SPD Holiday Series Chanukah Night 1
Title: Chanukah, Night 1
Fandom: Power Rangers SPD
Rating: K/G/general audience
Summary: In the Holiday Series. First of eight fics for Chanukah. Bridge's first Chanukah present.
Disclaimer: not mine, alas.
(if you are unsure about any of the words, feel free to ask for meanings)
(and yes, the dates listed are the actual dates for the corresponding night of Chanukah for each year in which the fics take place)
Friday December 15, 2006
Two years old
All Bridge knew was that it was a special night and his father, a writhing mass of darkness and fury, was gone. He’d stomped out and taken his grey storm cloud of hatred with him. That left the most wonderful thing in the world. His mother. She was soft and happy and bright yellow. Even on the darkest of nights, she was a shining beacon of light and understanding.
Bridge loved his mother more than anything in the whole wide world. She never faded, never changed colour. She was always glowing yellow. Just her light could chase away the memory people, the balls of colour that weren’t really there. When he was scared, her light could fill the whole entire room. She’d pick him up out of his crib and he’d be overcome with happy memories and calm and love. Even when she was fighting with his father, even when the angry darkness would tint the edges of her beautiful colour, she never projected that onto him. He knew unequivocally that his father hated him, didn’t understand him. But with just as much unfailing certainty, he knew his mother’s love was unconditional.
And tonight, on the first night of Chanukah, her love was everywhere. His father’s churning angry mass was gone. His mother filled the room with her light. He’d gotten to have sufganiyot for dinner. And he had a present. His mother picked him up from the dining room table and carried him into the living room. He hated to be touched, would scream and cry and fight it when it was anybody else. But it was nice when it was his mother. She sat on the couch with him and handed him a little box wrapped in shiny blue paper.
“It’s your first present, Bridgey.” He tore open the paper and found a box of colourful candles. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with them, but he was happy to get a present anyway. They made a neat noise when he shook the box. He was unwrapped from his mother’s warm yellow glow when she slid him off her lap and stood up. She opened the box and spread all the candles on the table in front of him.
“It’s just candles, but they’re yours and you get to choose each night. Pick two candles for the chanukiah!” she told him. He quickly sorted them by colour. There were lots of whites and blues, some reds, a few yellows, one orange. But there were two greens. Just two. She needed two and the green meant no colour would be alone. He picked up the two green candles and handed them to her.
He followed her to the big window at the front of the house. She had placed a table in front of it and there was a shiny silver menorah. He counted eight candlesticks with an extra really tall one standing above the others. There was a silver star at the base, six points, just like on the necklace his mother wore. She put one candle in the very tall holder and the other candle to the far right. She lit a match and it flared dimly, washed out by its proximity to his mother’s glow. She lit the tall candle.
“This is the shamash. We use it to light the other candles.” She picked it up and lit the other candle while saying a blessing. It was in Hebrew. Bridge liked when she spoke Hebrew. It was melodic and soothing. She held his hand tightly while she said a second and third blessing. He didn’t understand the words, but he knew it was special.
When she was finished, he stared in awe. The candles were so bright! The flames were small, but the light they gave was overpowering. The flickering flames made him think of his mother and it was the first time he’d seen anything that didn’t get swallowed by her light. They held their own against her glow. They were tiny, but he felt as if those little candles could light up the whole wide world and chase the darkness away. He was mesmerized. Bridge stood in front of the menorah, just watching the flames dance, until they burnt down and eventually sputtered out.
He felt his mother’s light surround him once again and he turned into a big hug. She held him close as she carried him upstairs to his bedroom.
“Did you have a good first night of Chanukah, baby?” she asked him softly as she tucked him into his crib. He wanted to tell her how wonderful it was, what the candles were like, but he had no words. He knew he was supposed to have worked that bit out by now, that he wasn’t like other kids his age. The words were in his head somewhere, but he hadn’t found them yet, hadn’t sorted his own out from everybody else’s. So he just snuggled down further under his blanket and let his eyes fall closed while his mother stroked his hair. She hummed softly as he drifted off to sleep.
Fandom: Power Rangers SPD
Rating: K/G/general audience
Summary: In the Holiday Series. First of eight fics for Chanukah. Bridge's first Chanukah present.
Disclaimer: not mine, alas.
(if you are unsure about any of the words, feel free to ask for meanings)
(and yes, the dates listed are the actual dates for the corresponding night of Chanukah for each year in which the fics take place)
Friday December 15, 2006
Two years old
All Bridge knew was that it was a special night and his father, a writhing mass of darkness and fury, was gone. He’d stomped out and taken his grey storm cloud of hatred with him. That left the most wonderful thing in the world. His mother. She was soft and happy and bright yellow. Even on the darkest of nights, she was a shining beacon of light and understanding.
Bridge loved his mother more than anything in the whole wide world. She never faded, never changed colour. She was always glowing yellow. Just her light could chase away the memory people, the balls of colour that weren’t really there. When he was scared, her light could fill the whole entire room. She’d pick him up out of his crib and he’d be overcome with happy memories and calm and love. Even when she was fighting with his father, even when the angry darkness would tint the edges of her beautiful colour, she never projected that onto him. He knew unequivocally that his father hated him, didn’t understand him. But with just as much unfailing certainty, he knew his mother’s love was unconditional.
And tonight, on the first night of Chanukah, her love was everywhere. His father’s churning angry mass was gone. His mother filled the room with her light. He’d gotten to have sufganiyot for dinner. And he had a present. His mother picked him up from the dining room table and carried him into the living room. He hated to be touched, would scream and cry and fight it when it was anybody else. But it was nice when it was his mother. She sat on the couch with him and handed him a little box wrapped in shiny blue paper.
“It’s your first present, Bridgey.” He tore open the paper and found a box of colourful candles. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with them, but he was happy to get a present anyway. They made a neat noise when he shook the box. He was unwrapped from his mother’s warm yellow glow when she slid him off her lap and stood up. She opened the box and spread all the candles on the table in front of him.
“It’s just candles, but they’re yours and you get to choose each night. Pick two candles for the chanukiah!” she told him. He quickly sorted them by colour. There were lots of whites and blues, some reds, a few yellows, one orange. But there were two greens. Just two. She needed two and the green meant no colour would be alone. He picked up the two green candles and handed them to her.
He followed her to the big window at the front of the house. She had placed a table in front of it and there was a shiny silver menorah. He counted eight candlesticks with an extra really tall one standing above the others. There was a silver star at the base, six points, just like on the necklace his mother wore. She put one candle in the very tall holder and the other candle to the far right. She lit a match and it flared dimly, washed out by its proximity to his mother’s glow. She lit the tall candle.
“This is the shamash. We use it to light the other candles.” She picked it up and lit the other candle while saying a blessing. It was in Hebrew. Bridge liked when she spoke Hebrew. It was melodic and soothing. She held his hand tightly while she said a second and third blessing. He didn’t understand the words, but he knew it was special.
When she was finished, he stared in awe. The candles were so bright! The flames were small, but the light they gave was overpowering. The flickering flames made him think of his mother and it was the first time he’d seen anything that didn’t get swallowed by her light. They held their own against her glow. They were tiny, but he felt as if those little candles could light up the whole wide world and chase the darkness away. He was mesmerized. Bridge stood in front of the menorah, just watching the flames dance, until they burnt down and eventually sputtered out.
He felt his mother’s light surround him once again and he turned into a big hug. She held him close as she carried him upstairs to his bedroom.
“Did you have a good first night of Chanukah, baby?” she asked him softly as she tucked him into his crib. He wanted to tell her how wonderful it was, what the candles were like, but he had no words. He knew he was supposed to have worked that bit out by now, that he wasn’t like other kids his age. The words were in his head somewhere, but he hadn’t found them yet, hadn’t sorted his own out from everybody else’s. So he just snuggled down further under his blanket and let his eyes fall closed while his mother stroked his hair. She hummed softly as he drifted off to sleep.