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Happy Hanukkah: A Personal Lesson in Dedication

by Amy Mumper -- Being Savvy Cincinnati

As I think I've mentioned before , I haven't had a whole lot of personal experience with Hanukkah. But, I'm inspired by its meaning, the hope it gives to the Jewish people and the incredible fortitude it brings to mind for each of us.  If you'll allow me to share a personal story of admiration and courage, please read on.

   I've grown up and lived in the same, very homogeneous community for just about my whole life.  I did go away to college (at first) and I did broaden my horizons considerably, if I do say so myself.  As an adult, I realize that I live and have lived for years surprisingly close to a large Jewish community.  In fact, at the grocery store a mile down the street, my kids and I navigate the very large Kosher section and discuss the symbolism of the Yarmulke. 

   After college, I came back to the same community I grew up in and began teaching fourth grade.  Ironically, I began to teach about diversity in that very homogeneous town I mentioned.  On the surface, it seemed difficult to do, but children have an amazing curiosity of all things not their own.  We read The Number on My Grandfather's Arm , Number the Stars , An Amish Christmas, Seven Days of Kwanzaa and various books about Ramadan -  The students absorbed every foreign detail with eager aptitude.

   Then, another fourth grade teacher was hired and my life was changed.

   My friend Julie and I bonded over long car rides to grad school classes and even longer discussions about the differences between Judiasm and Christianity.  (She still teases me about being my only Jewish friend!)  Next came weddings and babies and more bonding still.  The most touching lesson I received from Julie was a strong, silent lesson from the family's matriarch, Julie's grandmother, Fela.

   I had heard Julie tell of her survival at Auschwitz.  I had even studied the second World War, visited the Anne Frank house in Amsterdam and Dachau, in Munich.  I thought I "got it".  But the day I sang Happy Birthday to Julie's little girl, Julie's grandmother Fela was standing in front of me.  She also sang to her great granddaughter.  And, as she did, she nonchalantly held her hands behind her back.  It was then that I saw it:  the number on Fela's arm.  I felt it, too:  the humbling awe of someone who had lived through true hardship.  And survived... Survived to sing Happy Birthday to her great granddaughter... Survived to bring her granddaughter Julie to me as an amazing friend and confidante. 

   And, although I quit teaching at that school nearly 5 years ago, Julie continues to be a very dear, dear friend.  Over time, her mother and father have shown such tender, genuine generosity and kindness that I am humbled to know their amazing family unit; the family unit Fela left to carry on her strength.

   I'm so grateful for my glimpses of the beautiful Jewish traditions through my friend and her lovely family.

   May you be inspired by those close to you.  Happy Hanukkah.