(photo courtesy of Wikipedia)

A day or two late, but the sentiment is there.

(Ok, you can continue reading again).

Some of this will be familiar to those you who know of other journals I keep. Sorry.

The Husband and I agreed that we would not buy each other gifts for Hanukkah. After all, we had just paid for a new kitchen and will be going to Kuaui for vacation so we need to keep spending to a minimum. So what did I receive on Friday, the first night of Hanukkah? A gift. Of course it’s just not any gift. It’s the best gift ever.

Well, maybe not ever but it comes close.

I received a magic box. It’s a beautiful glass box with two white stones added inside and a note that read,”This is a magic box. It is fueled by the contents found within. With each day it becomes more powerful. On the 8th day, you will understand.”

On each day of Hannukah I received two more stones and with it more questions. What would the gift do in the end? Will the stones turn into a nice rock, a.k.a some sort of diamond? Doubtful, because I don’t wear much jewelry, mostly just my engagement and wedding rings, but on occasion I start pining for something. Had I been pining? Or maybe the 8th day arrive and I’d be carted off to a location the stones represented?

A few days into the game, I decided to add a quarter into the box. I figured that I may be required to participate with the box and thought to test the theory. I was also curious as to how the box would respond, if it would think it was funny. The next day I ran to the box and found that the quarter had changed into a Canadian quarter. Thank goodness I didn’t add yarn, it may have ended up as a spool of thread. Useful, but not yarn.

Then on the last day of Hannukah, my box produced a note (as follows)

“Inner Workings of the Magic Box

The sole predictable power of the magic box is replication. Specifically, that of a rare stone which can only be found growing in pairs deep within the mines of Tibet. The magic box is at it’s most powerful during the Jewish holiday of Hannukah, when it replicates nightly, although no one seems to know why. Normally, the stones only replicate once a week until such point that any of the stones are removed from the box for an extended period of time. The stones themselves have no discernible power besides being a fuel for the box. However, because of their rarity, they do maintain a street value of approximately ten dollars (US) each, which, given enough time, might add up to the value of a reasonably large item…say, a spinning wheel, for the lucky recipient.”

Have I mentioned that I love this gift? And that I think it is one of the Husband’s best gifts ever. Over eight days I would smile thinking that I had a magic box and noone else did. At a funeral we attended on Saturday, I broke out into a grin several times. People were dead, but I had a magic box. Why yes, I’m going to Hell, but after a few months of my magic box building up value, I’ll be riding my way into Hell on my nifty spinning wheel.

Hanukkah always seems like a tricky holiday. Where do the presents go when there is no convenient Christmas tree to lay them under? I remember when I was very young, my parents would have the Sister and I sit on chairs in the living room, close our eyes, and put our hands out. After a few moments, a gift would then be placed in our open hands. Being as well trained as we were at such a young age, we would wait until told to open our eyes. Then in our tiny hands would be whatever trifle we wanted. When I was five or so and our presents began getting bigger, our gifts were wrapped and placed around a chair, out of the way, until Hanukkah began.

I grew up one of a handful of Jews in a small, and very Christian town, and being the only jew in my grade I was often held up as an example or questioned as the resident expert. In kindergarten, our teacher told our class all about Hanukkah and how some Jews have a Hanukkah bush. As would become the pattern future me would experience over and over, she then turned to me, the resident expert. “Does your family have a Hanukkah Bush?” she asked. “No,” I said in my ancient 5 year-old wisdom, “We have a Hanukkah Chair.” The chair changes, but the tradition remains.

This year I received a beautiful quilt made by a friend from work. She may demure and claim that a “real quilter would laugh at it” but I see no flaws. It is made with straight lines and crisp edges and truly beautiful colors. I am unbelievably honored that I received this gift from such an interesting woman. I brought it home and the Husband found the perfect place to display it…on the Hanukkah Chair.