Dear friends,
Many years ago—I don’t recall the exact year but I was still in my teens—my siblings and I were thrilled about the prospect of a winter vacation to the island of Barbados. The warmth, the sun, and the water promised an exciting experience. We were especially excited because Hanukkah would commence on the third night of our stay.
Upon our arrival, we unpacked our belongings and only then did we realize that we had forgotten our Hanukkah menorah. My father noticed our disappointment and reassured us, saying, “Don’t worry, we’ll create the most unique menorah ever.”
For the next three days, we eagerly anticipated what our father had in mind, but he remained tight-lipped about it. On the third day, late in the afternoon, he announced, “Let’s head back to the beach.”
Having spent the entire day there, we were perplexed but decided to follow our father’s lead. When we reached the beach, he declared, “It’s time for Hanukkah.” With that, he retrieved the candles and ten empty plastic containers that had held the orange juice concentrate we had been drinking each morning. Each container had a hole in the bottom just large enough to accommodate a candle. He arranged eight of the containers in a row on the sand and placed the remaining two containers on top of each other, doubling their height and placing them in the center to serve as the Shamash.
“Now, that’s a menorah!” he exclaimed with triumph. We lit the candles, recited the blessings, and listened to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach.
As I think about that vacation, I realize that my father’s creativity embodied one of the fundamental reasons our people have endured for millennia. While it’s wonderful to have beautiful buildings and ritual items—what our tradition refers to as hidur mitzvah/beautifying a ritual—Judaism can be observed anywhere, anytime, and with whatever resources are available. This flexibility has enabled us to maintain Jewish lives even in the most challenging circumstances.
I was delighted when, the following year, we remembered to bring our menorah when we returned to Barbados. However, the lesson my father imparted that day was that, ultimately, it’s not the location or the ritual objects that impart meaning; it’s the people involved.
Shabbat Shalom and Happy Hanukkah,
Rabbi Daniel Cohen