Chanukah in the Soviet Gulag
by Natan SharanskyWhen the enemy answered "amen."
I was the only Jewish child in the auditorium, and sometimes felt I was the only Jewish girl in the entire world.
My parents succeeded so well in creating a wonderful Christmas for their children. What would have made them suspect that somewhere inside me, something was amiss?
At a Grateful Dead concert one Chanukah, I felt like the only Jew in the world. Then an amazing thing happened.
Our Chanukah candles shone extra-bright last year. That's because they were the only lights in our house.
The child who sees no difference between the flames of the menorah and the twinkling lights of the tree testifies to the victory of the Greeks.
Amidst the pre-Xmas frenzy, a group of idealistic college students unexpectedly discover Chanukah's quiet illumination.
In the midst of a fraternity party, my Jewish spark was unexpectedly ignited.
Chanukah's tiny lights brazenly face the night's bitter challenge, transforming fear into a soft caress of hope.
As a Jew, I was always a little different. That would become my greatest asset.
My parents had no clue as to why they lit the electric menorah on Chanukah.In truth, the mystique of Christmas had no real competition.
He succeeded so well, my father, creating a wonderful Christmas for his family, but he never guessed that somewhere inside me, something was missing.
Who could do the kazatzky like Mendel? No one, including the Cossacks who guarded the Czar himself.
An American Jewish soldier of Iraqi descent lights the Menorah in Saddam Hussein's palace.
In my time -- Chanukah meant only a dime -- maybe a quarter if you were a world-class kid. It also meant potato latkes, naturally; and a visit to grandparents and aunts.
God shines his light in some of the seemingly darkest places and turns night into day.
Each of us has a dark spot concealed from ourselves due to overwhelming pain and shame. How do we turn on the lights?