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Chizuk<br />
Message of Hope<br />
From The Eighth<br />
<strong>Chanukah</strong><br />
Light<br />
By Gitti Goldstein<br />
SHAAREI TIKVAH/ CHANUKAH <strong>2009</strong><br />
Iwas fashioned carefully by an honest, hardworking<br />
smithy, along with seven others just like me. He worked<br />
hard and long until we each looked no different than the<br />
other. Finally he attaches us one by one to a main stem.<br />
Truly, we are a work of art. My place is to the far left at the<br />
very end. The smithy inspects us carefully and then lovingly<br />
places us into a box and off we go.<br />
Before I know it, I am blinded by a brilliant sunlight.<br />
Warm fingers gently run over our surface while a pair of<br />
brown eyes studies each of us carefully. The man seems<br />
pleased. Some money changes hands and once again we are<br />
off, this time to a beautiful home. We are placed on a windowsill<br />
facing a busy thoroughfare. We wait in anticipation.<br />
What next? We do not have long to wait. At nightfall those<br />
same brown eyes looked lovingly at us and again those gentle,<br />
warm fingers run over our surface. The man busies himself,<br />
rolling some cotton and pouring oil into my friend’s cup<br />
at the far right. Children run about and there is excitement<br />
in the air. I feel so content and happy. I wait in eager anticipation<br />
for my cup to fill. Instead I only hear voices chanting<br />
and singing. I am patient. Maybe after this part of the ceremony<br />
he will continue plying the cotton.<br />
I realize the sad truth when the voices die down and the<br />
footsteps fade in the distance. We are left alone in the dark<br />
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