5. Yet Another Hanukkah Miracle
This post is slightly off-topic, so please indulge me, dear reader. I can’t resist telling you about my own Hanukkah miracle.
In my previous post, I mentioned the newsletter that I periodically received from the Rabbi of Congregation Temple Israel, where my Bar Mitzvah lessons took place. I was now a student at the University of Buffalo, and continued to receive the newsletter that I had dubbed, “The Anti-Semitism Quarterly”.
But this December, the newsletter came with a bonus — a box of Hanukkah candles to light, and a cheap aluminum hanukkiah to mount them on. Like all 20-year-olds of my generation, I enjoyed burning stuff, so why not?
Friday evening arrived, and there was going to be a party in my dormitory building. I lit the candles, and braving the cold, made the trek to the nearby liquor store to buy some whiskey — or whatever I was drinking back then.
Upon my return to the campus, I was treated to a surrealistic winter vision. The entire population of the dormitory was huddled in the adjacent plaza, trying to stay warm. Upon closer inspection, I realized that the building had gone up in flames and that the fire department had arrived in order to extinguish the blaze.
My heart elevated itself into my throat. I sought out some friends from the dorm for a briefing.
“What floor is it on?” “Fourth.” (My floor…)
“Which wing?” “East wing.” (Mine…)
“Wha… what happened?” “You know Steve, in room 408? He lit Hanukkah candles, put them on top of his fridge, and then left the room. The candles must have blown over and set everything on fire.”
Having received the update, I slowly shook my head in disbelief.
“What an idiot,” I said.
