The Weighted Dreidel

I almost missed a moment last night.

My children’s Chanukah packages were delivered by Michaela, a young volunteer who arrived at our door carrying four heavy boxes after getting lost on the bus ride over. We live in a Jerusalem neighborhood known for its confusing building layouts. In the few minutes of polite conversation that followed, we learned that she had made Aliyah on her own from South Africa just four months ago. Then she left.

After the door closed, my two older daughters turned to me and said—almost in unison—that they were sure I was about to invite her in for candle lighting and dinner.

She looked lonely.

The truth is, the thought had not crossed my mind.

I still had her number from the delivery coordination. I called her back. She returned, and together we lit the Chanukah candles. Over lox and bagels we talked, and later we sat down for our dreidel game.

Playing dreidel on the last night of Chanukah is our family’s tradition and the highlight of the holiday. We make a ceremony of it. The stakes are high. This year I prepared scratch vouchers, each hiding a small surprise beneath a gray sticker. Before the game began, every child had to create a scratch card offering something of their own in return.

After a few rounds, I complained that the dreidel must be weighted. The letters Gimmel and Hey were appearing far too often. I spun the small wooden, trusted dreidel myself to test it.

It landed on Gimmel.

Yes. Things come around again when we begin to notice.