Hard Chanukah lesson to teach

MARK BINDER SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH BULLETIN

It had been a long day. When Dad pulled into the driveway and heard the sickening crunch, for a moment he panicked, but then he relaxed – just a toy.
He got out of the car and threw the crushed plastic action figure into the trash.
"I'm home!"

There was no answer. Mom and the baby were out of town for a wedding, but usually somebody came running up and gave him a hug. The sitter filled him in. The boys were fed, bathed and were playing video games in the basement. He thanked her, saw her out and locked the door.

He took off his shoes, stepped into his slippers and yowled, "Ow! What the...."

From the right slipper, he dumped a sharp clump of Lego.

"Boys!" he bellowed. He waited. "Boys, I'm not kidding."

Then he stormed downstairs. He banged the playroom door open. They didn't even look up.

Dad turned off the TV.

"Hey," said, Max, 7. "I was just about to win."

"You never win those games," Dad said. "They just go on and on and on."

"No, Dad," said Harry. He was four. "It's a race game."

"I don't care," Dad scowled. "What is this?" He held up the piece of Lego.

"Hey," Harry said, "you wrecked my gun."

"It was in my slipper."

"Sorry," Harry said. "Can you turn the game back on?"

"No," Dad said. "I also ran over a toy in the driveway."

"My Power Ranger?" Max said. "Harry, I told you not to leave it outside."

"It's your toy, you bring it in," Harry answered.

"Quiet!" yelled Dad.

The boys sat still, their eyes wide.

Dad felt a little guilty about shouting. "Do you guys have anything to say?"

"He was supposed to bring it in."

"I was not."

Then they both turned to Dad, and said at the same time, "Can you please turn the TV back on?"

Dad felt himself grinding his teeth. "No," he whispered. He went over to the wall and pulled the power strip from the electrical outlet. "Video's done."

"Aww, Dad," Harry said.

"It's your fault," Max said.

"Quiet!"

Another silence.

"You guys have too many toys," Dad said quietly. "This playroom is a mess. No Chanukah."

"What?" Max yelped.

"More to the point," Dad said, "No presents."

"You can't do that," Max said.

Harry looked like he was going to cry. "That's not fair."

"Oh, yes it is," Dad said, looking around. The playroom was full. All the shelves were full of books and games. The toy bins were overflowing. The buckets of toys on the floor were full. The floor itself was covered with toys. There were piles of videos and video games scattered everywhere. An army of plastic soldiers and action figures lay in heaps and piles, Matchbox cars were strewn here and there. "It's a disaster area in here. There's no room for anything else."

"You have to give us toys," Max said. "It's part of the holiday."

"I do not. It is not," Dad said. "Toys on Chanukah are just a result of Jewish people keeping up with the Christians."

"So what?" Harry said. "I like toys."

"So, even if we got you toys there wouldn't be any room to put them."

"We'll clean up," Max quickly said, "Ok?"

"Yeah." Harry threw the Lego into a bin. It bounced off and fell on the floor.

"No," Dad said. "It's not enough. You have to get rid of stuff."

"Then can we have presents?" Harry asked.

"If you get rid of enough stuff, you can have presents. You guys get going. I'll come down and check in a bit."

Dad left the room and sighed. More and more, he was sounding like his own father, and he wasn't sure if that good or bad. He went upstairs to the attic and paid bills.

An hour later, he was stiff, tired and done.

When he opened the door to the playroom, he couldn't believe his eyes. Nothing had changed. If anything, it was even messier. Half the bins were dumped in piles. Books were everywhere. Max was reading one. Harry was coloring.

"What in tarnation?"

"Hey, Dad!" Harry jumped up. "We threw some stuff out." He brought the trashcan over.

Inside were two McDonald's toys, a sock puppet, a rubber frog with an amputated leg and a broken pencil.

That's when Dad lost it. He screamed and shouted. He ranted and raved. The two boys cowered on the couch.

"No Chanukah! I'm taking your presents back to the store. Anything from your grandparents, we'll return or give to charity. We are done."

He caught his breath and stopped.

Harry was crying. Max's face was a determined scowl. "You know what? This is the worst Chanukah ever."

Dad shrugged. "Max, I hope this is your worst Chanukah. There are kids who don't have any toys. There are kids who don't have food. You've got food, clothes and a warm house. I hope this is the worst ever."

By now, Harry was crying loudly. Dad was beginning to feel pretty rotten himself.

"It's not fair," Max said.

"You never throw out any of your stuff."

"I'm not expecting to get four million toys for Chanukah."

"We were going to get four million toys?" Harry bawled.

"No, Harry," Max said. "He was exaggerating." He looked at Dad. "Well, I'm not going to give you what I was going to give you either then."

"Fine," Dad said. "I don't need anything."

"But we picked it out special," Harry said. "Mom said you would like it." He cried even louder.

"It's OK, Harry," Max said, patting his brother's shoulder. "He doesn't want it anyway."

Dad didn't know what to say, so he turned and strode from the room. The kids had a point. He hated times like this, when he wanted to teach them something, but they ended up being right.

In the basement's junk room, he stared at the half-dozen milk crates full of records. He'd dragged those albums through five moves. He'd been planning, some day, to burn them into CDs, but really was he ever going to?

Ten minutes later, he opened the playroom door. The boys were on the couch, staring at the wall. They pretended to ignore him. He brought in the six empty milk crates. "We're going to fill these," he said. "Trash and things to give away. I'm going to help."

It took them hours, but after a while, they were laughing and smiling. Throwing away was easy. Figuring out which toys to give away was hard. There were arguments and discussions. Hardest of all was picking out which books to give away. Max wanted to stop and read. Harry kept sneaking toys from the trash back into the bins. Dad managed to keep his sense of humor. At last, way past bedtime, they were done. (Dad gave them ice cream for dessert anyway.)

After teeth were brushed and they were tucked in, Max asked, "Dad, can we help you give the toys away?"

Dad smiled and nodded. "Of course. We'll do it this weekend."

"Do we get to have presents?" Harry whispered, cautiously.

"Yes," Dad said. "I think we all have a little more room now. I'm really sorry for losing my temper."

"It's OK," Max said. "Dad, this is going to be the best Chanukah for us and a whole bunch of other kids, too."

Dad kissed their cheeks and turned out the lights. As he lay in bed, he imagined his wife's face when she saw the partially emptied playroom. It was a shame that they were just going to fill it with more junk again.

Still, he was thankful for the gift of his children. He fell asleep dreaming of their smiles.

Mark Binder is an author and Jewish storyteller. His books, tapes and CDs, including his most recent collection, Classic Stories for Boys and Girls, are online at www.markbinder.com.

^TOP