Friday, August 22, 2008
I've been thinking about gifts a lot tonight. Human ones, like a neighbor with a stepladder, or a long phone call with a good friend, meeting wonderful new people or overcoming one's own inertia. Ones from the world, like a perfect smooth rock in the middle of the road, or a small handful of shells, or an acorn from your favorite tree. A book you need before you know you need it. A poem that fits the time and mood just right. Small things, unexpected things, important things.
Today, I got a lot done for a change. I wrote applications for jobs, I ate breakfast, lunch and dinner (a rare occurrence), I wrote emails, I made phone calls, I wrote short letters on Facebook -- I went for a walk, and the weather was lovely.
Gifts.
I left the house, and walked a little ways, then back up towards another street. A couple of young Orthodox girls were passing by which is hardly remarkable, I live in Crown Heights. The Chabad-Lubavitch Headquarters is somewhere down my street. I walk on a little, and the girls run over.
"Excuse me, are you Jewish?" says the first. The second is quiet through the whole interchange.
"Ah...well, kind of --I suppose..." I stammer, for all the reasons described last post.
"But is your mother Jewish?" First Girl asks. It's not pushy, just friendly finding-out.
"Oh, definitely," I say. On that subject, I'm perfectly clear.
She beams. Ah-ha! "So of course you're Jewish!" And she hands me a small metal box, then goes on. "7.26 tonight, light these. It's a time for a Jewish woman to be in a place of peace, tell God and the Universe what you need to."
I say thank you, they continue down the street, and suddenly it's a beautiful day, with the sun shining down, and I have a ridiculous smile on. I keep walking, and a part of my mind is going along the cynical 'wonder how many white girls in the neighborhood they've asked that today' path, but a much louder part is going "Shabbos candles. They just gave me Shabbos candles."
And it's big, and important. And I recognize a gift as a sign when it's pointed at me in Big Flashing Neon Lights by the Universe.
Because here's the thing: I've never lit Shabbat candles for myself. Physically lit them, said the prayer, for me, alone. With my family, with college friends, with other people's familes, yes. But never for me.
And then these Chabad girls give me candles. In a little metal box with matches, and a charm with the logo of the FridayLight campaign, and a little booklet that says "Find Your Inner Peace." The second they handed it to me, I knew that tonight, for the first time, I was going to light my own candles.
For me.
I set things up, two candles on my desk in the tin, and it's not enough. It's just two votive candles, like the kind we keep in the living room for ambiance. Nothing separate, nothing special. It won't do. So I break out my 'altar box' which has been sitting under my desk, waiting for me to find a shelf and a space. I rummage through, seeing what's been hiding there. I pull out the box of stones and shells and acorns and other accoutrements and altar bits, and a scarf for a cloth, and try again. A Shabbat altar, simple, bright.
The candles in the center, and the elements around them. A twisted twig, found on a sunrise walk, an acorn given by my favorite tree, a myrtle twig, a chestnut from a deep-felt day in Pere Lachaise cemetary for Earth. Shells collected on my cousin's beach in Israel, for Water. Fire is always harder, but a silver sun charm, a stone from a walk, an agate from a friend. (We're going with the theory that all rock was lava once, and lava is Fire of Earth. Like I said, fire is a hard one for me.) Feathers for air, naturally. And an array of stones across the top -- wishes, intent for the coming week. Amethyst and quartz on either side - to keep peace amid the chaos. Blue Tiger's Eye - keeping energy up, and goals and conviction strong. Lodestone - to attract good fortune and (hey, practicality here) employment. Also grounding. Malachite - to clear blockages that prevent transformation, to get things rolling. Better.
And then I lit candles. I said the prayer, I said what I needed to, and the scent of the wicks catching, the flame rising, the wax melting, was just as it was when I was little. The heat rising to meet my hands, bringing the light towards me. Just what I needed. Something settling into place as just the right thing, at the right time, in the right place. I took some time, then made dinner, and relaxed, watching my Shabbos candles glow.
A gift.
Shabbat shalom. Blessed be.
And to the young ladies I met today: Thank you.