Shabbat

The excitement of holidays

As meaningful and fun as most of the Jewish holidays are, there’s a lot of running around, cleaning, cooking and other preparation that generally goes into them. Three recently published children’s books – two about Passover and one on Shabbat – capture the joys of the holidays, and the craziness that can sometimes precede them.

Passover, Here I Come!, written by D.J. Steinberg and illustrated by Emanuel Wiemans was put out this year by Grosset & Dunlap. It’s a compilation of short poems, all related to Passover, from “Scrub-A-Dub-Dub!” preparations to “Bye-bye, Bread!” and “Hello, Matzoh!” it goes through pretty much every aspect, including the Passover story, what’s for dinner and the search for the afikomen.

“Made by Me!” is about making up the seder plate, and all the plate’s items and their symbols are noted alongside the illustration. For the poem “Our Magic Table,” the drawings and words again combine to wonderful effect. We see the tables from set-up to guest-filled, and the typesetting, leaving gaps between the letters forming the words “g r o w s a n d g r o w s,” communicate the truly magic nature of a Pesach table that does seem to fit an enormous number of people, when we’re lucky to have many friends and family join in our celebrations.

Steinberg’s verse and Wiemans’ drawings work well together, simultaneously entertaining and teaching. The basics of Passover are all covered in Passover, Here I Come! which even includes a recipe for Mom’s Matzoh Brei after the four-line poem “World’s Best Breakfast.”

A Persian Passover (Kalaniot Books) by Etan Basseri with illustrations by Rashin Kheiriyeh, also contains a recipe – for hallaq, which is Persian-style charoset. In addition, the end of the book features a brief description of Passover and what goes on the seder plate, a glossary of Persian and Hebrew words used in the story, and a couple of paragraphs on Jews in Persia, known today as Iran, though, notes Basseri, “the culture and main language of this region is still called ‘Persian.’”

Set in Iran in the 1950s, A Persian Passover follows siblings Ezra and Roza, who are helping their family get ready for the holiday. Everyone is put to work and Roza is finally old to enough to accompany older brother Ezra to the synagogue, where families bring their own flour “to be mixed, rolled and baked into soft, delicious matzah.” Though older, Ezra is not necessarily wiser and he’s still a kid, with energy to burn. Not having learned from an earlier collision with a neighbour – as he ran a lap around the house, being timed by Roza – Ezra once again asks Roza to measure how fast he can run to the next street corner, freshly baked matzah in hand.

“But he didn’t see the rut in the road up ahead. ‘Oof!’ yelped Ezra as he tripped and fell. Splat! went the bag of matzah as it dropped into a puddle.

“‘The matzah!’ they exclaimed together.

“‘That was all the matzah we had for the week. Now it’s gone. What will we tell Mama and Baba?’ asked Roza.” (The glossary notes that baba means dad in Persian.)

Ezra and Roza set out to find replacement matzah before the seder starts, and we meet more of the neighbourhood folk. Hopefully, it won’t be too much of a spoiler to know that the kids succeed – not only receiving kindness, but also showing kindness to others along the way.

The last book that recently came out has to do with matzah, but not with Passover, which is why it’s included in this brief roundup even though it’s about Shabbat. Good for year-round reading, Bubbe and Bart’s Matzoh Ball Mayhem, written by Bonnie Grubman and illustrated by Deborah Melmon, was published by Seattle’s Intergalactic Afikoman last November. Created by two dog lovers, it begins, “This is Bubbe’s story. Believe me that it’s true. Her puppy loved each Friday night like Jewish puppies do.

“When Bubbe made her matzoh balls, Bart was at her feet, waiting for a ball to fall, and not some doggie treat.”

While Bart’s begging doesn’t achieve the desired result, he does get to eat all the matzah balls he’s able to catch. Bubbling away in the pot on the stove, the matzah balls grow so large that they blow off the lid and zoom all over the room. Not to be held back by “a better lid, and some very sticky tape,” the balls continue to fly. And we get to count them as they do. (Another spoiler alert: Bart gets to eat an awful lot of matzah.)

Eventually, with a little magic, calmness is restored and dog and house are cleaned up in time for Shabbat dinner with the family.

Bubbe and Bart’s Matzoh Ball Mayhem ends with a couple of paragraphs about Shabbat, “a very special day of the week,” and a short glossary.

Gift of doing nothing at all

Recently, one of my twins convinced me we needed to look at an online mindfulness app. It featured ocean beaches, a sunset, a waterfall, a forest, a rainstorm …. you get the picture. The notion was that one could stare at each image, take deep cleansing breaths and feel restored. Except, with the twins crowding my iPad screen, within moments we had hopped from one view to the next. The app kicked us out, as we had “seen” all its tranquil views. What was supposed to be meditative became a crazed, erratic two-minute virtual tour of all the outdoors, at once. Oops. That didn’t work out right.

There’s a lot of discussion online and in the media about how the pandemic has caused mental health issues because people are lonely, restless and bored, and many have a hard time with restrictions and lockdown. This may well be true for many people.

For those of us with kids, it feels more like a Ferris wheel/merry-go-round mash-up, where both rides have the music playing, it’s all set on a fast speed and there’s NO. WAY. TO. GET. OFF. We’re crazy busy staying home. We chose remote schooling for safety. This gives no breaks from parenting, and no way to get all the work done. My house is a mess. The housework and cooking? – seriously out of control.

My parents, living alone in Virginia, have an opposite experience. Due to their age and health, they, too, are staying home to stay safe, with lots of time, not enough socializing in person, feeling adrift without their usual travel plans and volunteer activities.

Our extended family is far away and cannot help us in Winnipeg. We can’t support them in person either, so we’ve had a long stretch of time, including holidays, on our own. Chanukah won’t be different. My parents are sending fun toys in the mail, ordered online, to keep the kids busy during the hours and hours ahead indoors this winter, which we will appreciate, whenever they arrive.

We’ve also been planning way in advance. When you celebrate Passover, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, etc., on your own as a nuclear family, it takes more thought to make it special. Giving ourselves time to prepare has meant we have had some amazing meals and meaningful home-based observances, without going farther than our back deck sukkah.

My husband and I prepared for Chanukah by worrying if we had enough candles or if we had to shop for them – were Chanukah candles considered essential by the Manitoba government? To our relief, unless the kids insist on lighting all the chanukiyot at once, we’re fine. We’ve got plenty left over from last year, no need to go out and buy more. This, and internet ordering for kids, has been the extent of our preparations.

My twins, however, started the Chanukah countdown much earlier than usual. On a quiet Sunday afternoon, I discovered they were making paper chains and complicated construction paper cut-outs of dreidels, jugs of oil, a menorah, and more. The cut-outs were carefully hung up on our living room’s French doors – approximately 17 days before the first candles would be lit. Anticipation makes a holiday special.

However, the gift I love the absolute best these days won’t come on Chanukah. It’s Shabbat, which happens every week. It’s an opportunity to just sit on the couch. We stream services and I cook ahead so there’s nothing to do on Saturday. We sometimes magically find take-out appearing on the table Saturday night, when the leftovers don’t seem appealing. We’re not shomer Shabbat, and I’ve been known to disappear for a cozy chair and some knitting or to spend time with my sewing machine to deepen my relaxation, but Jewish traditional practice was really onto something with Shabbat.

Since having twins – they are now 9 years old – I’ve had people ask what would help, if I could have absolutely anything. I’d say: going to a quiet place in the country, alone, with a big bed with clean white sheets, lots of good food prepared, and time to just sleep, eat, read and hang out by myself. In reality, I felt that leaving my household for any length of time might result in worse chaos when I returned. My husband is well-intended, but an absentminded professor. He often forgets to feed the kids snack or the dog dinner if I don’t remind him over and over.

However, Shabbat at our house has become that oasis, where I get the chance to just be. It’s not the sunset, waterfall, rainfall, forest walk, ocean waves vision that the mindfulness app thinks we need. Not at all. It’s nothing idyllic – or tidy – but it’s a time to step away from social media, the chores, the craziness, and just be. Nowadays, I don’t have to get everyone dressed up for Shabbat services. I can’t invite guests or stress about getting a fancy meal made. I have many fewer work deadlines. And while, yes, there are some negatives in that, there’s a whole lot of positives, too.

We’re facing so many things that aren’t like anything we’ve experienced before. The unexpected can be scary. It can also be an amazing opportunity to let go, embrace and learn something different. Shabbat has long been my favourite holiday, but it took a pandemic for me to settle even more fully into one day a week of rest.

Turns out I don’t need to gaze at a mindfulness app to unwind. I’ll stick with making a huge Shabbat dinner, sleeping (late!) until 8 a.m., and participating in services from the couch, surrounded by the kids’ Lego and Playmobil congregation.

This year might be a chance to discover new gifts within this very challenging experience. Mine might be the best thing I could imagine – doing nothing at all.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Going to shul in Las Vegas

Las Vegas’s Or Bamidbar Chabad Sephardi synagogue at Chanukah. (photo from Rabbi Yossi Shuchat)

The Las Vegas Strip is where all of the action is, an endless sea of attractions and hotels with casinos, exhibits and more. These hotels cater to a tourist’s every whim. However, during my last trip to Vegas, several years ago, I spent a majority of my time off the strip, away from the bright lights and glitz.

I met up with a group of friends who I had spent a year with in Arad, Israel, in 1990-91, on a World Union of Jewish Students (WUJS) program that was for young Jewish professionals thinking of making aliyah. This was our second excursion to Las Vegas and members of our group hailed from Paris, New York, Boston, Toronto and Seattle. On our first trip, we stayed in the Egyptian-themed Luxor Hotel; this time, we stayed at Bally’s Hotel, in the heart of the strip.

We spent our first night wandering around the area near our hotel. The next day, on Friday afternoon, we ventured further afield to eat a fabulous lunch at an Israeli kosher restaurant called the Jerusalem Grill, which also offers pre-Shabbat delivery to hotels. As we dined on authentic Israeli dishes that could have come straight from the Holy Land, we reminisced about the good times we had had on our program and the many trips we took to explore Israel together.

We then explored the Palms Casino Resort and the Rio Hotel and Casino, which were near the restaurant. The Rio, where we would be going to see magicians Penn and Teller perform on Saturday night, after Shabbat, was also hosting the World Series of Poker.

On the Friday night, a few of my WUJS friends and I went to Or Bamidbar Chabad – East Las Vegas, a unique Sephardi synagogue, whose Chassidic spiritual leader, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok (Yossi) Shuchat, is from Venezuela. I had made arrangements with the rabbi prior to Shabbat to attend services and he graciously invited my friends and I to dinner at his house afterwards.

photo - A Sephardi Torah case at Or Bamidbar Chabad — A Sephardi Torah case at Or Bamidbar Chabad. *(photo from Rabbi Yossi Shuchat)*

The synagogue features a picture of the Rebbe (Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson) but, other than that, it is a typical Sephardi house of worship, with the bimah in the middle, and Sephardi prayer books and a Sephardi Torah case. I felt right at home, as I have prayed at Sephardi and Chassidic congregations all over the world and have an affinity for the customs and traditions of both streams of Judaism.

After some spirited davening and a great drash by the rabbi, we and a few members of the congregation followed the rabbi to his home, where we were treated to a scrumptious Shabbat meal by his wife, Miriam Bryna Shuchat, who is co-director of Or Bamidbar.

Most of the guests were Sephardi and from Las Vegas, but there was also Baruch, a visitor from New York who was in town to play at the poker tournament. There was also Walter, a Jew who had moved to Las Vegas from Boston and, at one time, was a boxer and a blackjack dealer. After great conversation and food, I retired to a recently renovated mobile home right across from the synagogue, which was reserved for guests – and I had the honour of being the first one!

photo - Or Bamidbar Chabad – East Las Vegas — Or Bamidbar Chabad – East Las Vegas. *(photo from Rabbi Yossi Shuchat)*

The next morning, I participated in the services and got to chant Birkat HaKohanim, the ancient priestly blessing that Sephardi shuls – including Beth Hamidrash in Vancouver – do every day, but Ashkenazi ones do not. At lunch, I had a lively discussion with a former Vancouverite who was encouraging me to leave Canada and move to Las Vegas’s thriving Jewish community, with its approximately 80,000 Jews, 20 synagogues, many Jewish schools and several kosher restaurants. When they had lived in Vancouver, both he and his mom had attended services at the Kollel and are fans of Rabbi Shmulik Yeshayahu. Interestingly, since my Vegas visit, the Pacific Torah Institute, which was located in Vancouver, has relocated to Las Vegas and merged with a local yeshivah.

After services, I was contemplating walking back to the hotel in the sweltering 32°C heat, but Walter, the former blackjack dealer, invited me to spend the afternoon at his house. It was a relaxing, enlightening and cool afternoon. Walter regaled me with stories about what Vegas was like when he arrived there in 1956. At that time in the city, which was founded by notorious Jewish gangster Bugsy Siegel, most of the hotels were owned by Jews and, so, as a blackjack dealer – at a variety of casinos, including the Flamingo and Desert Inn – Walter got to know many of them. He also got to know Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., and other members of the Rat Pack, as well as boxer Rocky Marciano. (When Walter was a boxer himself, he also met Muhammad Ali.)

After my stay at Walter’s – where I even got a Shabbat nap in – he gave me a lift to the Rio, where I met my friends to see the Penn and Teller show. The poker tournament was also in full swing, of course, but I don’t know how Baruch fared.

I spent my last night in Vegas before returning home to Vancouver with my friends at a glitzy hotel watching a magic show. However, while I enjoyed all that I did, the highlight of my trip – in addition to hanging out with friends – was the gracious hospitality of the folks in the Jewish community. I will always remember my wonderful Shabbat in Las Vegas at Or Bamidbar Chabad.

David J. Litvak is a prairie refugee from the North End of Winnipeg who is a freelance writer, former Voice of Peace and Co-op Radio broadcaster and an “accidental publicist.” His articles have been published in the Forward, Globe and Mail and Seattle Post-Intelligencer. His website is cascadiapublicity.com.

Jewish surety in Shabbat ritual

We have two Jewish dogs. When we sing Shabbat blessings, our dogs come over, sit politely, and wait until we’re done with the Hamotzi, the blessing over the bread. Then, they each get a small chunk of challah. This is the only people food they get. We don’t feed them while we eat and they don’t beg. However, when they hear us start to sing blessings, they know what to do!

On Chanukah or Passover, we are ready with alternative treats. Every night after we light Chanukah candles, they get dog biscuits. On Passover, they get matzah.

Our lab/pointer mix, Sally, who is more than 15 years old, has been doing poorly. Bigger dogs don’t usually live this long. She’s had a good life. We love her dearly. When she started having trouble eating, despite pandemic vet visits and several medicines, we were ready to try anything. She vomited and would eat only sparingly.

Then I had an idea. We had leftover homemade challah after Shabbat ended last week. I took out a piece, broke it into smaller bits, and started reciting brachot (blessings). I sang the Hamotzi. She moved her sore joints and sat near me. She ate challah. I did it again. She ate a little more challah. I kept going. In my happy blessing voice, I sang the Shehecheyanu (“Who has given us life”) blessing, feeling grateful for having reached this moment. Challah eaten. I thanked the Almighty for making me in the divine image. Challah eaten. I sang the blessing about giving tired people the strength to go on, from the morning blessings. She ate more challah.

My husband had small luck with this approach. In the end, she ate more for me. Was it my singing? My happy fake-out training technique, after 15 years of dog training to sit for blessings? We don’t know why it worked. After a day or two, we ran out of challah and switched to dog biscuits. Now, she is eating a weird mixture of special canned dog food diet, chicken and kibble again. Things are better, for now.

I want to tell one of our relatives, Ann, in New York City, about this success – about our old Jewish dog, her many blessings and the challah – but I can’t call her. She died May 3rd from a blood disorder. Once she was admitted to the hospital in New York, she was alone. Although she didn’t die from COVID-19, she died alone because of it. Ann, may her memory be a blessing, loved dogs and Jewish tradition. She would have laughed to hear about how Sally regained her appetite because of those blessings and challah.

It feels right now like we’re wandering in the wilderness. There’s so much uncertainty surrounding the COVID-19 pandemic. Every day, things change. Many news sources refer to this virus as “the novel coronavirus.” Yes, it’s new, unlike all the other coronaviruses. Yet, in some ways, this situation, where we’re faced by terrible illness or challenge, arises repeatedly throughout the Torah, rabbinic texts and our history. It may be new to us, but it’s the same old story. How do we face these challenges? How can we behave in Jewish ways when the challenges seem so huge? We study what worked in the past – our history and traditions can help.

How do we make Shabbat (or make anything special) in a time when all the days seem hard and the same? In the Talmud, Tractate Shabbat 69, “Rav Huna said: ‘If someone was walking on the road or in the desert and he does not know when Shabbat is, he counts six days and then keeps Shabbat for one day.’ Hiya the son of Rav said: ‘He keeps one day and counts six.’ What is this dispute really about? One bases his opinion on the creation of the world, and one bases his opinion on Adam.”

The rabbis discuss whether we celebrate Shabbat after the six days of creation so, when we don’t know which day is Shabbat, we count six days and then observe one. But Rav Hiya starts with Adam, the first person, and recognizes that one starts with our creation story. Without humans, there would be no way to make Shabbat, so we celebrate first, and then we count six until the next Shabbat.

Rav Hiya’s approach reminds us that we humans are central to this Jewish observance narrative. Our family had to remember that, even if burials and shivah aren’t done normally now, Zoom memorial services and shivahs are for us, the living, to help us navigate through this uncertainty.

Sally the dog is still with us for now, thank goodness. She reminds me, every day, to keep counting (and reciting!) my blessings. Whether you count six days and then celebrate, or celebrate and then count six days, we have these very human routines to help in navigating the unknown – the road, the desert, or a global pandemic.

So, please, grab some challah, say a brachah and train your Jewish dog. Somehow, I can still hear Ann (z”l) laughing as I tell this story. Ahad Ha’am said, “More than the Jewish people have kept Shabbat, Shabbat has kept the Jews.” Our dog Sally has reminded us, too, that, once we say those blessings, a delicious treat always follows. It’s up to us to keep making the blessings and finding those Shabbat treats.

Attempting to keep Shabbos

(photo by Olaf Herfurth)

In anticipation of the annual Shabbos Project – this year on Oct. 26-27 – where Jews from around the world, and from every level of observance, celebrate and experience Shabbos together, I decided I needed to get prepared.

On the continuum that is my journey to Yiddishkeit, I’m probably less than a third of the way there. I’ve chosen to take it one step at a time.

A few weeks ago, after a particularly inspiring Torah class, I broached the subject of Shabbos with my husband, Harvey. I asked him if he’d be on board with trying to observe it the following weekend. He tentatively agreed, knowing that, if he said no, I’d make his life a living hell. A smart man knows when to say yes.

A few days went by before I started planning in earnest for our Shabbos-ready tech shutdown. I confirmed with Harvey that we’d be powering off all our devices, taping the refrigerator and other light switches, using electric tealights to light the requisite rooms, and just generally relaxing for 24 hours. He agreed. All systems go. Or so I thought.

Shabbos candles – check. Tealights – check. Crock-Pot in which to make cholent – check. Beef, carrots, potatoes, etc., to cook the cholent – check. Challah – check. Wine – check. In my naiveté and enthusiasm to be shomer Shabbos, I hadn’t really considered everything that goes into preparing to do so. Not even close. And, of course, my lack of preparation came back to bite me in the proverbial tuchus.

Very early Friday morning, a note was slipped under our door, informing us that the water would be shut off from 9:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. that day. I was thrown headlong in a haze of cholent-making confusion. Instead of starting my cholent at 3 p.m. to be ready for lunch the next day, I panicked and started assembling it at 7:30 a.m. So, we had cholent for dinner Friday night, for lunch on Saturday and, yes, again for dinner Saturday night. You can see where this is headed: cholent overload.

A real Shabbos queen would have made an array of cold salads, had a back-up chicken for Friday night dinner and another main dish for Saturday dinner. I could find a thousand excuses for why I hadn’t thought this through, but none of it matters now. Luckily, I have a very easygoing husband, when it comes to food. Put it in his bowl or on his plate, he’ll eat it. Don’t get me wrong, Harvey is a real connoisseur when it comes to good food and wine. But he also knows when not to complain. So, he ate cholent three meals in a row. And it didn’t kill him. As for me, I was slightly embarrassed that I hadn’t planned more thoroughly for a beautifully scrumptious Shabbos experience. Food’s a big part of all this, right?

The lack of variety in food was accompanied by several, how shall I call them, Shabbos slips. Halfway through lighting the candles, I remembered that I hadn’t changed the Crock-Pot timer to 10 hours, so I did it. “Broke” Shabbos. But I carried on, certain that G-d would forgive my little error. And confident that there is more likelihood of us trying to keep Shabbos again if we don’t approach it with an all-or-nothing attitude. Baby steps will keep us on the right path, whereas a “let’s call the whole off” right now because I messed up with the Crock-Pot will turn us off forever. There were a few other Shabbos boo-boos, like writing something down on a piece of paper. And carrying my purse to shul. Oh, and that pesky little detail of not keeping kosher.

I’ve actually studied a bit about how to keep Shabbos. I just haven’t put it all into practice quite yet. Not even close. But the intention and desire is there. I have to admit, I have a small obsession with understanding new things fully before embracing them. Reading before doing. I guess that’s a residual habit from spending 34 years as a librarian. In case you weren’t aware, librarians can’t rest until they have all (or most) of the answers. So, the journey continues.

The best part of Shabbos for me, besides lighting the candles and eating the delicious challah I made, was having my husband’s undivided attention, and he, mine. The time we spent talking on that one Friday night is probably equal to the time we usually spend talking all week. After nearly 13 years together, I learned new things about Harvey that Shabbos. In an atmosphere of love and relaxation, with no distractions of any kind, we eased back into each other’s lives calmly and sweetly. It was wonderful.

On Saturday, in the late afternoon before Shabbos ended, I walked into the living room and sat down. Harvey looked at me with a touch of fear in his eyes and asked: “Does this mean we have to talk again?” I guess the feeling about the beauty of it all was slightly inequitable. But I’ll keep trying. There’s always next Shabbos.

Shelley Civkin is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review, and currently writes a bi-weekly column about retirement for the Richmond News.

Judaica in Metro Vancouver

Among the items featured in Buchan’s Judaica section is a set of six hammered liquor cups on a pomegranate branch from Yair Emanuel, for any Shabbat or holiday table. (photo from facebook.com/BuchansKerrisdaleStationery)

If you’re looking for a new menorah or some cool Chanukah gifts over the next few weeks, you’ll want to target your search to three stores that have become the only hotspots for Judaica in the Lower Mainland. Sure, there are items here or there that you can find elsewhere, but not with much selection. And, you can shop online, but the problem with click-and-purchase is you don’t get to hold the weight of an object in your hand, to see the real symmetry of a piece from your screen, how it will fit into your home. Here’s where to go if you’re in the market for Jewish objets d’art.

Buchan’s Kerrisdale Stationery sits right next door to Garden City Bakery in Richmond, the Lower Mainland’s number one challah maker. The store has had a small selection of Judaica for several years but, when Inna Vasilyev took ownership a year ago, she decided to up the ante and significantly increase the variety. Vasilyev, who also owns the original Buchan’s Kerrisdale, on West 41st Avenue in Vancouver, aims to please everyone in her product choices. You’ll find 99 cent Chanukah candy, inexpensive wooden dreidels over which small kids can drizzle candle wax, fancy hand-painted dreidels and the plastic ones that disappear into the corners of a house each year. Buchan’s has Chanukah games, gelt, colouring books, tea towels, napkins with Jewish designs and menorot.

photo - Beth Tikvah’s gift store offers several different styles of menorot and a host of other Chanukah gifts, including shaped cookie cutters, games and books — Beth Tikvah’s gift store offers several different styles of menorot and a host of other Chanukah gifts, including shaped cookie cutters, games and books. *(photo from btikvah.ca/support/beth-tikvah-gift-shop)*

“We have designer pieces by well-known designers and a good selection of candles, too, from simple ones to deluxe ones that burn for ages and smell beautiful,” she said.

Vasilyev also stocks non-Chanukah-related Judaica like mezuzot and candlesticks. For shoppers averse to crossing the bridge into Vancouver (or into Richmond), this accommodating store owner will transfer product between the stores to make life more convenient. She’s in the throes of updating her website and hopes to eventually display all her products on it.

Also in Richmond is one of the Lower Mainland’s longest-lasting synagogue stores, the gift shop at Beth Tikvah. Vicki Northy has been the manager and chief volunteer for the past seven years.

In the hours the office is open, office staff will gladly open the store to shoppers and handle the transactions. Northy buys new products every year, choosing a variety of fun items like bagel spreaders and mensch mugs, functional items like Kiddush cups, candlesticks and challah boards, and Judaica art by well-known artists including Yair Emanuel, Gary Rosenthal, Lily Art, Adi Sidler and Agayof. The store will be open 11 a.m.-12:30 p.m. on Dec. 3 and 10 this year to accommodate Sunday shoppers.

Olive+Wild, the gift and home décor store at 4391 Main St., is quite possibly Vancouver’s only retailer selling Judaica. Owners Simon and Bella Zaidel have 18 different menorah designs in stock right now, ranging from menorot that will get your kids excited about Chanukah to artistic beauties in brass, silver and glass.

photo - Olive+Wild has some 18 different menorot from which to choose, as well as Judaica for Shabbat and other Jewish holidays and occasions — Olive+Wild has some 18 different menorot from which to choose, as well as Judaica for Shabbat and other Jewish holidays and occasions. *(photo from oliveandwild.com/collections/judaic)*

“We stock Judaica designs by Nambé, Michael Aram, Yair Emmanuel and Carrol Boyes. And, given the demand, we’ve expanded our collection with various price points to make our products available to all different budgets,” Simon Zaidel said. The store opened last September and the response from the community has been “incredible,” he added. “Since Temple Sholom’s gift store closed down, there’s a limited availability of Judaica in Vancouver,” he noted. “We carry Kiddush cups, Shabbat candles, tzedakah boxes, Havdalah sets, challah covers and boards, kippot, tallises, mezuzahs, hamsas and Judaic jewelry, most of the products made in Israel.”

After the sugar-rush from the combination of Chanukah gelt and sufganiyot has worn off and the aroma of frying latkes is leaving your kitchen, you’ll want to begin “the Great Menorah Cleanup.” If there’s candle wax on your glass surface, it’s a relatively easy job involving a dollar store scraper and a hairdryer to melt any stubborn excess wax. Candle wax on silver candlesticks can be harder to eliminate without scratching your metal. Experts suggest placing your candlestick holder or menorah in the freezer for at least 20 minutes and then using your fingernails to flick off the frozen wax. A cotton ball with silver polish or rubbing alcohol can also be a useful resource to swap the area until it’s clean.

Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond. To read her work online, visit laurenkramer.net.

The beauty of the light

(photo from flickr.com/photos/scazon)

The sky turns shades of orange and mauve as I glance outside my dining room window and notice the sun slipping behind the trees. The havoc and chatter in the house has peaked. I call my daughter to come and light the Shabbat candles with me. It’s time. Eighteen minutes before sunset.

We light the candles, nine for me, representing each of our family members, and one for her. We cover our eyes and circle the flames three times with our hands as we say the blessing that ushers in the holy Shabbat. “Baruch ata Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav, v’tzeevanu l’hadlik ner shel Shabbat kodesh.” (“Blessed are you, G-d, our Master of the Universe, who has sanctified us with His mitzvah, and commanded us to light the candle of the holy Shabbat.”) Instantly, the chaos subsides and peace and serenity reign. It’s visceral, and a mystery to me how it occurs every Friday evening.

The Shabbat candles warm the atmosphere of the Shabbat table. Their soft glow draws us in. All week, we run from home to work and school, activities and errands that fill our days. Many of us do not share meals or spend time together at all!

Only on Shabbat do we have the opportunity to have precious moments with family and share meals, discuss our week’s events, share Torah thoughts and stories of the parashah, to enjoy each other’s presence as well as that of our Shabbat guests.

Shabbat, the seventh day of the week, is the gift that G-d has given us in order to reconnect with family and friends, and teach us, by His example, to rest as He did after creating our beautiful world for us in only six days. We reconnect with our G-dly souls and recharge our batteries for the busy week ahead. We pray at home and in a synagogue and get a special spiritual feeling as we connect to G-d and our community.

We also have Chanukah, an eight-day festival of lights, falling yearly on the 25th day in the winter month of Kislev. Chanukah recalls the Jews’ victory, with a small army, over the huge Greek army in the second century BCE. It also commemorates the miracle of the tiny bit of light, enough to burn for one day, which lasted for eight days, until the rededication of the Temple was possible after the struggle.

The Shabbat candles are placed inside our homes, while the Chanukah candles are placed so they can be seen from outside our homes. Why the difference?

On Shabbat, we are supposed to enjoy and benefit from the holy glow of the Shabbat candles as they shine over the beautifully set Shabbat table, with its white tablecloth and lavish settings. It is the main attraction for those fortunate to have a place around the table.

On Chanukah, we are forbidden to use the light of the menorah for any practical purpose. As the Chanukah candles melt, we are not supposed to do any housework at all. Only after they’ve melted, can we celebrate the miracle of the oil with food and games.

From this, we can extrapolate an essential difference between Shabbat and Chanukah. Shabbat is for us, the Jewish people; it nourishes and reinforces us weekly. Chanukah reaches beyond the warmth of the home to light up the darkness of the outside world. It reminds us not to be afraid, even in the harshest times. And Chanukah candles teach us to stand up and speak out for those who do not possess this strength. This feeds a pride that transcends ego. This is our proud Jewish heritage and our gift to the world.

As I polish my Shabbat candelabra, candlesticks and our family’s chanukiyah, I smile as memories of past Shabbatot and Chanukah celebrations mingle with anticipation. This year, Chanukah begins on the evening of Dec. 12 and continues until the 20th. Wishing you a very happy and festive Chanukah.

Esther Tauby is a local educator, writer and counselor.

The challah represents unity

Photos from the Vancouver Shabbos Project event Oct. 26. (photo by Lior Noyman)

photo - Participants collect their supplies — Participants collect their supplies. *(photo by Lior Noyman)*

On the night of Oct. 26, hundreds of Jewish community members came together at Vancouver Talmud Torah to bake challah and socialize in a welcoming atmosphere. The event was part of the Shabbos Project, a worldwide movement where Jews across the globe celebrates a Shabbat together.

Why challah for Shabbat?

Most challot are braided with either three or six strands of dough. In kabbalah, when we talk about the mundane and physical world with its limitations, we consider the (three) aspects of time, space and matter, and the six days of creation and the six directions in our three-dimensional world (north, south, west, east, up and down).

Throughout the week, we work to master our environment. We struggle with time – when is there ever enough? We are limited by space, and we attempt to control matter. We are preoccupied with succeeding in and dominating our physical world.

photo - The challah braid represents the unity of everything — The challah braid represents the unity of everything. *(photo by Lior Noyman)*

Shabbat arrives and it supersedes and gives meaning to all we do during the week. It brings us back to focus. Shabbat represents the soul and our inner self. It represents the G-dly, the infinite and the spiritual energy beyond the physical dimensions.

The challah braid represents the unity of everything. It ties all the physical properties of our lives to the divine.

Similarly, Shabbat uplifts time, space and matter and all the dimensions of the physical world. It brings everything and everyone together, reminding us of unity, peace and the purpose of creation.

Rabbi Shmulik Yeshayahu is director of the Ohel Ya’akov Community Kollel.

הקרב על השבת

(צילום: Dickelbers)

בית המשפט לזכויות האדם במחוז קוויבק קבע בפסק דין תקדימי, כי מעצב שיער יהודי ממונטריאול ששמו ריצ’רד זילברג, יכול לעבוד גם בשבתות כבקשתו. בית המשפט אף קבע לזילברג (בן החמישים וארבע) פיצויים בהיקף של 12,500 דולר.

זילברג שימש ספר שכיר במספרה סלון אורזן של איריס גריסי, שאף היא יהודייה, החל מחודש מאוקטובר 2011. זילברג עבד במספרה שישה ימים בשבוע כולל בשבת, שמתברר שהוא היום העמוס ביותר בשבוע.

במהלך חודש יולי 2012 גריסי הורתה לזילברג להפסיק לעבוד בשבתות, במסגרת מדיניות חדשה שלה שלא לאפשר לעובדיה היהודיים לעבוד ביום זה. גריסי אמרה לזילברג שלא לספר ללקוחות מדוע הוא הפסיק לעבוד בשבתות. זילברג חשב אחרת והוא כן סיפר ללקוחות שלו מדוע הוא אינו עובד עוד בשבתות, וזאת בשל היותו יהודי. גריסי שמעה על כך כחודש לאחר מכן מלקוח קבוע שהתלונן בפניה על כך מעצב השיער שלו לא עובד יותר בשבתות. הלקוח אף כעס עליה והתחיל לריב עימה. בשל כך גיריסי פיטרה מייד את זילברג והיא טענה אז כי הוא הפר את הסכם הסודיות שהיה לו עימה.

בצר לו פנה מעצב השיער היהודי תחילה לנציבות לזכויות האדם במונטריאול, שלאחר מכן פנתה בשמו לבית המשפט. זילברג אמר אז: “אני בן לעם היהודי ואני אוהב את האמונה שלי. אבל אני יכול לבחור איך אני רוצה לחיות את חיי”. גיריסי טענה מצידה בתגובה לטענותיו: “אני פשוט אינני יכולה להיות גזענית נגד זילברג כיוון שגם אני יהודייה. הסיבה לפיטורין שלו לא קשורה לטענתו כי אסרתי עליו לעבוד בשבתות, כי זה אינו נכון. אני פיטרתי אותו כי הוא לא היה אחראי והוא אף רב עם עובד אחר, בזמן שהם עבדו ביחד בשבתות. יש לזכור גם אני לפעמים עובדת בשבתות. אני לא מתכוונת לשלם לזילברג פיצויים, כיוון שאני מואשמת במשהו בטעות. אני לא אוותר ואלחם על כך גם בבית המשפט”. על טענותיה של הבוסית שלו לשעבר אמר זילברג בהחלטיות: “אולי איחרתי פעמיים לעבודה במשך עשרה חודשים, אך הרקע לפיטורים שלי ממש לא נעוץ בכך”. כיוון שגיריסי לא נענתה לדרישותיו של זילברג עד חודש אוקטובר 2015, התיק המשפטי הועבר לדיון בפני בית המשפט לזכויות האדם.

שופט בית המשפט, איוון נולן, קיבל את טענותיו של זילברג שבאיסור עליו לעבוד בשבתות גריסי פוגעת בזכויות החופש, המצפון והדת, כמו גם שמירה על כבודו וכן גם על הזיקה לכבד את חייו הפרטיים. מדובר גם על אפלייה על רקע דתי לעומת העובדים האחרים שאינם יהודים. כאמור השופט אף פסק פיצויים למעצב השיער בגובה של 12,500 דולר. חלוקת הפיצויים היא כדלקמן: 6,000 דולר עבור הנזק החומרני, 4,000 דולר עבור נזקים מוסריים ו-2,500 דולר עבור נזקי עונשים שנגרמו לו. יצויין שנציבות זכויות האדם שהגישה את התביעה מטעמו של זילברג, דרשה במקור פיצויים בהיקף של 20 אלף דולר. זילברג היה מאוכזב שסכום התביעה במלואו לא התקבל על ידי בית המשפט. אך מצד שני הוא ציין כי ההמתנה הארוכה בת החמש השנים להחלטתו של בית המשפט הייתה שווה. לדבריו בית המשפט קיבל את טענתו שאין לפגוע במה שהוא מאמין בו. הוא הוסיף: “בפילוסופיה היהודית אין מקום לאפלייה אפילו לעצמנו, אפילו בין יהודי ליהודי”. גריסי לא הגיבה עד כה לפסק הדין נגדה.

Share light of Shabbat

“We want to share Shabbat with those who are alone, or those who might have difficulty cooking for themselves. Plus, we want to help every Jew feel connected and part of the community,” said Rabbi Yechiel Baitelman of Chabad of Richmond, who started the Light of Shabbat program in 2011. “This is not tzedakah; it’s about making a connection with other Jews and helping them celebrate the mitzvah of Shabbos.”

With help from devoted community volunteers, full kosher Shabbat meals are cooked and delivered to those who are elderly, alone, recovering from illness, or homebound. Currently, deliveries are done every other week to about 10 people in Richmond. Each Shabbat box contains challah, grape juice and Shabbat candles, plus a meal of soup, salad, chicken, vegetables and dessert – all homemade. They even include a little card with the blessing for lighting candles, the Torah portion for the week and information about why Jews celebrate Shabbat.

“The boxes are personalized, depending on the needs of the recipient, so some boxes contain more than one meal,” said Grace Jampolsky, coordinator of the Light of Shabbat program. Chabad of Richmond has delivered 495 boxes to date.

“I like to bake the challah myself, but other volunteers make the soup, cook the chicken and vegetables, and bake the desserts,” added Jampolsky.

Richmond resident Courtenay Cohen and her friends, some of whom aren’t even Jewish, bake cookies, cakes and brownies for the Shabbat boxes. Cohen started volunteering a year or two ago. Asked why she recruited non-Jewish friends to help bake, Cohen said: “They’re very involved in their own religious community, but when I told them what I was doing, they wanted to help. It’s a great way to teach them about Judaism.”

Taking on a bigger role this year, Cohen now oversees the baking part of the Shabbat boxes. Not only does she bake, but she also helps pack the boxes and deliver some of them. “Delivering the boxes gives me a chance to visit elderly Jews and others in our community and make a person-to-person connection with them. It’s also a way to check in on them and make sure they’re living in safe and suitable conditions,” added Cohen. “Plus, they really love talking to young people.”

Pam, one of the Shabbat box recipients, said: “It’s fantastic! It’s very generous of Chabad to do this.” Pam said she especially likes when the kids decorate the boxes, and she enjoys the short visit with them. She said that, with the recent snow and an elevator that wasn’t working, she couldn’t leave her apartment for a week, so the Shabbat box was very helpful to have.

Rabbi Yeshurun Blumenfeld, along with his 6-year-old son and 4-year-old daughter, make volunteer deliveries of a Shabbat box to a couple in their 90s every other week. “Not only do I create an ongoing relationship with this couple, but it’s a way to teach my kids about the importance of doing mitzvahs,” said Blumenfeld, who added that promoting a mitzvah is a sanctification of G-d’s name.

Blumenfeld also shared a story of how, one day, when he was at a Richmond bakery buying challah for his family, he happened to bump into the wife of this elderly couple to whom he delivers a Shabbat box. She was shlepping a bunch of groceries, and he asked her how she was getting home. She told him she had called a taxi. He immediately said they should cancel the taxi, and he would drive her home himself. He said it was a very special moment for him, to make that connection with another Jew.

The Light of Shabbat program began in memory of Gavriel and Rivka Holtzberg, shluchim who started the Chabad House in Mumbai, India – the couple was murdered by terrorists in 2008.

Supporting the Light of Shabbat program is a huge mitzvah on many levels. And, as there are a lot of seniors and others in Richmond who would appreciate a good Shabbat meal, Chabad of Richmond desperately wants to expand the program, but needs more donors, sponsors and volunteers to sustain it. Their goal is to substantially increase the number of meals they deliver every week. Each filled Shabbat box costs approximately $25 to $28. To donate to the program on an ongoing or one-time basis, contact Baitelman at 604-277-6427 or [email protected].