NOTE TO MYSELF: SMALL ACTS CAN LEAVE BIG IMPRESSIONS
As a youngster, Christmas was somewhat of a demoralizing time of the year. Since our family was of the Jewish faith, we celebrated the holiday of Chanukah, which didn't seem to me to be half as exciting as the furor that went along with trimming a tree.
On occasion Chanukah fell during the same period as Christmas and somehow I couldn't work up as much enthusiasm for lighting a candle even if it was colored, as my friends seemed to experience placing ornaments on the branches of their trees.
It was difficult for me to accept that a tree even a miniature one was out of the question, in spite of reminders that people of the Jewish faith don’t celebrate Christmas. Even the protestations that we could call it a Chanukah bush, it was obvious that there was no way a fir tree would be part of our celebrations.
Traditionally at Chanukah, children receive gifts of gelt or money and light small colored candles in a hanukiah (candelabra) one per night for the eight days of the holiday. While this was nice, in my mind it didn't measure up to all the excitement related to the "other" holiday.
At Hebrew school we always celebrated the various holidays, big and small and Chanukah was a particular favorite especially since our class, being the eldest students, entertained the residents of a senior’s home. Each year the teacher would select eight students to sing and perform to play the role of Chanukah candles with fierce competition for the part of the shamash or lead candle.
Not being blessed with a good singing voice and barely able to carry a tune, I knew that my chances were slim at best to play any candle, never mind the lead candle. My biggest rival was Zelig, who had the voice and promise of a future opera singer. Not only did he have the best singing voice, he was also the top student scholastically. He was also the teacher's pet. Whenever games were played for prizes during the holidays, Zelig won everything, which didn't exactly ingratiate him with the other students. Actually, we were all jealous and would have liked nothing better than for his voice to change in the middle of a concert.
Class auditions for candle parts were held a few weeks before the onset of the holiday and at best, the most I could hope for was a minor part and even then, only if the rest of the students had an off day or laryngitis. Each student auditioned for the teacher and as expected, Zelig got the lead role, which irritated me no end.
My resentment was eased somewhat by being assigned the role of a minor candle, probably out of pity more than anything else. Those students not chosen became part of the chorus singing "tra-la-las" at the appropriate time.
Excitement was at a fever pitch when we arrived at the seniors' home, ready to perform for a live audience who were, for the most part, in wheelchairs. They were brought into the auditorium where we were lined up on stage, anxious to perform.
Glancing around the room, many of the seniors appeared half asleep.
"You will be entertained today!" their nurses might have insisted as they wheeled them into the room before our arrival.
The first students opened the concert and sang well and those who followed performed admirably. Finally, it was my turn. My voice didn't fail me and I felt very proud of my accomplishment.
When Zelig opened his mouth it was like a chorus of angels had entered the room. His voice was strong and melodic and suddenly the seniors perked up, smiles on their faces in obvious appreciation of what they heard. When the last notes of his solo faded away, they all clapped appreciatively.
The musical recital was over and we performed a variety of Israeli dances, moving off the stage to mingle among our audience. Although Israeli dancing was a passion, I was consumed with the memory of the applause and accolades bestowed upon Zelig.
After our presentation and some refreshments, an elderly woman in a wheel chair came over to talk to me. She smiled, her trembling hand gently covering mine.
"Thank you," she uttered weakly and breathlessly. "You were all wonderful. How special you are to visit us!"
There was the sudden realization that it wasn't important who the lead candle was or who had the best voice. It was significant to our audience that we had taken the time to come at all.
It wasn't long after our successful performance that Zelig's voice finally broke and he never knew whether he would sing soprano or alto. Tough luck for him. My voice on the other hand, never changed and could always be depended on to sing off-key.
Showing posts with label Chanukah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chanukah. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Sunday, December 14, 2008
A Shining Light
NOTE TO SELF: CHANUKAH CONCERT TAUGHT ME THAT ALL CANDLES CAN CAST A GLOW
BY ELEANOR TYLBOR
As a youngster, Christmas was somewhat of a demoralizing time of the year. Since our family was of the Jewish faith, we celebrated the holiday of Chanukah, which didn't seem to me to be half as exciting as the furor that went along with trimming a tree.
On occasion Chanukah fell during the same period as Christmas and somehow I couldn't work up as much enthusiasm for lighting a candle even if it was colored, as my friends seemed to experience placing ornaments on the branches of their trees.
Even though my parents explained time and time again that Jewish people don't celebrate Christmas, which meant that a tree even a miniature one was out of the question, it was difficult for me to accept. In spite of protestations that we could call it a Chanukah bush, it was obvious that there was no way a fir tree would be part of our celebrations.
Traditionally at Chanukah, children receive gifts of gelt or money and light small colored candles in a menorah (candelabra), one per night for the eight days of the holiday. While that was nice, in my mind it didn't measure up to all the excitement connected to the "other" holiday.
At Hebrew school we always celebrated the various holidays, big and small, and Chanukah was a particular favorite especially since our class, being the eldest students, entertained the residents of a seniors home. Each year the teacher would select eight students to sing and perform as Chanukah candles and competition was fierce for the part of lead candle.
Since I wasn't blessed with a good singing voice – I could barely carry a tune – I knew that my chances were slim at best to play any candle, never mind the lead candle. My biggest rival was Zelig, who had the voice and promise of a future opera singer. Not only did he have the best singing voice, he was also the top student scholastically. Plus he was also the teacher's pet. Whenever games were played for prizes during the holidays, Zelig won everything, which didn't exactly ingratiate him with the other students. Actually, we were all jealous and would have liked nothing better than for his voice to change in the middle of a concert.
Class auditions for candle parts were held a few weeks before the onset of the holiday and the best I could hope for was a minor part and even then, only if the rest of the students had an off day or laryngitis. Each student auditioned for the teacher and as expected, Zelig got the lead role, which irritated me no end.
My resentment was eased somewhat by being assigned the role of a minor candle, probably out of pity more than anything else. Those students not chosen became part of the chorus singing "tra-la-las" at the appropriate time.
Excitement was at a fever pitch when we arrived at the seniors' home, ready to perform for a live audience who were, for the most part, in wheelchairs. They were brought into the auditorium where we were lined up on stage, anxious to perform.
Glancing around the room, many of the seniors appeared half asleep.
"You will be entertained today!" their nurses might have insisted as they wheeled them into the room.
The first students opened the concert and sang well and those who followed performed admirably. Finally, it was my turn. My voice didn't fail me and I felt very proud of my accomplishment.
Zelig opened his mouth and it was like a chorus of angels had entered the room. His voice was strong and melodic and suddenly the seniors perked up, smiles on their faces in obvious appreciation of what they heard. When the last notes of his solo faded away, they all clapped appreciatively.
The musical recital was over and we performed a variety of Israeli dances, moving off the stage to mingle among our audience. Although Israeli dancing was a passion, I was consumed with the memory of the applause and accolades bestowed upon Zelig.
After our presentation and some refreshments, an elderly woman wheeled over to talk to me. She smiled, her trembling hand gently covering mine.
"Thank you," she uttered weakly and breathlessly. "You were all wonderful. How special you are to visit us!"
There was the sudden realization that it wasn't important who the lead candle was or who had the best voice. It was significant to our audience that we had taken the time to come at all.
It wasn't long after our successful performance that Zelig's voice finally broke and he never knew whether he would sing soprano or alto. Tough luck for him. My voice on the other hand, never changed and could always be depended on to sing off-key.
http://holidays.net/chanukah/
For some good Chanukah recipes and recipes for all year round, surf on down here:
http://www.gourmania.com/recipesmlym/mlnym_nofrylatkes.htm
BY ELEANOR TYLBOR
As a youngster, Christmas was somewhat of a demoralizing time of the year. Since our family was of the Jewish faith, we celebrated the holiday of Chanukah, which didn't seem to me to be half as exciting as the furor that went along with trimming a tree.
On occasion Chanukah fell during the same period as Christmas and somehow I couldn't work up as much enthusiasm for lighting a candle even if it was colored, as my friends seemed to experience placing ornaments on the branches of their trees.
Even though my parents explained time and time again that Jewish people don't celebrate Christmas, which meant that a tree even a miniature one was out of the question, it was difficult for me to accept. In spite of protestations that we could call it a Chanukah bush, it was obvious that there was no way a fir tree would be part of our celebrations.
Traditionally at Chanukah, children receive gifts of gelt or money and light small colored candles in a menorah (candelabra), one per night for the eight days of the holiday. While that was nice, in my mind it didn't measure up to all the excitement connected to the "other" holiday.
At Hebrew school we always celebrated the various holidays, big and small, and Chanukah was a particular favorite especially since our class, being the eldest students, entertained the residents of a seniors home. Each year the teacher would select eight students to sing and perform as Chanukah candles and competition was fierce for the part of lead candle.
Since I wasn't blessed with a good singing voice – I could barely carry a tune – I knew that my chances were slim at best to play any candle, never mind the lead candle. My biggest rival was Zelig, who had the voice and promise of a future opera singer. Not only did he have the best singing voice, he was also the top student scholastically. Plus he was also the teacher's pet. Whenever games were played for prizes during the holidays, Zelig won everything, which didn't exactly ingratiate him with the other students. Actually, we were all jealous and would have liked nothing better than for his voice to change in the middle of a concert.
Class auditions for candle parts were held a few weeks before the onset of the holiday and the best I could hope for was a minor part and even then, only if the rest of the students had an off day or laryngitis. Each student auditioned for the teacher and as expected, Zelig got the lead role, which irritated me no end.
My resentment was eased somewhat by being assigned the role of a minor candle, probably out of pity more than anything else. Those students not chosen became part of the chorus singing "tra-la-las" at the appropriate time.
Excitement was at a fever pitch when we arrived at the seniors' home, ready to perform for a live audience who were, for the most part, in wheelchairs. They were brought into the auditorium where we were lined up on stage, anxious to perform.
Glancing around the room, many of the seniors appeared half asleep.
"You will be entertained today!" their nurses might have insisted as they wheeled them into the room.
The first students opened the concert and sang well and those who followed performed admirably. Finally, it was my turn. My voice didn't fail me and I felt very proud of my accomplishment.
Zelig opened his mouth and it was like a chorus of angels had entered the room. His voice was strong and melodic and suddenly the seniors perked up, smiles on their faces in obvious appreciation of what they heard. When the last notes of his solo faded away, they all clapped appreciatively.
The musical recital was over and we performed a variety of Israeli dances, moving off the stage to mingle among our audience. Although Israeli dancing was a passion, I was consumed with the memory of the applause and accolades bestowed upon Zelig.
After our presentation and some refreshments, an elderly woman wheeled over to talk to me. She smiled, her trembling hand gently covering mine.
"Thank you," she uttered weakly and breathlessly. "You were all wonderful. How special you are to visit us!"
There was the sudden realization that it wasn't important who the lead candle was or who had the best voice. It was significant to our audience that we had taken the time to come at all.
It wasn't long after our successful performance that Zelig's voice finally broke and he never knew whether he would sing soprano or alto. Tough luck for him. My voice on the other hand, never changed and could always be depended on to sing off-key.
http://holidays.net/chanukah/
For some good Chanukah recipes and recipes for all year round, surf on down here:
http://www.gourmania.com/recipesmlym/mlnym_nofrylatkes.htm
Sunday, December 2, 2007
"The Chanukah King": a reminiscence of the ultimate dreidel competition
NOTE TO MYSELF: ONCE UPON A TIME I HAD A DREIDEL
THE CHANUKAH KING
by Eleanor Tylbor
There was the usual sense of excitement among students attending the Chavarim Afternoon Hebrew School a couple weeks before the onset of Chanukah. Throughout the school spinning dreidels whirled around the floor surface in anticipation of the annual competition held on the first night of Chanukah. Even then practise was no guarantee of a successful outcome of deposing "the dreidel king" who was defending his title for the fourth year in a row.
If there was anyone who personified the ideal qualities in a student it was Zelig Bornstein. At ten years of age he could do no wrong. A brilliant student academically he was also blessed with the voice of an angel and it was a given that he would sing the part of lead candle in the annual Chanukah concert. As if that wasn't enough to cause jealousy and rivalry among classmates, he ALWAYS won the annual dreidel competition.
Among the students of Mr. Meldrum's class there was the general belief that his cobalt blue dreidel with gold lettering on the sides possessed magical properties. There could be no other explanation to account for his perpetual dominance other than a mysterious and powerful outside source was at work, unavailable to his classmates. A few brave participants had come close to deposing him but somehow Zelig always managed to win out in the end. To further undermine his competitors confidence "The Dreidel King" did nothing to dispel the air of mystery surrounding his acumen.
"It's all right here," he would boast when asked the secret of his success, pointing to his wrist and flicking his fingers one-by-one to demonstrate his unbeatable technique, "and my magical dreidel, of course."
He never divulged any background information on how it was acquired and neither would he allow anyone to touch it much less give it a spin, further adding to the mystique.
"He" doesn't like leaving my hands," he would proffer in the way of an excuse, speaking of his top as if it was a living thing or a pet.
Externally, I professed animosity towards him as did the others, but internally I adored him from afar. However, this did not diminish my desire to win and I practiced fervently in the hope of improving my spin. I longed to emerge victorious if for no other reason than to make Zelig aware that I was alive, or at least be aware of my presence. It wasn't considered socially unacceptable to acknowledge the existence of the opposite sex, and even if he did harbor some stirrings of romantic feelings, he hid them well from me.
It would be fair to say that nearly every student in Mr. Meldrum's class dreamed of wresting the title away from him. We discussed the situation amongst ourselves, plotting a course of action that could de-throne him. Dreidel tossing techniques were assessed including "spit-shots" in which the "toss-ee" would spit or lick fingers to acquire more control of the toss, disallowed by Mr. Meldrum for hygienic reasons. Finger exercises were evaluated in addition to the benefits of knuckle cracking workouts before the competition, all of which were eventually discarded as ineffectual. Deep down inside we knew that the end result was out of our hands in the true sense of the word, and in those of the fates. There was always the glimmer of hope that perhaps the fates would smile on one of us. Anyone of us except Zelig.
Like a conquering hero "King" Zelig took center-stage tossing his dreidel from hand-to-hand as he walked, attempting to psyche out the participants. It was a piece of pure theatre as he produced a blue satin drawstring bag and reaching in, retrieved the cobalt blue dreidel smiling all the while. We took our places around the table, our hands clasped around the dreidels, waiting for our turn.
As the reigning champion he spun first, achieving the "gimel" and winning the first round. Dreidel competitors fell one after the other until it was time for me as the last competitor to
One by one he knocked out of the game until finally it was my turn. All eyes were upon me as I opened up my hand, gently allowing a cobalt blue object with gold lettering on the sides to drop on the surface of the table. There was an audible gasp from my fellow students accompanied shortly thereafter by excited whispers.
"D'ya see her dreidel?" they asked each other. "It's the same one as Zelig?s!"
At tournament time a large table was set up in the middle of the classroom and dreidels distributed to students. King Zelig tossed his dreidl from hand-to-hand, smiling smugly and acting self-assured. As the reigning champion Zelig spun first, achieving the letter "g" or "gimel", which meant that he won the first round. One by one we took turns and I landed on "hay", acquiring half of the pot composed of chocolate coins and other goodies, which pleased me no end. For the next few turns the dreaded "shin" turned up denoting a loss, accompanied by groans of disappointment from fellow students. Like many of the stories we were told focusing on unsurpassable victories over adversity, things turned in my favor. The king was dethroned and long live the new champion. Me. Jubilant cheers broke out among fellow students as they savored the moment for which they had all waited. My adversary, meanwhile, appeared stunned and in shock. Consumed with laughter and staring triumphantly into his eyes, I couldn't help but notice his were brimming with tears. It was bad enough being dethroned but having it done by a girl, was more than his young ego could handle in one day.
I could have chosen to ignore him and savor the moment of victory, since it was a long time coming and it probably wouldn't happen again. Instead, upon realizing that he had been humiliated in front of his male friends, a final showdown was suggested to determine the final victor. Needless to say, he amazingly emerged victorious.
He never did acknowledge my presence or reach out to thank me for my selfless gesture, in all the years of our attending Hebrew school together. He did allow me to spin first in a subsequent re-match the following year, presumably as a good will gesture on his part. In my mind I would always be queen to his king be it only for one occasion and that was better than nothing. That's life. Sometimes you win and sometimes you gotta lose.
THE CHANUKAH KING
by Eleanor Tylbor
There was the usual sense of excitement among students attending the Chavarim Afternoon Hebrew School a couple weeks before the onset of Chanukah. Throughout the school spinning dreidels whirled around the floor surface in anticipation of the annual competition held on the first night of Chanukah. Even then practise was no guarantee of a successful outcome of deposing "the dreidel king" who was defending his title for the fourth year in a row.
If there was anyone who personified the ideal qualities in a student it was Zelig Bornstein. At ten years of age he could do no wrong. A brilliant student academically he was also blessed with the voice of an angel and it was a given that he would sing the part of lead candle in the annual Chanukah concert. As if that wasn't enough to cause jealousy and rivalry among classmates, he ALWAYS won the annual dreidel competition.
Among the students of Mr. Meldrum's class there was the general belief that his cobalt blue dreidel with gold lettering on the sides possessed magical properties. There could be no other explanation to account for his perpetual dominance other than a mysterious and powerful outside source was at work, unavailable to his classmates. A few brave participants had come close to deposing him but somehow Zelig always managed to win out in the end. To further undermine his competitors confidence "The Dreidel King" did nothing to dispel the air of mystery surrounding his acumen.
"It's all right here," he would boast when asked the secret of his success, pointing to his wrist and flicking his fingers one-by-one to demonstrate his unbeatable technique, "and my magical dreidel, of course."
He never divulged any background information on how it was acquired and neither would he allow anyone to touch it much less give it a spin, further adding to the mystique.
"He" doesn't like leaving my hands," he would proffer in the way of an excuse, speaking of his top as if it was a living thing or a pet.
Externally, I professed animosity towards him as did the others, but internally I adored him from afar. However, this did not diminish my desire to win and I practiced fervently in the hope of improving my spin. I longed to emerge victorious if for no other reason than to make Zelig aware that I was alive, or at least be aware of my presence. It wasn't considered socially unacceptable to acknowledge the existence of the opposite sex, and even if he did harbor some stirrings of romantic feelings, he hid them well from me.
It would be fair to say that nearly every student in Mr. Meldrum's class dreamed of wresting the title away from him. We discussed the situation amongst ourselves, plotting a course of action that could de-throne him. Dreidel tossing techniques were assessed including "spit-shots" in which the "toss-ee" would spit or lick fingers to acquire more control of the toss, disallowed by Mr. Meldrum for hygienic reasons. Finger exercises were evaluated in addition to the benefits of knuckle cracking workouts before the competition, all of which were eventually discarded as ineffectual. Deep down inside we knew that the end result was out of our hands in the true sense of the word, and in those of the fates. There was always the glimmer of hope that perhaps the fates would smile on one of us. Anyone of us except Zelig.
Like a conquering hero "King" Zelig took center-stage tossing his dreidel from hand-to-hand as he walked, attempting to psyche out the participants. It was a piece of pure theatre as he produced a blue satin drawstring bag and reaching in, retrieved the cobalt blue dreidel smiling all the while. We took our places around the table, our hands clasped around the dreidels, waiting for our turn.
As the reigning champion he spun first, achieving the "gimel" and winning the first round. Dreidel competitors fell one after the other until it was time for me as the last competitor to
One by one he knocked out of the game until finally it was my turn. All eyes were upon me as I opened up my hand, gently allowing a cobalt blue object with gold lettering on the sides to drop on the surface of the table. There was an audible gasp from my fellow students accompanied shortly thereafter by excited whispers.
"D'ya see her dreidel?" they asked each other. "It's the same one as Zelig?s!"
At tournament time a large table was set up in the middle of the classroom and dreidels distributed to students. King Zelig tossed his dreidl from hand-to-hand, smiling smugly and acting self-assured. As the reigning champion Zelig spun first, achieving the letter "g" or "gimel", which meant that he won the first round. One by one we took turns and I landed on "hay", acquiring half of the pot composed of chocolate coins and other goodies, which pleased me no end. For the next few turns the dreaded "shin" turned up denoting a loss, accompanied by groans of disappointment from fellow students. Like many of the stories we were told focusing on unsurpassable victories over adversity, things turned in my favor. The king was dethroned and long live the new champion. Me. Jubilant cheers broke out among fellow students as they savored the moment for which they had all waited. My adversary, meanwhile, appeared stunned and in shock. Consumed with laughter and staring triumphantly into his eyes, I couldn't help but notice his were brimming with tears. It was bad enough being dethroned but having it done by a girl, was more than his young ego could handle in one day.
I could have chosen to ignore him and savor the moment of victory, since it was a long time coming and it probably wouldn't happen again. Instead, upon realizing that he had been humiliated in front of his male friends, a final showdown was suggested to determine the final victor. Needless to say, he amazingly emerged victorious.
He never did acknowledge my presence or reach out to thank me for my selfless gesture, in all the years of our attending Hebrew school together. He did allow me to spin first in a subsequent re-match the following year, presumably as a good will gesture on his part. In my mind I would always be queen to his king be it only for one occasion and that was better than nothing. That's life. Sometimes you win and sometimes you gotta lose.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
SHOPPING FOR TOYS A DIFFICULT CHOICE THIS HOLIDAY SEASON
NOTE TO SELF: Watch out for the bad toys!
Chances are consumers are heavy into shopping in search of those perfect gifts for family and friends bit there's trouble in toyland this holiday season. In as far as the kids are concerned, toys are always welcome but it's getting more and more difficult to differentiate between the bad and the safe one's.
More toys tainted with extremely high levels of lead were found on the shelves at major U.S. retailers, according to an advocacy group's survey released Tuesday.
The U.S. Public Interest Research Group, which released the "2007 Trouble in Toyland" report, highlighted hazards that included lead, dangerous small magnets, and toys that pose choking and strangulation hazards.
"While we have seen progress after more than two decades of advocacy on behalf of America's littlest consumers, U.S. PIRG's researchers still found trouble in toyland on store shelves this fall," said Ed Mierzwinski, the consumer program director at the U.S. PIRG.
Toys tested by the Consumer Product Safety Commission [CPSC] are banned if they contain lead at 600 parts per million - the legal lead standard. The U.S. PIRG went to different retailers and tested a number of different toys which had high amounts of lead.
Read the full story here:
http://money.cnn.com/2007/11/20/news/companies/toys_lead/index.htm
It would be interesting to know if consumers have changed their shopping habits due to all the reports of toys containing lead and what, if any, impact it will have on the holiday Christmas sale. Perhaps the only solution is to bring along the lists of safe toys to ensure that those selected are tested and acceptable.
Isn't it sad that shopping for toys has come down to this? It also leaves one to wonder about all those toys purchased over the years. The lead content must have been present and there must have been some exposure to lead. Or perhaps the current lead in toys is a recent occurence? Go know!
Ho-ho-ho and Happy Chanukah to you, too!
Chances are consumers are heavy into shopping in search of those perfect gifts for family and friends bit there's trouble in toyland this holiday season. In as far as the kids are concerned, toys are always welcome but it's getting more and more difficult to differentiate between the bad and the safe one's.
More toys tainted with extremely high levels of lead were found on the shelves at major U.S. retailers, according to an advocacy group's survey released Tuesday.
The U.S. Public Interest Research Group, which released the "2007 Trouble in Toyland" report, highlighted hazards that included lead, dangerous small magnets, and toys that pose choking and strangulation hazards.
"While we have seen progress after more than two decades of advocacy on behalf of America's littlest consumers, U.S. PIRG's researchers still found trouble in toyland on store shelves this fall," said Ed Mierzwinski, the consumer program director at the U.S. PIRG.
Toys tested by the Consumer Product Safety Commission [CPSC] are banned if they contain lead at 600 parts per million - the legal lead standard. The U.S. PIRG went to different retailers and tested a number of different toys which had high amounts of lead.
Read the full story here:
http://money.cnn.com/2007/11/20/news/companies/toys_lead/index.htm
It would be interesting to know if consumers have changed their shopping habits due to all the reports of toys containing lead and what, if any, impact it will have on the holiday Christmas sale. Perhaps the only solution is to bring along the lists of safe toys to ensure that those selected are tested and acceptable.
Isn't it sad that shopping for toys has come down to this? It also leaves one to wonder about all those toys purchased over the years. The lead content must have been present and there must have been some exposure to lead. Or perhaps the current lead in toys is a recent occurence? Go know!
Ho-ho-ho and Happy Chanukah to you, too!
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