The soft, wet winter snow began to fall again. Rachel carried her basket of wood up the hill as a gust of winter wind cut through her cloak and chilled her to the bone. Winter Solstice the longest night, I cannot believe how quickly it has darkened this eve.

As Rachel entered the small hovel, she quickly closed the door. Unveiling her cloak, she left her head covered with a scarf. Beneath the pile of wood, she lifted a precious flask of oil from the bottom of the basket as if from hiding.

“Did anyone see you my dear?” The grizzled features of her wizened father’s face greeted her.

“Av, I was careful and went directly to the old woman’s shop and spoke the secret words. I spoke to no one else. I was too frightened. As I passed the Roman quarter, I could hear the soldiers laughing and drinking…. The slaves they brought with them were drinking heavily also. I think I overheard it is one of their sacred days also—Saturnalia.”

“Ah,bat Rachel beloved, I am glad you are safe. It is a strange occurrence that such as night as the festival of lights falls upon the sacred nights of so many others. But as you know we are not as well understood, or even tolerated by others. We must keep quiet and out of thier way.”

The father then began to set up the table and the oil lamp and dug around for one of his ancient Torah scrolls. As Rachel gathered some food from the larder she sat on the rug in an abeyance posture of listening. Her father began the story she had heard so many times before.

“A large group of men led by Judah the Maccabee climbed to the top of a mountain overlooking Yerushalayim….”

She sat their and listened to the well-known story and smiled. She wished there were others like her father and her self here in the rural area around Londindinium… but after the death of her mother the fire her father had for moving back to Rome or even the homeland had died. He seemed content to scratch out an existence doing various errands as a scribe to the Roman legionaries barracked here.

Rachel shakes herself out of reverie to hear the triumphant end of the story… “One small jug, sufficient for only one day, remained with the seal of the Kohain Gadol intact! Quickly, with trembling hands, they poured it into the menorah and lit it. It would be eight days before they could manufacture more oil for the next lighting, but meanwhile, they lit what they had. The flames of the menorah burned and burned. For eight days they burned.”

After the prayers had been sung and stories told, Rachel finished her meal and thought in wonder. “Father, may I ask a question? Though our sacred story is about Judah’s faith in HIM and the rededication of the temple and HIS faith in our people through the lighting of the oil..."

“Yes bat, go on…”

“Do you think it is HIS design that so many different people revere the light in the darkest night of the darkest season of the year? I mean the Romans and their Saturnalia give candles, the few Christians I have met in the marketplace have a Candlemass soon, and the barbarians I have heard have a Yule tradition of burning logs in the dark of winter.” She took a breath and hesitated. “Do you think HE works through these Gentiles too?”

“My daughter, you know we are HIS chosen ones, but I think in the darkest night and the coldest storm, HIS light of shines through the lives of many people whether they are Roman soldiers, or curious girls. As long as we have faith, and curiosity--- the light will overtake the longest night in everyone’s life.”

“Yes father I think so too.” As Rachel cleaned up the hearth and got ready to sleep through the solstice into the dawn of a new day she smiled as she contemplated the amazing qualities of light.

Finis

---------------------------------------------------------------- Thanks to http://www.torahtots.com/holidays/chanuka/chanstr.htm#macabe for parts of their summary of the story of Chanukah quoted by Father.