A Different Kind Of Christmas

The last time I saw my brother was when I was on Christmas break. I had gotten the opportunity to travel and go see him. It was somewhat of a miracle in and of itself because it was a last-minute decision. Most of the students at the dorm had already made plans and were also traveling to go spend time with family for their Christmas break. As I looked at my passport, there was a sense of nostalgia and irony that came over me. Just about a year ago, it was him who had traveled home from college for the holidays.

When I flew in from the airport, I only had my suitcase, a carry-on, and my purse with me. It was about a two-hours' flight; just enough time to take a little nap, listen to some music, and have a little snack. As the plane headed for landing, I peered through the window to my right and noticed the city lights glaring at me. They looked familiar, and they seemed to be waving back at me. I felt as if a part of me had been left behind in this city.

My brother was a college student in Virginia before he ended up here in this little Jewish suburb of New York. He worked for different families as a housekeeper on the other side of town. He had to drop out of college halfway through his third year of college. Life dealt him a blow I thought was quite unfair, but through it, he learned that there was beauty on the other side.

That Christmas was one of the most memorable. Although I slept on the couch in the living room of the little apartment he shared with his roommate, it was worth it just to spend time with the little family I still had nearby. We did not have central heating, so we relied on little space heaters. I was the only female person in that apartment that Christmas. Early in the morning, I would hear him wake up, heat up some water to take his shower, and get dressed to go to work. I would normally roll over and fall back asleep on the couch once he stepped out the door. Later on when I would wake up, I would turn the tv on to see what program came on. Usually, it would be Gilad's fitness show. By the time he got home from work in the evening, it would be time for the Oprah Winfrey Show.

I found myself going on a couple of jobs with my brother. We took the sherut in the morning to make it to a couple of clients’ homes. He had his schedule down pact where he could clean two to three houses a day, depending on how big they were. I did my share of dusting furniture, vacuuming carpets, and sweeping floors to help him along. Although he often joked about being a housekeeper, he never let the drudgery of the work get him down. He was focused on his plans to make enough money to start a business. He also took the opportunity to converse with his clients and learned a couple of phrases in Hebrew.

This suburb in New York was somewhat different from any other. Although there was an increase in the number of immigrants to the Jewish suburb, the metropolitan area of the city remained the more cosmopolitan and diverse. The locals observed the Sabbath on Saturday. This meant local shops were normally closed on this day while normal business activities resumed on Sunday.

My brother had a neighbor who regularly observed the Sabbath. He used to come over sometimes on Saturday evenings when my brother didn't have anything to do and have Bible study with him. He happened to stop by on my first Saturday there. Of medium height and a little on the chubby side, his bearded face could only remind you of a younger version of Santa Claus. He carried a little brown briefcase with him, where he apparently kept his Bible and other books. My brother invited him in and introduced me to him. His name was Nick. He was rather jovial and free-spirited. He invited me to join them for the Bible study. I offered to bring him some coffee first, which he accepted.

We sat down to have the Bible study over coffee. Nick explained that normally during the spring and summer months, he liked to be outside on the balcony when he came over to see my brother. However, the living room was a better option during this time of year. He started us off with a prayer of blessing. He then opened up his Bible and read a couple of passages from it. As he read from the Bible, I realized that he had an accent. I wanted to ask him where it came from, but the more he read, the more I got distracted by his accent and the melodious sound it made.

Nick wanted to discuss trees, the significance of trees and their meaning. He asked us what we thought of them. Did we have any trees in our lives? What type of trees were they? And what role did they play? It was a profound discussion and a very poetic view of life. He called it a devotional. At the end of the discussion, he asked whether I had a Bible. I informed him that once upon a time, I had a little green Bible that was given to me on my college campus. "Well," he responded as he glanced at me through his round frames with his misty blue eyes. "You can have mine."

"Are you sure?" I asked as he handed me the Bible he had read from during the Bible study.

"Oh, I've got another one at home," he chuckled while closing his briefcase. "I've got plenty more at home." Nick surely warmed our hearts that Christmas holiday with his Bible reading and Bible study on trees.

On another Saturday when he was off from his duties, my brother decided to take me out on a tour. Everywhere we went, every sign we saw had Hebrew lettering. The signs on the sherut and subway, on the little mom and pop shops, and the street signs were all in English and Hebrew. We stopped at a memorial site and looked at a mural that was dedicated to Yitzak Rabin, a former Israeli Prime Minister that was well-known in the early to mid-nineties. We took a couple of pictures there in memory of him.

While in New York, I fell in love. Not with a person. I fell in love with the Menorah. As we traveled through the city on the sherut and through the busy streets, there was a Menorah everywhere on every corner. There were some that were silver, others that were gold, and still others that were wooden and some that were trimmed with imitation gemstones. There were all sorts of decorative Menorahs for all sorts of people. My eyes fell on one in particular that was to my liking. I had to stop and purchase it as a souvenir.

Two weeks had gone by, and my Christmas break was already over. I wished I could've stayed for a whole month, but it was already time to pack up my belongings and return to the dorm. I had to catch the next flight heading back home. As I was checking in my luggage, I noticed two security officers working in the area. As passengers made their way through the security checkpoint, they picked me out of the line to search.

"Had something alerted them?" I thought to myself. After they had inspected my carry-on and my purse, they cleared me and allowed me to continue through the security checkpoint. Once settled onboard the airplane, I leaned back in my seat and glanced through the window. It sure was a different kind of Christmas, but it was worth every moment that I spent there.