the first night of chanukah

When Alexander was little, we celebrated Chanukah.  Every night we'd light the menorah and say the blessing.  While my son never mastered the four questions, this one blessing he knew.  And every night, for eight nights, I would give him a carefully wrapped present I had kept hidden in my bedroom closet.

It was always easy finding the right gift.  Books with a theme of trucks or emergency vehicles were always welcome.  Play Mobile sets of any kind. And anything Lego, as these were probably my son's favorite.  I spent tons of money on beautiful Brio wooden pieces for Alexander's train set, though he never liked them as much as his Lego's.  Brio was my favorite, not his.

But that was then.

Now, I don't even send out holiday cards;  I don't receive many either.  I wonder if I've fallen off lists, or like myself, many have cut back on this annual tradition. I like to think it's the latter.

Most of the cards I now receive are from people I don't know well, or don't know at all — my doormen, my super, my handyman, the NY Times delivery person, the Poland Spring driver, and the various schools my son and I have been— or are— affiliated with.  Very few are from friends.

Similarly, I don't exchange gifts with anyone.  I am envious of my friends who do, even offering to help.  Just recently, I sent both M and Hazel  a list of under $25 ideas (The Grommet and Uncommon Goods are two great sites to visit).

I will get my son something, and of course will tip the guys in my building, but that's about it. 

Except for the BAFTA screeners.  Almost every day, between late November and late December, I get a package.  In it, are one or more DVD's.   Because I vote for the BAFTA Awards, studios send me the films they think are deserving of recognition.  Receiving close to 50 DVD's of movies playing in theaters (or about to be released) makes me very very popular during the holiday season.

So tonight is the first night of Chanukah.  Alexander is at school studying for his last final.  

Two nights ago he called me totally stressed.  "My Nutrition (Health and Society) exam was so hard.  I don't think I did well.  The professor asked questions about...." And he went on and on, becoming increasingly anxious the more he spoke. And of course so did I.

But late this afternoon Alexander calls to tell me he got a 90 on the exam he was freaking out about the other day. 

What a  perfect gift for the first night of Chanukah. I'd love more of the same for the nights coming up.