Although Greg had never served in the military, he was a veteran of the last war. He’s fought year after year with therapy, antidepressants, long walks, calming music. He’s held his own, but the war continued. He didn’t lose, but he couldn’t win.
He turned to his only ally, an ally not because Greg started out trusting Him, but because he had no choice. The ally knew everything about Greg, what he ate, what he thought, what he did, sort of how some of his childhood friends thought about Santa Claus.
But the ally was real and He’d made a promise to Greg. If Greg would trust Him, He would help Greg win the final battle of the last war.
What choice did he have?
Sarah stood across the street from her Bubbe’s and Zayde’s house. The evening of December 24th, the first night of Chanukah this year, was cool, even in the Los Angeles suburb of Brentwood, but she had dressed for the occasion. She made sure the coat she was wearing wouldn’t attract attention in case anyone saw her.
Sarah wished she could get closer. She wished she could just knock on the door and go inside, but she wasn’t supposed to be there and she wasn’t supposed to change anything.
Wait! There they were. She could see them through the window in the front of their house. Bubbe and Zayde. Her big brother Aaron, all of seven years old, was excitedly jumping up and down next to them. Sarah couldn’t hear anything of course, but she could see everyone’s facial expressions and imagined Zayde firmly but kindly helping Aaron to calm down.
Tradition says that the Chanukah menorah must be placed either in a central area of the home or by a window. The latter is to proudly announce that a miracle had occurred and this was the commemoration of that miracle. Sarah was watching her family tonight thanks to a miracle she had created herself.