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Hanukah, our festival of lights, arrives during the shortest days of the year, when darkness creeps upon us earlier and earlier. These days, when it seems that Nature is shutting down the lighting system before we get to the end of the chapter, we recall Athena’s gift. With assistance from that same exact nature, we harvest the olive groves, produce olive oil and light our oil lamp to illuminate our path and fill us with joy. And even one thin candle then vanquishes the darkness.
To me, Hanukah is a paean to how little one needs to abolish hardship and cruelty, to dismantle them, to find a soft corner within them. This holiday celebrates the victory of moderation. It tells us that sometimes so very little is needed to create so much light – only one small flask of oil, a few good intentions and the willingness to believe and to give, a little goodwill and love to drive away loneliness or to break into laughter (and it’s already been said that the difference between one friend and none is infinite). Like a thin, slight candle which conquers the darkness the moment it is lit.
This is the time of year that marks the end of the harvest season for olives, the fruit of one of the most modest and self-denying trees in existence. This is a tree that hardly demands a thing and stands sturdy and graceful for years on end. Dry or rainy, hot or cold, the olive tree can endure it all and still emerge strong. Silently, this survivor, who has been around for over 6,000 years, produces olives that provide us with oil for our light, food for our health, balms for our wounds, softeners for our skin, and more.