‘Twas the third night of Hanukkah,
And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
Except Dr Kraus.
His wife was sleeping,
His kids were tucked in.
But somehow sleep
Still evaded him.
He thought of his therapist;
It was too late to phone him.
He considers his options:
Ambien or melatonin.
The candles burned out
As he sat in his chair.
The sweet smell of fried potato
Still lingered in the air.
The Kraus’s house
Was unique on their street;
Displaying a single, simple menorah,
Not an elaborate electric lighting feat
In the house to the left
And the house to the right
They called that eve Christmas,
Not the third Hanukkah light.
In those neighboring houses
Socks were for mantels, not floors.
For some inexplicable reason,
They brought their pine trees indoors.
The kids there were nestled
And dreaming of toys,
Hoping a magic man
Deemed them good girls and boys.
And their parents also rested
From their budget spreadsheets;
Exhausted from months
Of making ends meet.
But Dr. Kraus was wide awake
With neither excitement nor glee.
This season, this world,
He just could not let it be.
There was darkness, he feared,
Wherever he looked.
His soul was on fire,
But his energy was cooked.
In Washington, in Jerusalem,
Folks were losing their minds
It made Kraus want
To just pull closed the blinds.
Then there was Pittsburg and Poway,
And now Jersey City too.
It made Kraus feel sad
And a bit scared to be a Jew.
As his kids placed in the window
A menorah for the world to see,
Kraus thought with sorrow
About their current reality.
Was it safer, he wondered,
To keep the candles on the inside?
He didn’t want to call attention,
Though he also didn’t want to have to hide.
And his neighbors, it seemed,
Didn’t share in his fear,
They weren’t anxious, he thought,
They were full of good cheer.
Their houses twinkled
With unabashed light displays.
Their jingling bells
Betrayed no sorrows or dismays.
As he left work that afternoon
His heart was sinking.
He wanted to shake his coworkers
And ask what they were thinking.
His colleagues had wished him
“Merry Christmas,” instead.
It was hard to be merry
With these thoughts running through his head.
Now Kraus was sitting,
Late at night in his jammies,
Wondering if the family just needed
A vacation to Miami.
When suddenly something
Shook him from his stupor.
A thud on the roof
Like a wayward paratrooper!
There was crunching and cursing,
Though there was no snow.
And Kraus could have sworn
He heard a faint no, no, no.
Their chimney was tiny,
And their fireplace rarely used.
So the visitor slid down the drainpipe
While most of the Kraus’s snoozed.
Kraus was too scared to move,
Too befuddled to talk,
Until at the door
He heard a quiet, gentle knock.
Krause tentatively opened
And there stood at his door
A figure as tall as one man
But as wide as three or four.
In walked the visitor
To stand in the dim light,
And Kraus got a full look
At this unbelievable sight.
Bespectacled and be-bearded,
With a cap on his head.
And wouldn’t you know it,
He was dressed all in red!
Kraus stuttered and stammered.
He could not think quick.
They don’t teach you in Hebrew School
What to say to Saint Nick.
It was the guest who spoke first,
He said, please forgive my intrusion.
I am sure my appearance
May cause some confusion.
I know I am not
One of your tribe.
At least the menorah
Gave me that vibe.
I’m looking for the O’Connors
Is this not their house?
“That’s 414, this is 416,”
Replied Dr. Kraus.
I had a feeling, said Nick
As he glanced toward the chair.
He gave an infectious jolly smile
And ran his fingers through his white beard hair.
My flying motorcycle
has run out of gas.
I’ve called Triple A,
But they’ll be a few minutes, alas.
“Motorcycle?” asked Kraus.
“You use Triple A?
Didn’t there used to be reindeer
That pulled some kind of sleigh?”
Nicolas laughed,
With a kind HO, HO, HO.
I’ve upgraded since then.
Also, PETA said the reindeer had to go.
Now, he said,
Beaming with pride,
I have a much more practical
And much cooler ride.
But I never thought about gas
When I flew in my sleigh.
If I can just sit for a moment,
Then I'll be on my way.
Kraus could see his guest was tired,
So what was he to do?
The exhausted Father Christmas
Was invited in by the sleepless Jew.
He gestured toward the chair
Nick made a sigh of hazy joy.
He gently lowered down his giant body
Upon the straining La-Z-Boy.
“I haven't any cookies,”
Apologized Dr. Kraus
“But if you'd like some latkes,
I can go wake up my spouse.”
Just water is fine.
I'm so sick of milk.
Though I wouldn't refuse a brandy
or something of that ilk.
As Kraus fetched the liquor
His guest looked around.
It had been quite a while
Since he’d seen so little tinsel abound.
So tell me my new friend,
what keeps you awake?
You have no presents to hide
Or honeyed Christmas hams to bake?
Kraus sat in the other chair
Across from the jolly old man.
He didn’t know quite where to start,
But after a moment, he began,
“I was watching the candles
As the last one flickered out
The darkness seemed so heavy then
With loneliness and doubt.
“I fear the world has come unmoored,
That we are all a bit adrift.
To be honest, I was thinking,
That a little Christmas might give my spirits a lift.
“Would you entertain a question
For a tired, humble Jew?
How do you stay so happy,
With all the work left to do?
“As many presents as you bring,
As many smiles as you make,
You go back North to start all over—
It seems a lot to take.
“Do you ever get discouraged
With the world's most ugly bits?
Do you ever want to hang up the sack,
And tell the world you’ve called it quits?"
Santa didn’t rush to answer
Or chortle Ho, Ho, Ho.
He just sat and sniffed his brandy,
Then drank it in one go.
Hanukkah always struck me as strange,
He said with the smallest grin.
We celebrate the birth of God
You celebrate a military win.
Christmas is a time of joy and cheer
Because redemption is soon at hand.
But Hanukkah is a remembrance of heroes
Who fought to free their land.
And what is your symbol for the victory
Of your Maccabean camp?
Not a stone or a shield or even a sword,
But a many candled lamp.
It seems to me that your holiday
Is the story of the fight,
But also a reminder that, in the end
It’s our job to be the light.
The miracle of Hanukkah is not that the oil
Lasted more than one day,
The miracle is that they had just that much
And they lit it anyway.
What I admire about the Jews, you see,
Is not just the way you cope,
It’s that Judaism, at its very core,
Is the constant expression of hope.
You walk around, dear Dr. Kraus,
With this great big weight on your shoulder.
I worry that you will get crushed
If you keep leaning alone on Sisyphus's Boulder.
Because that is the beauty
Of this hanukkiah.
And that is the reason,
I decided to come see ya.
On the first night, you light
Only one candle.
A brave act for the darkest day,
And maybe all that you can handle.
But soon you see
That one candle brings more.
First two, and then three,
And then tomorrow there'll be four.
For when we bring light
We are never alone.
One burning wick lights another
And somehow each flame has grown.
Your neighbors are cheery
As they pray for their savior.
But you have hope,
And it changes your behavior.
You don’t have to light
The whole world by yourself,
But you can light just one candle
You don’t need the help of this old elf.
Come, Dr. Kraus,
Let us relight your menorah.
It will be our little party,
Though I’m in no shape to hora.
Then he reached into his sack
And rummaged around
Until his well-worn kippah
And four new candles were found.
Then Kraus in his PJ’s
And Nick in his festive dressings
Lit the Hanukkah lights
And recited together the blessings.
I’m glad that I parked here,
Santa said with a smile.
Doing that reminds me of my childhood;
I have not done it in a while.
Kraus was confused;
He tried to think of what to say.
But Santa had started toward the door
To greet the Triple A.
He was leaving the house
But before he passed through the door,
He turned around
To address Krauss once more.
I don't have a present for you
But it's not because you’re a Jew.
I didn’t bring you anything
Because to me, the present is you.
Don’t give up on the light
Or jump off the tight wire.
You’d be amazed
At how contagious is your fire.
We need you out there
To be a bearer of light.
It’s not the joyful but the hopeful,
Who bring the end to the night.
With a wink and a nod
He was gone just as quickly as he came.
Kraus was amazed at how nimbly
He ascended that storm drain.
Kraus went back in the house
And climbed into his bed
With new, hopeful thoughts
Running through his head.
And as he drifted to sleep,
He heard the motorcycle take off
And heard Santa saying
Happy Hanukkah, and to all Chag Sameach!