a while, but can do rto less than fairly answer what he asks. What we are is what we are — no more, no less.
Gideon moves about on his back in the .stroller and gives forth a small burp. He does not think too much of all this ... yet.
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