Hanukkah, Humanity, and Our Power to Find Joy—and Fight for Progress

The Story of Hanukkah is the story of one of the first holidays representing a specific group of believers. It reminds me of my first book, The Road Not Taken, which deals with Earth having a Time/Space Continuum, so the characters can see a broader view of their reality. It also ultimately asks a lot of questions about the state and fate of human race, and whether we can (or should) be saved.

During this time in which we come together to remember what we have survived, and celebrate the light that never goes out inside all of us, I have been picturing a celebration, a coming together of us, that I know is worth saving, fighting for, striving for. As the children call up to their home in mid winter darkness, these humans get to see that our world is still powerful and full of joy and definitely capable of change

Please enjoy all the holidays!

It was a very dark night on Earth. In the 50 million years since the Boson Particle created the earth, the plant was now half way through it’s first birthday. This was a huge turning point, and all the creatures on the planet knew it: from hence forth Time would be divided into quarters, halves, and the rare weeks when the sun rose and set more or less the same time. Until the Season Changed.

Two little boys and a girl were dragging up the hillside to their home, when suddenly out of nowhere, the windows in their little hut lit up. They didn’t know what candles were, or when Time had been divided.

The children got closer to their family hut. Suddenly they heard musical sounds. They didn’t know what music was, but they could sure hear it coming out of their family home. The two little boys walked into their home. Their mother was over their very rickety cooker, but the smell coming out of it was delicious.

Mom turned and saw them. “Hello! Welcome to our first ever Channukah on earth! You will be tasting foods that are heavenly, hearing music played by great musicians, and then we will teach each other songs and eat until we fall down.”

A little voice from the back of the hut spoke out: “Mom?”

“Yes my sweet boy, now go on and dress up. We’re having a Chanukah celebration.” But the little voice was silent. “What’s the matter? You sound so sad, and this is the Celebration of Lights.”

“I don’t belong at a Channukah party, I’m from the other religion.”

One of the big boys heard this, and walked to the little kid: “Hey! There is only one religion and we all belong to it. We’re called the Human Race, and what distinguishes us is not the god we follow but the kindness we show every living thing we share our earth with.”

Everybody in the little room was crying. Then laughing. Then, as if a cue had been given, mother began to fill the table with incredible foods nobody had seen before. Next to the food and the plates and glasses, we put huge pots of matzoh ball soup. Herosis, hard boiled eggs, there was no hunted foods, no meats, it was a joyous sharing of Earth on this very significant night.

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