This evening is the first night of Hanukkah/Hanukah/Chanukah — and what better way is there to celebrate than with a holiday story? Here is “The Cave of Mattathias,” a tale that originated in Eastern Europe and was passed down in the oral tradition. It is one of many stories included in Howard Schwartz’s Leaves from the Garden of Eden: One Hundred Classic Jewish Tales. Happy Hanukah!
In a village near the city of Riminov there was a Hasid whose custom it was to bring newly made oil to Reb Menachem Mendel of Riminov, and the rabbi would light the first candle of Hanukah in his presence.
One year the winter was hard, the land covered with snow, and everyone was locked in his home. But when the eve of Hanukah arrived, the Hasid was still planning to deliver the oil. His family pleaded with him not to go, but he was determined, and in the end he set out across the deep snow.
That morning he entered the forest that separated his village from Riminov, and the moment he did, it began to snow. The snow fell so fast that it covered every landmark, and when at last it stopped, the Hasid found that he was lost. The whole world was covered with snow.
Now the Hasid began to regret not listening to his family. Surely the rabbi would have forgiven his absence. Meanwhile, it had become so cold that he began to fear he might freeze. He realized that if he were to die there in the forest, he might not even be taken to a Jewish grave. That is when he remembered the oil he was carrying. In order to save his life, he would have to use it. There was no other choice.
As quickly as his numb fingers could move, he tore some of the lining out of his coat and fashioned it into a wick, and he put that wick into the snow. Then he poured oil on it and prayed with great intensity. Finally, he lit the first candle of Hanukah, and the flame seemed to light up the whole forest. And all the wolves moving through the forest saw that light and ran back to their hiding places.
After this the exhausted Hasid lay down on the snow and fell asleep. He dreamed he was walking in a warm land, and before him he saw a great mountain, and next to that mountain stood a palm tree. At the foot of the mountain was the opening of a cave. In the dream, the Hasid entered the cave and found a candle burning there. He picked up that candle, and it lit the way for him until he came to a large cavern, where an old man with a very long beard was seated. There was a sword on his thigh, and his hands were busy making wicks. All of that cavern was piled high with bales of wicks. The old man looked up when the Hasid entered and said: “Blessed be you in the Name of God.”
The Hasid returned the old man’s blessing and asked him who he was. He answered: “I am Mattathias, father of the Maccabees. During my lifetime I lit a big torch. I hoped that all of Israel would join me, but only a few obeyed my call. Now heaven has sent me to watch for the little candles in the houses of Israel to come together to form a very big flame. And that flame will announce the Redemption and the End of Days.
“Meanwhile, I prepare the wicks for the day when everyone will contribute his candle to this great flame. And now, there is something that you must do for me. When you reach the Rabbi of Riminov, tell him that the wicks are ready, and he should do whatever he can to light the flame that we have awaited so long.”
Amazed at all he had heard, the Hasid promised to give the message to the rabbi. As he turned to leave the cave, he awoke and found himself standing in front of the rabbi’s house. Just then the rabbi himself opened the door, and his face was glowing. He said: “The power of lighting the Hanukah candles is very great. Whoever dedicates his soul to this deed brings the time
A SHINING LIGHT - THE PLAY?
I wrote this play a while back as a First Person piece for our local daily. It was one of other pieces focusing on my experience as a student attending after school Hebrew lessons. This was a very pleasant time and experience although it didn't seem like it at the time. In any case, I'm toying with re-writing it as a play perhaps combining it with some of the other pieces. As usual, comments always welcome.
A Shining Light
BY ELEANOR TYLBOR
As a youngster, Christmas was somewhat of a demoralizing time of the year. Since our family was of the Jewish faith, we celebrated the holiday of Chanukah, which didn't seem to me to be half as exciting as the furor that went along with trimming a tree.
On occasion Chanukah fell during the same period as Christmas and somehow I couldn't work up as much enthusiasm for lighting a candle even if it was colored, as my friends seemed to experience placing ornaments on the branches of their trees.
Even though my parents explained time and time again that Jewish people don't celebrate Christmas, which meant that a tree even a miniature one was out of the question, it was difficult for me to accept. In spite of protestations that we could call it a Chanukah bush, it was obvious that there was no way a fir tree would be part of our celebrations.
Traditionally at Chanukah, children receive gifts of gelt or money and light small colored candles in a menorah (candelabra), one per night for the eight days of the holiday. While that was nice, in my mind it didn't measure up to all the excitement connected to the "other" holiday.
At Hebrew school we always celebrated the various holidays, big and small, and Chanukah was a particular favorite especially since our class, being the eldest students, entertained the residents of a seniors home. Each year the teacher would select eight students to sing and perform as Chanukah candles and competition was fierce for the part of lead candle.
Since I wasn't blessed with a good singing voice – I could barely carry a tune – I knew that my chances were slim at best to play any candle, never mind the lead candle. My biggest rival was Zelig, who had the voice and promise of a future opera singer. Not only did he have the best singing voice, he was also the top student scholastically. Plus he was also the teacher's pet. Whenever games were played for prizes during the holidays, Zelig won everything, which didn't exactly ingratiate him with the other students. Actually, we were all jealous and would have liked nothing better than for his voice to change in the middle of a concert.
Class auditions for candle parts were held a few weeks before the onset of the holiday and the best I could hope for was a minor part and even then, only if the rest of the students had an off day or laryngitis. Each student auditioned for the teacher and as expected, Zelig got the lead role, which irritated me no end.
My resentment was eased somewhat by being assigned the role of a minor candle, probably out of pity more than anything else. Those students not chosen became part of the chorus singing "tra-la-las" at the appropriate time.
Excitement was at a fever pitch when we arrived at the seniors' home, ready to perform for a live audience who were, for the most part, in wheelchairs. They were brought into the auditorium where we were lined up on stage, anxious to perform.
Glancing around the room, many of the seniors appeared half asleep.
"You will be entertained today!" their nurses might have insisted as they wheeled them into the room.
The first students opened the concert and sang well and those who followed performed admirably. Finally, it was my turn. My voice didn't fail me and I felt very proud of my accomplishment.
It seemed appropriate for me to try and paint a cactus menorah because the holiday season is upon us.
Wishing all of you a season of light, peace and an abundance of joy!
Happy Cactus Monday!!
(This atc is going out to Lynn ;) )
By: Eleanor Tylbor,
on 12/14/2008
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NOTE TO SELF: CHANUKAH CONCERT TAUGHT ME THAT ALL CANDLES CAN CAST A GLOW
BY ELEANOR TYLBOR
As a youngster, Christmas was somewhat of a demoralizing time of the year. Since our family was of the Jewish faith, we celebrated the holiday of Chanukah, which didn't seem to me to be half as exciting as the furor that went along with trimming a tree.
On occasion Chanukah fell during the same period as Christmas and somehow I couldn't work up as much enthusiasm for lighting a candle even if it was colored, as my friends seemed to experience placing ornaments on the branches of their trees.
Even though my parents explained time and time again that Jewish people don't celebrate Christmas, which meant that a tree even a miniature one was out of the question, it was difficult for me to accept. In spite of protestations that we could call it a Chanukah bush, it was obvious that there was no way a fir tree would be part of our celebrations.
Traditionally at Chanukah, children receive gifts of gelt or money and light small colored candles in a menorah (candelabra), one per night for the eight days of the holiday. While that was nice, in my mind it didn't measure up to all the excitement connected to the "other" holiday.
At Hebrew school we always celebrated the various holidays, big and small, and Chanukah was a particular favorite especially since our class, being the eldest students, entertained the residents of a seniors home. Each year the teacher would select eight students to sing and perform as Chanukah candles and competition was fierce for the part of lead candle.
Since I wasn't blessed with a good singing voice – I could barely carry a tune – I knew that my chances were slim at best to play any candle, never mind the lead candle. My biggest rival was Zelig, who had the voice and promise of a future opera singer. Not only did he have the best singing voice, he was also the top student scholastically. Plus he was also the teacher's pet. Whenever games were played for prizes during the holidays, Zelig won everything, which didn't exactly ingratiate him with the other students. Actually, we were all jealous and would have liked nothing better than for his voice to change in the middle of a concert.
Class auditions for candle parts were held a few weeks before the onset of the holiday and the best I could hope for was a minor part and even then, only if the rest of the students had an off day or laryngitis. Each student auditioned for the teacher and as expected, Zelig got the lead role, which irritated me no end.
My resentment was eased somewhat by being assigned the role of a minor candle, probably out of pity more than anything else. Those students not chosen became part of the chorus singing "tra-la-las" at the appropriate time.
Excitement was at a fever pitch when we arrived at the seniors' home, ready to perform for a live audience who were, for the most part, in wheelchairs. They were brought into the auditorium where we were lined up on stage, anxious to perform.
Glancing around the room, many of the seniors appeared half asleep.
"You will be entertained today!" their nurses might have insisted as they wheeled them into the room.
The first students opened the concert and sang well and those who followed performed admirably. Finally, it was my turn. My voice didn't fail me and I felt very proud of my accomplishment.
Zelig opened his mouth and it was like a chorus of angels had entered the room. His voice was strong and melodic and suddenly the seniors perked up, smiles on their faces in obvious appreciation of what they heard. When the last notes of his solo faded away, they all clapped appreciatively.
The musical recital was over and we performed a variety of Israeli dances, moving off the stage to mingle among our audience. Although Israeli dancing was a passion, I was consumed with the memory of the applause and accolades bestowed upon Zelig.
After our presentation and some refreshments, an elderly woman wheeled over to talk to me. She smiled, her trembling hand gently covering mine.
"Thank you," she uttered weakly and breathlessly. "You were all wonderful. How special you are to visit us!"
There was the sudden realization that it wasn't important who the lead candle was or who had the best voice. It was significant to our audience that we had taken the time to come at all.
It wasn't long after our successful performance that Zelig's voice finally broke and he never knew whether he would sing soprano or alto. Tough luck for him. My voice on the other hand, never changed and could always be depended on to sing off-key.
http://holidays.net/chanukah/
For some good Chanukah recipes and recipes for all year round, surf on down here:
http://www.gourmania.com/recipesmlym/mlnym_nofrylatkes.htm
So, there's a new photo. It's very recent. 5 minutes ago recent. Also, I split up the blogrolls. There's the bookish ones and other cool ones. A lot of the other cool ones are ones my friends do. I have cool friends (dunno why they hang out with me ;) ) and their blogs are very cool. Check them out.
But, I promised you some books, right? These are both Alice-y. Check out this Alice jewelry that I'm lusting after (she has other great stuff too. Check it out.)
Here's a little story. I was hanging out at ALA, looking for ARCs, when some lady by me picked up a book to show her manly companion. I might have maybe shrieked. A little bit. When I saw the book. She said "you obviously need this" and gave it to me (there was a big pile, she still got a copy).
The book was Frank Beddor's
Seeing Redd, the second in a trilogy and the follow up to last year's most awesome
The Looking Glass Wars.
So, Alyss has regained her queendom, but peace is uneasy. The suit families don't trust the new queen and she doesn't trust them. There are factions all over trying to take advantage of the queendom's fragility in this time of rebuilding. And someone is plotting with the kingdom next door to invade Wonderland. Where is Hatter Madigan when you need him? And will Alyss ever get a moment alone with Dodge?
An excellent followup to the first that leaves even higher hopes for the third. The ending, like the second installment in all good trilogies, is a bit
Empire Strikes Back. What intrigued me most was the depiction of King Arch's kingdom-- a bastion of sexism and machismo. He despises Wonderland because he doesn't believe women can rule. Boarderland uses drug delivery systems to keep women under control, lets women be used as currency, and has slogans of manliness carved into the cliffs such as
Boarderland men do not cry when watching sentimental crystal-vision programs with their wives. Boarderlandmen do not watch sentimental crystal-vision programs with their wives. But what promised to be an interesting examination of the sexism, gender roles, and machismo, puttered out after being rather strongly introduced. I'm hoping that it will come back in the third book.
Overall though, I actually liked this book better than the first (and I
lurved the first one) because here Frank can really break through the constraints of retelling a story. He has his version of Alyss's world firmly in hand and can now let his imagination loose. I can't, can't, can't wait for book 3. Also! Beddor put out a soundtrack for these books!
A Soundtrack! I can't wait to listen.
Full disclosure: As made obvious by the above story, this was a publisher provided ARC...
Alice In Sunderland by Bryan Talbot.
Do you know who would absolutely love this book? My dad. (Did you hear that Dad? Go to the bookstore and pick this up. Tonight-ish.) I think
Fuse originally turned me onto this one.
Still, it was totally not what I was expecting what-so-ever. This is a rather madcap love letter to Sunderland, England. Giving us a tour of the town, teaching us its history, and outlining all of Lewis Carroll's and Alice's connections with the area. But he jumps all over and you're never entirely sure if he's telling the truth... you're also treated to a guide to the great pubs of Sunderland and an interesting history of comics. (He makes a compelling case for the Bayeux Tapestry as an precursor to the comic.)
Here's the text off a sample page: (he's discussing the village of Washington on County Durham)
Washington is derived from the Anglo-Saxon hwaes
, meaning chieftain
and ton
meaning village
. Here the Saxon thane
has his wooden hall, later replaced by a medieval stone manor. Hail to the chief!
In 1180, the Norman landowners take the name of their village, becoming the first Washingtons, the direct ancestors of George Washington, the first constitutional president of the U.S.A. Rebuilt in 1623 upon the foundations of its medieval predecessor, Washington Old Hall
still displays the family coat of arms... three mullets
over two bars: The Stars and Stripes
"There's glory for you", says Humpty Dumpty. Old Glory
, to be exact. It's also in the heraldic display of Hylton Castle... and is George Washington's personal crest. Not only is Washington related to the Lambtons and the Lumleys, but also to Alice Liddell and Queen Elizabeth II.But what makes this utterly fascinating account most unforgettable is the artwork. This is, after all, a graphic novel. (Even thought I think Talbot would call it a comic book.) Talbot flawlessly mixes styles and mediums-- comic-style hand drawing with paintings with old newspapers and photographs, and with what looks like photoshopped pictures to look painted. A visual feast to go with the history and story of Alice and Sunderland.
This is a book to spend hours pouring over. Read it twice--you still won't catch everything.
And Dad? Seriously? Go get it.
By: Jennie,
on 6/8/2007
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Y'all know how much I love a good fairy tale retelling, so here's a slew of them that I can't believe I haven't blogged about yet. Plus, I'm just getting in the blogging groove for this weekend. That, and I've fallen behind on my New Year's Resolution to review 5 books a week or enough to keep up with current reading, whichever is less. After this post, I'll only be 9 books behind! Woo-hoo!
The Looking Glass Wars by Frank Beddor
Wonderland has just survived a bloody civil war and an uneasy peace reigns, but on Alyss Heart's seventh birthday, her Aunt Redd storms the palace with a rebel army. Alyss's parents are killed before her eyes and the young princess flees through a lake to Victorian London where her stories of Wonderland brand her as odd. Eventually, Alice (her new family forces her to change the spelling of her name) thinks she finds a friend who believes her stories. But when Lewis Carroll publishes
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, the details are all wrong. Alice knows she has been betrayed. Will she give up on Wonderland altogether? And what about the ragtag band of rebels, who call themselves Alyssians, who are fighting Redd's horror-filled regime?
Bador's action-packed adventure takes readers from Wonderland to England and back again, and shows us a different side of well-loved characters and places. An interesting (and bloody) twist on a classic story, this is the first in a trilogy-- I'm looking forward to the next ones.
This was also interesting because in Germany (where it was originally published) it was an adult book. My library has it in juvenile! It's also a great "boy book." Who would have thought to turn Alice into a bloody book about war and revenge?
Also, I won a
Looking Glass Wars t-shirt that says "Wonderland Exists" on the back. It's awesome and really soft. I sleep in it all the time.
Fairest by Gail Carson Levine
Did you like
Ella Enchanted? Good. You'll like this one. Like Ella, this is a very loose retelling of a classic fairy tale; in this case it's Snow White.
Aza is not pretty. All of her life, people at her inn have made fun of her because her cheeks are too chubby, she is too wide, her hair is dull black, and her lips are too red. Although she is not pretty, Aza has a beautiful voice and in a country of singers, it sets her apart. Not only does she have one of the best voices in the country, but she can
illusing--make her voice sound like it's coming from other objects and people. But when the new queen wants Aza to sing for her and deceive the entire kingdom, can Aza refuse? What will happen whens he gets caught?
Not only is this a creative and wonderful re-imagining of
Snow White, but it is also an inspiring tale of self-confidence and inner beauty. I especially liked how Levine works in the dwarves.
Bella at Midnight by Diane Stanley
This is a fantastic treatment of Cinderella that has drawn a lot of comparisons to the work of Gail Carson Levine. Bella's mother dies during her birth and the infant is sent away to be raised by peasants. Her best friend is a prince, a lowly 4th son. The class differences lead to an awful snub, and then Prince Julian is sent away as a hostage for peace. Bella is called back by her father and, for the first time, learns her peasant family is not her family. And here we get some evil steps.
The great thing about this story is that Bella has some real agency and there isn't any magic. I'll tell you know that the fairy godmother does not make an appearance in this book-- Bella does what has to be done for herself. It's lovely, really.
Beauty: A Retelling of the Story of Beauty and the Beast by Robin McKinley
I first got this book on book order in late elementary school. (Man, I miss book orders. Do they still have those? Am I going to totally embarrass my kid by ordering all the $2 books for myself?) I never read the book. I eventually weeded it or gave it away or something.
Two summers ago, my friend Elizabeth and I were talking in the post
Half-Blood Prince funk. I was filling it by rereading the
The Enchanted Forest Chronicles. She was rereading
Beauty.
I still didn't get to it until September. Because I'm a freak (plus, dude, I read it in September and am blogging about it NOW?!)
Anyway, it's great and you should read it and I wish I had read it the first time around because I would be rereading it all the time now.
Beauty is not as pretty as her older sisters-- the name is ironic. She is gangly and awkward, but smart and quick-witted. Her father becomes financially ruined and the family must relocate to a small cottage in the northern countryside. There, in the forest abutting their lands is the Beast's castle. Beauty trades herself for her father because really, she doesn't have that much else to do. You know the story. McKinley writes beautifully and adds several layers of complexity and makes it much more real.
Beauty Sleep: A Retelling of "Sleeping Beauty" by Cameron Dokey
I had to read this for work. While not as good as Beauty, this is still a great one. Dokey has written several retellings, and they're all my to-read list.
We know the set up-- Aurora's parents invite fairies to her christening. The bad fairy isn't invited but shows up anyway and curses Aurora out of spite. Her parents coddle her and keep her away from sharp things but she pricks her finger anyway...
But in this story she doesn't prick her finger. She doesn't fall asleep and weird things start happening. Aurora knows she has to cut herself to save her kingdom, but how? Enter the magical forest...
I'm most looking forward to Dokey's
The Storyteller's Daughter which retells Scherezade's story from Arabian Nights.
The Witch's Boy by Michael Gruber
I didn't like this one as much. I didn't like any of the characters. In the end, I think Gruber just tried to work too much in, which just didn't work, because they felt crammed in, like when I put a tiny sliver of a Kraft single into the lasagna just so I can claim it has one more cheese in it... Also, the ending felt really rushed.
What it does have going to for it is the fact that it's a retelling of Rumpelstiltskin, and how often do you see that? And, it's more of a "boy book" than most fairy tales re-tellings are. If he had stuck just to Rumpelstiltskin and didn't try to work in every other fairy tale in the Western cannon, I think the book would have been a lot tighter and then the ending wouldn't have to rush so much. Gruber adds a lot of very interesting detail to Rumpelstiltskin's story-- to the point where I didn't realize it was actually a fairy tale retelling and that's where it was going until really deep into the book.
Also, the fact that I didn't like the characters is not the fault of faulty writing-- I wasn't supposed to. On the other hand, if you have a cast of unlikeable people, there has to be something else going on to make me want to finish your book.
Lolita has great prose that kept me going, this one... I don't know. The cover's pretty cool though.
I was also going to talk about
Jack of Fables: The (Nearly) Great Escape, but the new Fables,
Sons of Empire, should be on my doorstep on Wednesday, so I think I'll review the two together then...
Read the rest of this post
By: Samantha Zimbler,
on 12/9/2015
By: scriberess,
on 11/3/2010
By: Laurel Gaylord,
on 12/7/2009
Lolo I am so touched...thank you!
This is so sweet of you and thoughtful too. (Is this your holiday as well?)
How clever a cactus menorah! Who would have thought? But maybe those 40 years throuogh the desert...lots of cacti in that part of the world??? Not sure. LOL
It is beautiful. I love the lights of the season. HCM.
So nice for Lynn,
Before reading the comments I looked it up since I am not so familiar with religious things.
I saw Menorahs and Chanukahs, learned something again!
Beautiful ATC!
HCM!
lovely!! beautiful theme and very lively!!
lucky Lynn:) forgot to say HCM:)
Truly talented!
Love the idea...
HCM!
"Light" is certainly one of the most wonderful gifts of the season...A lovely and thoughtful card! HCM! :)
Quickly before I forget, loved 4 Cawing Birds, Crunchy, cat in the wreath, sad at the keys, loved reading about the sisters book.....the entangled illustration, beautiful sky....what an adorable and appropriate cactus illo today....there, a little caught up!I miss you all so much!!!!
Inventive idea. Happy holidays to you.
what a beauty, so perfect for lynn. you are always so thoughtful, and i love your header, wow. big huggles to you and hcm.
So purty!!!! Love your cacti, Lolo!
Nice colours! Happy Cactus Monday.
this is SO clever. you are one thoughtful, creative, talented, insightful, intelligent woman.
wanna be friends?
So creative and thoughtful! And beautiful!
HCM belated.
And oh geez, I LOVE your 4 cawing birds!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Very appropriate.
Raven sister, my mother would take you in a second.
Love Renee xoxo
love it and i like the looseness and the colours :)
Very nice!