Christmas jealousy and Hannukah magic.

When I turned on my computer this morning, the first thing I saw was a message from a Jewish organization warning of Christmas jealousy.

Well, Christmas is everywhere, from every aisle in every supermarket to the playlists of every radio station, and everything in between.

Could it be that the organization that sent me that e-mail is concerned that every Jew will spend the entire month staring longingly through the neighbors' windows at their glittering Christmas trees?

Christmas jealousy? That's a new one for me. Do not make me laugh. Christians should envy me on the twenty-fifth of December. I don't have to work, I watch as many sweet Hallmark tearjerkers as I want, and I celebrate my own heritage on top of that.

Being Jewish at Christmas is fun. Probably my aesthetic is based on what everyone likes: holidays and the seasonal pagan elements.

I like Christmas songs and carols, which, by the way, were often composed by Jews. And yes, I like happy tidings, as much as the next person regardless of their religious background. And best of all, even though most stores are closed on Christmas Day, Starbucks is open. So I think it's fair to say that Christmas is a holiday for Jews as well.

Well, in recent years a lot of fuss has been made about the real meaning of Christmas. Maybe I'm not taking the Christmas issue seriously enough. Many Jews blame me for that. They worry about buzzwords and assimilations. (and continuity)

Or maybe they are afraid that I have come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah. I make up for it by observing the Sabbath dutifully. (as a mitigating measure). And I can reassure my troubled fellow Jews that my merry Christmas isn't a step towards erasing... what, anyway?

It's the season to be jolly right? So let's keep it that way.

My most memorable Christmas was when I was about thirteen years old and traveled to Rome with my family to visit a distant uncle.

On Christmas Eve we dutifully trotted to one of the few open restaurants, in what used to be the ghetto. It was a great night and I learned there that being Jewish means living an ethical life, being intellectually curious, working for justice, and above all having a good sense of humor.

That evening, my uncle also told me how he and his family ended up in Italy. A romantic story about his parents. I never saw the good man again after that, but every year during the eight days of Hanukkah I think back on his story with pleasure and wonder.

His father had traveled from Hungary to Italy, losing his papers and credentials along the way. In other words, anything with which he could have proved his identity. Apparently, it sufficed the authorities at the time for him to tell them his name and that he was a Semite, from a remote region of Hungary.

He was tall and straight, with the most charming manners and a dashing air. He soon made friends in the Italian capital. Especially among women. His name was David, or at least that´s what he told everyone.

Esther was a waitress at Mr. Schwarz's coffee house. When she first saw him, she felt the blood rush to her face. When he gave her a tip and smiled at her, she feared she was going to faint. She was his biggest fan ever since.

Every time he came in for coffee, he sat there, alone at a table, staring into the void, like a man making big plans in his head. Esther's heart beat faster, and the world looked a little more colorful. She was a simple girl, but she was very charming and many men had already proposed to her. But Esther had promised herself never to marry.

But then there was Judith, Mr. Schwarz's daughter, who had never been proposed to. She was absolutely devoid of charm, had a repulsive voice, and besides, she was selfish and arrogant.

One day Esther saw Judith talking to David, and he couldn't take his eyes off her. In Esther's mind, she read that story, which is an open book between woman and woman. When she finished work that night, Esther hurried to her room and burst into tears.

The next day, after Esther served David coffee, she stood silently behind him, staring at him, burning with the desire to hit him on the head with her tray and shout: "I am the one who loves you."

Judith began to demand more and more of David's presence. Esther tormented herself with fantasies about David and Judith and what they were doing out of the sight of prying eyes. How they kissed and caressed to their heart's content. These thoughts were unbearable to Esther.

A month later, Judith announced that she was going to marry David. Esther had to hurry to her room so as not to burst into tears on the spot: she was too proud for that.

A few days later, Esther began to notice a change in David's demeanor. He had begun to look concerned. 

He only came to the coffee house late at night and sat there alone drinking coffee and thinking. Esther´s shift was over and allowed to go home, but because David was there, she continued to work well past midnight.

David rarely spoke to her. He probably didn't even notice Esther. But in Esther's mind, there was an intimacy between them. But that intimacy she imagined consisted of nothing more than her devotion: she passed her time with a shadow.

Esther longed to talk to David, to beg him to confide in her.

What was he worried about anyway? Was it money? Esther had lived a frugal life, saving most of her earnings. She had never trusted her money to a bank. She had kept it all in a suitcase in her bedroom, and he would be welcome there.

Esther became saddened to see that gloom on David’s face that had dispelled his smile. But he kept brooding in silence, and Esther kept groping in the dark.

Sometimes David did not show up at the coffee house at all. Judith had told Esther he was out of town on business.

That night, a newcomer from Hungary came to the coffee house. He was very friendly to Esther and even complimented her hair because it reminded him of the girls of his village. He gave her a royal tip when he left. The next evening, he came back, and they had a nice chat. And then he started asking her all kinds of strange questions: did she happen to know a young man, tall, quite handsome, with black eyes and curly hair who was immensely popular with the girls? He asked it all casually, but it made Esther nervous.

It is whispered that love develops a sixth sense. Esther quickly understood that this man was not looking for a friend, but an enemy. She could feel it. She was sure of it.

Esther assured the stranger that she had never seen such a man.

That evening, the feast of Hannukah began. The only celebration where the prayer psalms were omitted, lest they disturb the joy of the holiday. It was Esther's duty to light the candles in the living room. 

On the eighth day, the sun set quickly, but daylight lingered in the sky. Esther felt anxious and nervous. Each day she had hurriedly lit the candles, then gone out into the street hoping to see David and warn him.

Light-footed, she ran up the stairs to light the eight candles in the Hannukah menorah in the living room. The door was open. In a corner sat David, his back turned to her. He was kneeling in front of a desk where Mr. Schwarz kept his money.

Esther recoiled in shock. It became clear to her that David was a thief. She had always suspected something was not right, but she loved him anyway, and at that moment, she adored him more than ever.

Esther was an honest girl. She came from a lengthy line of very honest people. But that evening she was not interested in honesty. She hurried to David's side. Excitedly, she whispered where he could find the key, but that he did not have to do this. She had money and she would gladly give it to him. She also told him that a man from Hungary was looking for him.

-"Take my money and run!" she said.

If a bolt of lightning had fallen from the ceiling, David could not have been more surprised. Stunned, he stared at Esther. He feared he was dreaming and ran his hands over his eyes.

-"Esther?" he asked with a world of wonder in his voice.

-"You can't stay here." she gasped. "They're looking for you. You have to leave now."

David did not understand and asked what all this meant. A faintness came over Esther.

-"Why are you doing this?" David asked. But Esther's system began to tremble with sobs. David walked over and ever so carefully he turned her head to the light in the hallway.

-"In God's name, get out of here." she cried.

David walked to the door.

-"Wait!" Esther cried pitifully, "I'll go get my money.

-"Esther,” David whispered, "my mother has passed away, but she blesses you from heaven. He kissed her on her forehead and walked resolutely out of the room. On the stairs, he stood for a minute and then continued into the beautifully lit cafe.

He recognized the man instantly. He had never seen him before, but his unerring instincts pointed out his pursuer with certainty.

-"Okay, when are we leaving?" David asked.

The man stared at him thoughtfully for a moment, then his face lit up:

-"With the next boat."

David nodded.

"Come upstairs first," David said with a moment's hesitation. Without saying a word, the man followed him. They found Esther, pale as a ghost, near the chimney, lighting the eighth candle. When she saw David with that man, she wanted to scream.

-"Listen." he said, "I have to go back. I must go to prison, but I can get out in about three years, and then I will come back for you!"

A tumult of joy ran through Esther's veins.

And he did. David came back. And to cut a long story short because I digressed quite a bit: they lived happily ever after.

Ah yes... a hallmark moment from the family history. Every Hannukah I have to take a moment to think about this story. It is an almost unconventional, conventional love story...

Where was I? Oh yes, Christmas!

Christmas, Hannukah; somehow, it is a bit the same for me. Or at least its message. And I believe Christmas is a day for Jews to wallow in differences without feeling threatened (As is often the case around Easter.) 

An identity holiday, so to speak. In the worst case a wild ride in an amusement park, or a consumer experience that will make your credit cry weep. Isn't that exactly what Christians fear?

With a little goodwill, we can all lighten things up together. And while we all grieve the excess calorie intake after Christmas, maybe we can spend a few thoughts on our similarities instead of our differences - and the substance of it all... and treasure it.

That is almost religious, isn't it?

Merry Christmas!

Chag Hanukkah Sameach!

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