The historical origin and facts of Chanukah are particularly familiar to those who have studied the eight-day miracle during which time this holiday came into being.

We children were not interested in the-historical facts, which were traditional with the Jewish religion, but-rather in the monetary aspects of the gifts.

I remember well a Chanukah game we played. Our father held pennies high above and dropped them on our heads, pretending that they had come from heaven because we had been good children all year.

We enjoyed the game as it served two purposes: one, some pennies went into the metal box for charity, and two, the rest of them went to buy wool for needlepoint on canvas, which was my sister's and my particular hobby.

In later years, I learned that the eight days of Chanukah represents a very important and jubilant holiday. Chanukah signifies our freedom from bondage, oppression, slavery and, most important, the rededication of the temple in Jerusalem. We enjoyed the festivities with the traditional food, such as, potato latkes, fried in geese fat and other delicacies.

I remember, while still a child, living in a suburb of Vilna, that we raised geese and, a short time before the holiday, my mother force-fed the geese dumplings to fatten them. I would watch them struggling with great compassion. Their eyes seemed to beg for mercy. Then came the plucking after they were slaughtered by the "schoichet". This was my job, and I dreaded it. However, in order to get the latkes, I was obliged to do the job, like it or not.

As children, we were luckier than most because of mother's bakery and grocery store. Food was plentiful for us while others were starving. I am reminded of a spectacle which has never faded from my memory. A woman bought a penny's worth of soursalt saying, as she did, "I’m going to make borsht for Chanukah". The soursalt was wrapped and she slid it into the back pocket of her long, wide skirt. I saw a young fellow furtively following-her. He lifted her skirt like a child lifting a bride's train and, walking in her footsteps, very carefully cut out her pocket. It was a comical and yet a very tragic sight. His mother was also one of our customers, and probably was waiting at home for the results of his petty larceny.

Many years later in New York, my sister and I went to the annual Vilna ball and recognized that same pickpocket. He looked very distinguished and prosperous. I said to my sister, "do you remember him"? She certainly did because of his strange way of walking, still furtively. We didn't dare approach him to tell him that we knew him from Novy Gorod, famous for "ganovim". In this country they became respectable citizens and successful business people.