"I don't believe a person needs to get involved with helping other people. One's duty is to be with one's family. I know what it says about loving one's fellow Jew and all that, but when one has children, that should be our sole concern. We haven't got time for anything else. We work hard enough as it is."
Shoshana looked at her friends to see if they agreed with her. Several of them nodded.
"You're right," said Rita emphatically. "These things just interfere with family life. We can't be expected to get involved with strangers, even if they are Jews. There are plenty of friends and family who need our attention completely."
The Shul Ladies committee meeting had gone on too long already, and Dina was somewhat stunned at the strong reaction she had received to her suggestion that perhaps they should become more involved in helping Jews who had distanced themselves from their Jewish roots.
She tried to put her point across more forcefully:
"How can you say that?" she asked. "One has to help a fellow Jew. There are so many people in our area who have no idea what Yiddishkeit is all about. Even if we just helped them a little; opened our homes to them on Shabbos or something. We could even start basic shiurim for them. How can we ignore a problem when we see it right under our noses? We can do that and still care completely for our families."
"You aren't being very realistic, Dina," said Esther. "Where would you find the time? Time is precious and there just isn't enough of it. We have to devote it to where our responsibilities lie, and they lie with the family. You can't neglect the family to go and help other people." "I never said neglect," said Dina. "Heaven forbid you should neglect those closest to you. But one should always keep some time to give to others."
Dina was silent for a few moments but she smiled when she saw several other women nodding at her encouragingly. She had meant what she said and hoped she would never change, regardless of Shoshana's stinging comment.
"I think we should all think about going home," said Beverly. "I need to get more oil for the chanukiah. We have nearly run out of it and there are eight candles tonight; besides which, I am having people for supper and I am sure we all have a lot to do."
Still discussing this, they all dispersed.
Dina glanced at her shopping list. Yes, she would have time to get those few things before the children came home from school. The meeting had ended somewhat early and she would even have a few minutes to spare. She was soon looking through a shop window, admiring some kitchenware which she was sure she would not be able to afford for at least a couple of years. Perhaps it was the decorations in the window which made it look so good. She strained her eyes to look at the price.
"Grandpa, look at how beautiful it is," said a small voice beside her which Dina soon saw belonged to a red-haired child, possibly about eight or nine. The girl had pressed her nose to the window to see more clearly. "It is such a beautiful tree, Grandpa. Look at all the colored lights flickering on and off, and Grandpa, look at the silver star at the top and all the shiny jewels all over. Grandpa, it is so exciting. Cheryl and Marilyn have invited me tomorrow to share their tree with them. Grandpa, why won't you let me go? They have presents underneath it and everything. I don't understand why I can't go. Lots of the other Jewish girls have gone."
"Sandy," he said softly. "Sandy, we are Jewish."
"I know we are, but so are the other Jewish girls who have gone. Their parents don't mind."
"Have your parents ever let you go?" he asked.
"No, they haven't, but I have never been really invited before. Please, Grandpa, it is so exciting, this holiday. We never had anything like that. Some of my Jewish friends at home have trees and their mothers don't mind. Why can't I go? Please, please, Grandpa."
"What about Chanukah?" asked the man. "We used to have a Chanukah menorah when I was young," he said. "I am not sure exactly when Chanukah is, but it should be round about this time. We always lit candles."
"But Grandpa, that was in the olden days. No one does that now."
The man was about to reply when Dina, almost to her own surprise, found herself speaking:
"Excuse me for overhearing, but it so happens that tonight is the last night of Chanukah," she said. "We would just love it if you would join us for supper and for lighting the menorah."
"Thank you," said the man, "but my son and daughter-in-law will be back, Sandy and Kevin's parents, and of course there is my wife. It would be totally impossible."
But Sandy had other ideas. "Grandpa!" she said "Grandpa! You and I could go. Please Grandpa. If you won't let me go to my friends' house tomorrow, at least please let me go tonight. I have never even seen a Chanukah menorah before. Maybe I can just go." She looked from her Grandpa to Dina imploringly.
"But we don't even know..." began the man.
Doubtfully, the man took the paper from Sandy and put it in his pocket. Dina continued on to do her shopping, adding several things to her list in case the family accepted the invitation. Shoshana's words were beginning to echo through her mind. Why had she invited them? She wouldn't have the time to spend with her family. It was the last day of Chanukah, a time when families should be together. Her husband would be telling the children stories and hearing what they had to contribute from their learning.
But it did say, didn't it, that Chanukah was a time when one had to spread the miracle outward. But again, in her mind, she would hear Shoshana's voice ... what about spreading the miracle inwards, to one's family? That was her primary responsibility, wasn't it? Well, wasn't it? But even though she had her doubts, she knew it wasn't just lip service like Shoshana said. It was important to reach out to others and she was actually doing something about it.
Anyway, it was hardly likely that the family would even come. They might not even phone. But she could not get out of her mind the sound of that little voice, a little lost Jewish voice, begging her grandfather to allow her to celebrate Xmas with her friends. Yes! she had done the right thing. But who were these people? She didn't even know their names.
Dina had always loved Chanukah and was determined to make the last night very special. She had cooked many latkes and they only had to be fried a little more before serving. Was she really going to have so many guests? They would be eating latkes till next week if they didn't contact her.
Irritability flashed through her. It was getting late and they hadn't even phoned. How could she be standing here making all this extra food when these people would not even arrive, not even have the courtesy to phone. She suddenly remembered the morning's conversation and Shoshana's stabbing words, as well as her own. She caught herself quickly.
Pushing any negative thoughts out of her mind, she prepared the extra salads and started to roast the extra chickens.
Where was that phone call? At least if she knew they weren't coming... As if on cue, the phone rang. The man, sounding somewhat apologetic, was speaking. "Mrs. Segal," he said, "it will be all seven of us. Can you accommodate seven of us? We are really very excited about it..."
She was amazed at the enthusiasm of her family. From the youngest to the oldest child, they had responded wholeheartedly to the family who had, apart from the grandfather, never ever experienced Chanukah, had probably never seen a Chanukah menorah, and who had never been told about the miracle of Chanukah.
She watched with a great deal of satisfaction as she saw one of her sons explaining to Kevin every detail of the festival with an intensity which he certainly had never shown when he was giving over to the family what he had learned in school. True, they were spreading the miracle outwards, but in a very deep way she realized that they were spreading it inwards too. Every member of her family was being affected. She looked into the Chanukah lights and as usual she felt herself transported, as it were, into another world. It seemed to her as if time stood still as she became absorbed in another miracle of Chanukah.
Mrs. R. Barney is a writer and frequent contributor to The Jewish Homemaker.