Festival of Lights (and Fights?)

Tomorrow begins that joyous time of year when my family gathers around a steaming platter of latkes, lights the menorah, and debates our preferred spelling of the holiday known as the Festival of Lights.

(Oh! You do C-H-A-N-U-K-A-H? I was always taught to spell it H-A-N-U-K-K-A-H….)

Growing up with a mostly non Jewish crowd, I was accustomed to other kids (and their parents) asking me how to spell it. Surely now that I’m an adult -- a professional writer, no less – I know the correct spelling, right?

Wrong. There is no right or wrong way to spell it because it’s a transliteration of the Hebrew word. Apparently Hanukkah is the most widely used spelling these days, but it’s really just a matter of preference.

Now that I think about it, the whole holiday is one giant cluster. Not only do we not agree on its spelling, we observe it on different days each year (that’s because it follows the Jewish calendar). We can’t agree on the meaning of the Great Miracle we celebrate (is it that the oil burned for 8 nights? Or that the ragtag group of Maccabees beat out the more powerful mercenary Syrian army?). Rarely do we recall how to play Dreidel without Googling it first. We bicker over whether to light the menorah from left to right, or right to left. And which is yummier, latkes made from scratch or from a mix?

All that said, if you’re asking the opinion of Writing Coach Cutler, I’ll give it to you, free of charge: I think the miracle is the oil burning for 8 nights; I prefer latkes from a mix, and I’m a C-H-A-N-U-K-A-H girl all the way, baby.

Wishing a very happy one to you!