By Joel H. Cohen
NEW YORK — Early one December at my cousin’s retirement party, we were introduced to his replacement as engineering company head and the man’s wife, both not Jewish. The young woman was very outgoing and, though we were meeting for the first, she was as friendly as if we had been longtime buddies.
At one point she asked us,”What are you doing Christmas Eve?”
“Probably going to the movies,” I answered.
Seemingly horrified, she said. “That’s terrible,” adding out of pity, “Please, we’re having a gathering that night and we’d love you to come.”
It took several attempts to convince her that, as sweet as her offer was, we didn’t celebrate Christmas and we LIKED to go the movies Christmas Eve (when it was easy to get good parking spaces and seat). It wasn’t a matter of being, or feeling, left out.
Many Christians seem surprised that most Jews don’t celebrate the Christmas holiday. For instance, a woman from Scotland, after my wife told her we celebrated Chanukah, said, “Then, after that, you do Christmas, right?”
A number of Jewish men and women do go to midnight mass, enjoy the tree in Rockefeller Center and the store displays, and some even put up a “Chanukah bush,” lest their children feel deprived,
When we were kids, I don’t remember any of us experiencing Xmas envy, of feeling left out, even in the gift department. After all, we had the prospect of eight gifts, albeit minimal ones, And there was no such thing as a “Chanukah bush.”They had their holiday, and we had ours. No problem. The only challenge for some Jewish grade-schoolers was what to do about singing carols. Some sang them; others stayed silent; some just mouthed the words.
The confluence of the two holidays — this year, the first Chanukah candle-lighting is on December 24 — has elevated Chanukah to major-holiday status, but also contributes to tension in some Jewish households about how to make Chanukah “competitive” with Christmas, at least in the gift-giving to the kids.
There’s the story of a little boy sitting on the lap of a department store Santa, who asks the child what he’d like as a Christmas present. “I don’t want a Christmas present,” the boy replies, “I want a Chanukah present. I’m Jewish.” “To which Santa declares in Yiddish, “a geszunt auf dein kepele (health on your head).”.
A by-product of the proximity of the holidays is the number of menorah-lightings in streets, malls and buildings. One man we know, who I don’t think has his own menorah, was insistent that his building display a menorah along with its lobby Christmas tree.
There can be Chanukah perks for grownups, as well as the kids. Years ago, when there was a large influx of Russian Jews on Staten Island, NY, our Jewish Community Center gave out Chanukah packages to the newcomers. I was one of the volunteers distributing the packages, and one Russian recipient told me he was so very grateful and invited me to “please come in and have a latke.”
That was a pleasant surprise, since I had thought many of the newcomers knew little about the holiday, and here was a man familiar with the traditional food item. But it turned out I had heard him wrong. He’d invited me, not for a “latke” but a “vodka.” In the interest of international accord, I accepted, asking him to pour just a little. But he filled a water glass to the top, which resulted in a giddy package-dstribution the rest of the day.
That was a long time ago. This year, I’ll wish my Christian friends and neighbors a merry holiday and wonderful new year. And, after we light the first candle and sing some “Rock of Ages,” probably go to the movies.
See you there?
*
Cohen is a freelance writer based in New York.