Chanukah night 3
Title: Chanukah, Night 3
Fandom: Power Rangers SPD
Rating: K/G/general audience
Summary: In the Holiday Series. Third of eight fics for Chanukah.
Disclaimer: not mine, alas.
Friday December 3, 2010
Six years old
It was tradition more than anything these days, but just like every other night from every Chanukah he’d ever had, Bridge stood and watched the candles burn. He was still mesmerized, even if now he knew they weren’t really like his mother at all. He’d moved to the couch tonight, leaning over the side to get a good view. They were lasting extra long because it was Shabbat and the third night of Chanukah at the same time. So on top of the candles in the chanukiah, he was also watching the two thick white Shabbat candles burn down. They were almost out now.
There was a knock at the door and Bridge jumped off the couch, racing around the tv stand. He turned the knob but stopped himself. He was supposed to ask who was there first, especially now that he couldn’t feel them before they got there.
“Who is it?” he yelled through the door. His mother came in from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel.
“It’s Rabbi Gordon,” the deep voice of his rabbi boomed. He threw open the door and launched himself at the rabbi’s legs before he could even step into the house. He could hear his mother chuckle, but he couldn’t help himself. The rabbi was so nice and he liked being around him. He couldn’t help but give him a hug.
“Can I come in?” the rabbi asked and Bridge let him go, backing up into the house. The rabbi followed him and kissed his mother on her cheeks.
“Shabbat shalom, Hannah,” he said.
“Shabbat shalom, Rabbi, and chag sameach. I was just cleaning up from dinner. Would you like some latkes? They’re still warm,” she asked. He nodded and she smiled. “Please, make yourself at home,” she said, gesturing to the couch. Bridge had climbed back up and was leaning over the side again. The Chanukah candles had flickered out, but the two Shabbat candles still had little white stubs of wax waiting to finish.
“I came to see you tonight, Bridge,” the rabbi said, interrupting his thoughts. Bridge’s mother returned with a plate of latkes, putting them on the coffee table. She sat down and gave a warning look to her son.
“Did Bridge do something wrong at Tot Shabbat tonight, Rabbi?” she asked.
“Oh, no, no nothing like that. Bridge was fine tonight. No, this is about something he said during our lesson on Wednesday.” Rabbi Gordon tried to be reassuring, but Bridge could tell his mother didn’t buy it. He really had been good though, as good as he could be, but it was so hard to sit still when all the other kids were just exuding energy and excitement. He sat back next to Rabbi Gordon and looked up. He liked the Rabbi. His hair was wild like Bridge’s, though it was curly and dark. He had thick glasses, and the roundest, happiest face Bridge had ever seen. And he was the most vibrant shade of violet when Bridge had to take a glove off around him. It was inspiring, seeing the violet just radiate off him in waves. It made Bridge want to work harder, learn more.
“Is there a problem?” his mother asked again. She was leaning forward in her chair and though he couldn’t feel it, Bridge knew she was worried. He’d had so many problems for so long now. He couldn’t even be in the Hebrew school classes anymore. The teachers couldn’t handle his special needs and odd manner and he’d been asked, politely, to not return, even to the baby Aleph class. The Rabbi had to teach him on his own now.
“Well, we moved into the library this week. Bridge said it was easier to focus without the… oh… what did you call them?”
“Memory people. There’s too many of them in your office.” Rabbi Gordon nodded and Bridge’s mother quirked an eyebrow. He shrugged. He couldn’t help it if there were too many people in the office. Or that used to be in the office. It was hard to tell sometimes.
“Yes, the memory people. Well, we moved to the library where there are no memory people and Bridge… had a bit of a breakthrough. He was looking at the books and confided something in me. Do you remember what you said, Bridge?” he asked. Bridge looked down at his hands. He thought rabbis weren’t supposed to tell people things you told them and he didn’t want his mom to be upset. He felt her eyes on him and nodded, but he wouldn’t speak. Rabbi Gordon put a hand on his shoulder and spoke for him instead.
“He told me he’s tired of being different, that he wants to be just like everybody else.” He moved to stroke Bridge’s hair and it made Bridge want to curl up in a little ball in his lap. He heard his mother’s breath hitch, but he couldn’t bear to look at her and know he’d made her sad. Rabbi Gordon continued. “I thought about it for a bit since my usual advice wouldn’t quite work with such a special little boy. Tonight’s sermon really summed up everything I want you to understand, Bridge, so I had to come right over and tell you all about it. Would you like to hear my story?” Bridge looked up and nodded. He definitely wanted to hear this.
“Do you know the story of Chanukah?” he asked. Bridge nodded again. He spoke this time.
“King Antiochus made a law so that the Jews couldn’t worship how they wanted to anymore. Lots of people stopped talking to G-d, but some of them didn’t. He killed the ones who didn’t, but some of them survived and hid in the hills. They decided to fight back and formed an army led by Judah Maccabee. Judah and the other Jews fought for three long years, even though their army was really small and the king had huge armies, but they finally won. They took back the Temple and got it all cleaned up, but when they did, they found only one jug of oil. They needed to light the menorah but one jug wasn’t enough. It would only burn for one day. They wouldn’t have time to make more oil and that took eight days. Somebody went out to make oil and they lit the menorah anyway. Miraculously, the oil burnt for eight whole days and nights, just long enough for more oil to be made. And that’s why we celebrate for eight nights.” His mother looked proud and the Rabbi looked impressed. He liked it when people were impressed with him.
“Very good. But there’s a more important lesson than the oil burning for eight days. There is the real meaning of Chanukah. Do you know what it is?” Bridge thought about it for a minute but couldn’t figure it out. He just knew about the oil. He shook his head.
“My story for you is the first part of the Chanukah story. It’s the most important part. It’s not about oil or Temples or miracles. It’s about being different. You see, King Antiochus didn’t make laws against being Jewish because it was good for the country. He made laws against being Jewish because we were different. King Antiochus didn’t like different. He didn’t understand it. So it scared him. And in order to deal with that, he made laws against it.” Bridge kind of understood. He knew people feared things they didn’t understand. It’s why so many people were mean of him.
“Some people went along with it. They were afraid to be different, so they changed themselves just to fit in. Do you think that made them very happy, Bridge?” Rabbi Gordon asked. Bridge shook his head hard.
“You can’t change who you are. If you try, it’s like a lie and that makes your insides sad,” he said. His mother smiled, trying to suppress a chuckle.
“You’re absolutely right. The people who went along with the law and stopped reading Torah weren’t very happy with themselves. It was hard to change just because somebody else wanted them too. But there were others. There were other people who didn’t want to change.”
“Judah Maccabee!” Bridge cried out, bouncing up to sit on his knees.
“Yes! Judah and his brothers and their father, as well as lots of other people from the city. They didn’t want to stop being different. They were proud of who they were, proud to be Jewish. They liked being different. Because they knew something the rest of the city didn’t.” Bridge looked confused. What secret could they know? It wasn’t in any of the stories he’d ever heard.
“They knew that everybody was different. No one person is the same as another, not in the way they think or the things they like. Everybody is different somehow. And that’s okay. It’s good to be different. It makes you special, makes you unique. Being different makes you who you are. Judah Maccabee knew it. And he fought for it. He was happy he was different and he wasn’t going to give that up. So he fought. And he won. He won the right to be himself. That’s what Chanukah is really about, Bridge. It’s about being different and being proud of it.” Realization dawned on Bridge. It all made sense now.
“So… I’m okay, just the way I am?” he asked quietly. Rabbi Gordon nodded.
“Bridge, you are perfect, just the way you are. You are the best you there ever could be. Be proud of it.” Bridge wrapped him in a tight hug. He understood now. He was different, but that was okay. He was like Judah Maccabee. And he would always be proud of it. He wouldn’t try to fit in. He’d be himself, no matter what.
Rabbi Gordon gave him the best present that night; a sense of self worth.
Fandom: Power Rangers SPD
Rating: K/G/general audience
Summary: In the Holiday Series. Third of eight fics for Chanukah.
Disclaimer: not mine, alas.
Friday December 3, 2010
Six years old
It was tradition more than anything these days, but just like every other night from every Chanukah he’d ever had, Bridge stood and watched the candles burn. He was still mesmerized, even if now he knew they weren’t really like his mother at all. He’d moved to the couch tonight, leaning over the side to get a good view. They were lasting extra long because it was Shabbat and the third night of Chanukah at the same time. So on top of the candles in the chanukiah, he was also watching the two thick white Shabbat candles burn down. They were almost out now.
There was a knock at the door and Bridge jumped off the couch, racing around the tv stand. He turned the knob but stopped himself. He was supposed to ask who was there first, especially now that he couldn’t feel them before they got there.
“Who is it?” he yelled through the door. His mother came in from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel.
“It’s Rabbi Gordon,” the deep voice of his rabbi boomed. He threw open the door and launched himself at the rabbi’s legs before he could even step into the house. He could hear his mother chuckle, but he couldn’t help himself. The rabbi was so nice and he liked being around him. He couldn’t help but give him a hug.
“Can I come in?” the rabbi asked and Bridge let him go, backing up into the house. The rabbi followed him and kissed his mother on her cheeks.
“Shabbat shalom, Hannah,” he said.
“Shabbat shalom, Rabbi, and chag sameach. I was just cleaning up from dinner. Would you like some latkes? They’re still warm,” she asked. He nodded and she smiled. “Please, make yourself at home,” she said, gesturing to the couch. Bridge had climbed back up and was leaning over the side again. The Chanukah candles had flickered out, but the two Shabbat candles still had little white stubs of wax waiting to finish.
“I came to see you tonight, Bridge,” the rabbi said, interrupting his thoughts. Bridge’s mother returned with a plate of latkes, putting them on the coffee table. She sat down and gave a warning look to her son.
“Did Bridge do something wrong at Tot Shabbat tonight, Rabbi?” she asked.
“Oh, no, no nothing like that. Bridge was fine tonight. No, this is about something he said during our lesson on Wednesday.” Rabbi Gordon tried to be reassuring, but Bridge could tell his mother didn’t buy it. He really had been good though, as good as he could be, but it was so hard to sit still when all the other kids were just exuding energy and excitement. He sat back next to Rabbi Gordon and looked up. He liked the Rabbi. His hair was wild like Bridge’s, though it was curly and dark. He had thick glasses, and the roundest, happiest face Bridge had ever seen. And he was the most vibrant shade of violet when Bridge had to take a glove off around him. It was inspiring, seeing the violet just radiate off him in waves. It made Bridge want to work harder, learn more.
“Is there a problem?” his mother asked again. She was leaning forward in her chair and though he couldn’t feel it, Bridge knew she was worried. He’d had so many problems for so long now. He couldn’t even be in the Hebrew school classes anymore. The teachers couldn’t handle his special needs and odd manner and he’d been asked, politely, to not return, even to the baby Aleph class. The Rabbi had to teach him on his own now.
“Well, we moved into the library this week. Bridge said it was easier to focus without the… oh… what did you call them?”
“Memory people. There’s too many of them in your office.” Rabbi Gordon nodded and Bridge’s mother quirked an eyebrow. He shrugged. He couldn’t help it if there were too many people in the office. Or that used to be in the office. It was hard to tell sometimes.
“Yes, the memory people. Well, we moved to the library where there are no memory people and Bridge… had a bit of a breakthrough. He was looking at the books and confided something in me. Do you remember what you said, Bridge?” he asked. Bridge looked down at his hands. He thought rabbis weren’t supposed to tell people things you told them and he didn’t want his mom to be upset. He felt her eyes on him and nodded, but he wouldn’t speak. Rabbi Gordon put a hand on his shoulder and spoke for him instead.
“He told me he’s tired of being different, that he wants to be just like everybody else.” He moved to stroke Bridge’s hair and it made Bridge want to curl up in a little ball in his lap. He heard his mother’s breath hitch, but he couldn’t bear to look at her and know he’d made her sad. Rabbi Gordon continued. “I thought about it for a bit since my usual advice wouldn’t quite work with such a special little boy. Tonight’s sermon really summed up everything I want you to understand, Bridge, so I had to come right over and tell you all about it. Would you like to hear my story?” Bridge looked up and nodded. He definitely wanted to hear this.
“Do you know the story of Chanukah?” he asked. Bridge nodded again. He spoke this time.
“King Antiochus made a law so that the Jews couldn’t worship how they wanted to anymore. Lots of people stopped talking to G-d, but some of them didn’t. He killed the ones who didn’t, but some of them survived and hid in the hills. They decided to fight back and formed an army led by Judah Maccabee. Judah and the other Jews fought for three long years, even though their army was really small and the king had huge armies, but they finally won. They took back the Temple and got it all cleaned up, but when they did, they found only one jug of oil. They needed to light the menorah but one jug wasn’t enough. It would only burn for one day. They wouldn’t have time to make more oil and that took eight days. Somebody went out to make oil and they lit the menorah anyway. Miraculously, the oil burnt for eight whole days and nights, just long enough for more oil to be made. And that’s why we celebrate for eight nights.” His mother looked proud and the Rabbi looked impressed. He liked it when people were impressed with him.
“Very good. But there’s a more important lesson than the oil burning for eight days. There is the real meaning of Chanukah. Do you know what it is?” Bridge thought about it for a minute but couldn’t figure it out. He just knew about the oil. He shook his head.
“My story for you is the first part of the Chanukah story. It’s the most important part. It’s not about oil or Temples or miracles. It’s about being different. You see, King Antiochus didn’t make laws against being Jewish because it was good for the country. He made laws against being Jewish because we were different. King Antiochus didn’t like different. He didn’t understand it. So it scared him. And in order to deal with that, he made laws against it.” Bridge kind of understood. He knew people feared things they didn’t understand. It’s why so many people were mean of him.
“Some people went along with it. They were afraid to be different, so they changed themselves just to fit in. Do you think that made them very happy, Bridge?” Rabbi Gordon asked. Bridge shook his head hard.
“You can’t change who you are. If you try, it’s like a lie and that makes your insides sad,” he said. His mother smiled, trying to suppress a chuckle.
“You’re absolutely right. The people who went along with the law and stopped reading Torah weren’t very happy with themselves. It was hard to change just because somebody else wanted them too. But there were others. There were other people who didn’t want to change.”
“Judah Maccabee!” Bridge cried out, bouncing up to sit on his knees.
“Yes! Judah and his brothers and their father, as well as lots of other people from the city. They didn’t want to stop being different. They were proud of who they were, proud to be Jewish. They liked being different. Because they knew something the rest of the city didn’t.” Bridge looked confused. What secret could they know? It wasn’t in any of the stories he’d ever heard.
“They knew that everybody was different. No one person is the same as another, not in the way they think or the things they like. Everybody is different somehow. And that’s okay. It’s good to be different. It makes you special, makes you unique. Being different makes you who you are. Judah Maccabee knew it. And he fought for it. He was happy he was different and he wasn’t going to give that up. So he fought. And he won. He won the right to be himself. That’s what Chanukah is really about, Bridge. It’s about being different and being proud of it.” Realization dawned on Bridge. It all made sense now.
“So… I’m okay, just the way I am?” he asked quietly. Rabbi Gordon nodded.
“Bridge, you are perfect, just the way you are. You are the best you there ever could be. Be proud of it.” Bridge wrapped him in a tight hug. He understood now. He was different, but that was okay. He was like Judah Maccabee. And he would always be proud of it. He wouldn’t try to fit in. He’d be himself, no matter what.
Rabbi Gordon gave him the best present that night; a sense of self worth.