2004 Holiday Tale

Last year I wrote a holiday tale in honor of my mixed up religious ways and the way my father dealt with them. The truth is that my mother didn't confuse me any less about Christmas, Hannukah, and my birthday, so this year's tale is in her honor...

Once upon a time there was an endearing little boy whose questions equally charmed and bewildered everyone, especially his mother, for there was nothing in knowledge or possession that she would not have give to the child.

Hovering beneath her on a December morning, the child greeted his mother with the usual devilish curiosity in his eyes.

“Mommy, why do we light the Menorah on Hanukkah?” the young boy questioned.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, the mother knelt beside his son and said,” Hanukkah is a time when we celebrate our Jewish heritage. The holiday is a celebration of our ancestors’ triumph over religious persecution and their rededication of the holy Temple in Jerusalem. This is where they relit the eternal light using the only holy oil they could find and although there was only enough oil for the light to burn for one day, it miraculously burned for eight days and eight nights. Today we celebrate Hanukkah for eight days by lighting candles in a menorah every night and commemorating this eight-day miracle.”

“Mommy, why do we decorate that fichus tree in the kitchen with tinsel and styro-foam balls every Christmas?”

Observing that the boy was confused by his family’s tradition of observing both holidays, the mother knelt down beside the boy to help him understand.

“Christmas was created by our Christian friends and, though we do not share their religion, our family has taken to celebrating with them many of their customs and traditions, like Santa Claus, exchanging gifts with family, and singing carols to our neighbors. Since your father would like to do this without overstepping delicate religious boundaries, we have our own special kind of Christmas tree.”

“Mom, why do we have my birthday cake for me?”

The mother paused to choose her words carefully, trying to sidestep a conversation she felt her son was not ready for.

“Son your birthday is a wondrous reminder of when you came into our lives. The cake is a symbol that marks this celebration, much like the Menorah for Hanukah and the tree for Christmas.

The boy nodded, but didn’t seem quite satisfied with all of his answers. Finally he tugged on his mother’s sleeve and greeted her with a final question.

“Mommy, why do you put menorah candles on my birthday cake and have it with Christmas dinner?

“Robby, you were born on December 28th. You must learn to deal with it.”

And thus the tradition of celebrating everything at once would be born…