A Maccabee in Iowa
A brand-new Hanukkah story for children ages 9-14
Aviva’s eyes looked all around the school corridor except forward. She didn’t want the two bullies to see fear in her eyes. Mandy and Parker stood so close that Aviva couldn’t move. She was pressed hard against her locker, so hard that the handle pressed painfully into her back.
She took a deep breath, then looked at Mandy’s forehead. “I’ve never done anything to you. Stop bothering me! Leave me alone!”
“You’re a servant of the Devil!” Mandy almost spat the words.
“What??” In the three months she had been in this school, these two girls had been bullying her, always when no teacher was near. They always had something nasty to say. Usually it was about what she didn’t know or didn’t do well. This was new.
Parker nodded. Then she spoke really slowly, the way you’d talk to a four-year-old. “You don’t believe in Jesus Christ. That means you are a servant of the Devil. You are pure evil. You just won’t admit it.”
Just then the second bell began to ring, the one that meant that if you weren’t in your classroom by the time it stopped, you were late. Mandy and Parker ducked into the room across the hall. The door shut behind them before the bell stopped.
Aviva would have to walk clear to the other end of the school for her class. She was going to be late—again.
I hate it here, Aviva thought. She dragged her feet on the way to the school bus later that day. I wish we could go home to Israel now. But her mother’s sabbatical was not over at the end of December. It went until the end of the school year in May.
Mom had looked forward to this sabbatical for a very long time. Tyler-Frinkyn College was very small, but its geography program was number one in the USA. The college trained teachers who won all kinds of awards, too. Mom came to study their methods so that she could teach them at her college in Israel.
In September, Aviva and her mother arrived in the USA. A few weeks later, terrorists from Gaza started a war in Israel. Overnight, professors and students started bullying her mother. Mom looked into ending the sabbatical right then, but she had signed a contract. The college said if she left, they would sue her. She couldn’t leave. The college wouldn’t let her work. They said it would cause problems.
Meanwhile, children in Aviva’s school were bullying her, and the bullying was getting worse. Aviva didn’t want to complain because her mom was already worried. She didn’t know what to do.
That night, after her mother thought she was asleep, Aviva made a video call to her best friend, Smadar, back home in Israel.
Before Aviva could say anything beyond Hello, Smadar started to talk. “My play won the contest! The fourth and fifth grades will put on my play about the Maccabees! They said I had a new approach!”
Aviva had been planning to complain to her friend. But she swallowed the whine. Instead she asked, “What does that mean?”
“Morah Inbar said that everyone else just retold the Chanukah story.”
“Weeeel, sure.” Aviva’s words stretched out. “What else is there to say?”
“I thought about things you’ve said about America. Suppose people talked about those kinds of things back in the Maccabees’ time? That’s what I wrote.”
“What kinds of things?” Aviva couldn’t think of anything that happened in Downette, Iowa that was like the Maccabees.
“Well, the war was because so many Jews didn’t want to live like the Syrian-Greeks. Think about sports teams. You said that sports are really important in your school. Since you didn’t play soccer the kids called you a loser. And you said when you first got there, one of the girls invited you to go to a high school football game on Friday night. Your mom made you stay home because it’s Shabbat, right?”
“What does that have to do with the Maccabees?” Aviva shook her head slowly. She didn’t see the connection.
“They have a different culture there, silly,” Smadar said. “They do things we don’t do, and we do things they don’t. Their things seem silly to you, and your things sound stupid to them. That’s just like the Syrian-Greeks! They worshiped lots of gods, we worship only one God who has just one name. They built huge arenas for sports. We build libraries and schools. They wanted everything to be beautiful, the Jews didn’t care. Don’t you remember that museum we went to in Ramat Aviv? The Israelite ceramics were much plainer than the Greek ones. My dad explained that our most important people have always been teachers, scholars, and students, not artists and athletes.”
Aviva nodded. “Yes, I remember. But what…” Her words drifted off as her eyes opened wide. “You’re right! The American culture is a lot like the Syrian-Greek culture! The girls think I’m crazy because I’d rather read or study than go to the mall. I think looking at clothes in shops is boring. They think school is boring.”
Just then Aviva’s mother opened the bedroom door. “Are you on the phone again? It’s late.”
Aviva turned the phone to her mom. “Say hi to Smadar,” she said.
“Hi Smadar. Say hi to your mother for me,” said Aviva’s mom. “Aviva has to go now, it’s late here.”
The girls said goodnight, and Aviva shut off her phone. It took her a long time to go to sleep. Smadar’s words kept going through her head. By morning, she had a plan.
That day she made sure to be at her locker early. Usually Mandy and Parker bothered her after gym class, when she was at the locker. They knew that her next class was on the other side of the building and theirs was just across the hall. They could make her late without being late themselves. Today would be different. Yes, there they were, coming toward her.
“You really miffed that easy ball today in gym,” Mandy began.
“Yes,” Parker followed up. “And…”
Aviva took a deep breath. Holding her books in front of her, she turned and faced them with a smile on her face. The smile was difficult and her hands were shaking, but she did her best to look confident. “You know, your comments always bothered me, but I never explained anything to you.” She spoke in a rush, not letting the others speak. “First, yesterday you said I was a servant of the devil because I don’t believe in Jesus. So was Jesus a servant of the devil? He was Jewish like me. And of course I’m different from you. Israel has a very different culture. We have lots of real different groups: Druze, Muslim, Christian, and others in addition to Jews. In my town, every school has a uniform, so clothes aren’t so important. Anyway, outside of school each group has its own style. And we have lots of big families, so..,”
Mandy interrupted. “You don’t have a father, right? I bet that’s because you were a terrible baby. I bet he left because you cried all the time.”
“Yeah,” piped up Parker.
Aviva took a deep breath. “No, my dad was killed by a terrorist when I was a baby.”
“Oh.” Biting her lip, Parker looked at Mandy, then back at Aviva. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks,” said Aviva. “It was long ago, and I don’t remember him. But I also wanted to explain that I’m bad at sports they’re new for me. We do exercises in gym, we don’t play sports so much. In my country, in our teams we learn to work together.”
Parker wrinkled her forehead. “What do you mean?”
“Well, working together and helping each other are really important. Everything isn't about winning, the way it is here. My cousin David plays trumpet in a group from school. They sometimes play at the old folks’ center. Last year in my cousin Leah’s youth group, each level wrote new words to tunes everyone knows. Then each group made up a dance to go with their song. They had a big program where we got to see all the dances. It was really fun. No one won or lost. No one felt badly because they messed up and made their team lose.”
She glanced at the clock at the end of the hall. Before the bullies could say anything else, she said, “Look, if you want to learn more about my culture, I’d be happy to tell you, but if I don’t run I’m going to be late to class. See you.”
She took off, leaving Parker and Mandy standing in the hall, staring at each other.
She reached her seat before the late bell rang. “I see you’re on time today, Miss BenAmi,” her teacher said.
“Yes,” she said. “And I think I’ve solved my problem. I think I’ll be on time from now on.” She smiled, opened her notebook, and got out her pencil. She would be a Maccabee, standing up for her people, her religion and her culture from now on. She’d already won her first battle, and it felt great.
For Parents, Teachers, and Others
Last week, in my essay Hanukkah, Then and Now, I went into more detail about the cultural issues that were central in the Maccabean War. The differences between traditional Jewish culture and the Syrian-Greek culture were profound. As that article points out, modern American culture is much more similar to the Syrian-Greek than to the traditional Jewish culture.
Here’s a puzzle that is designed to help children understand the similarities and differences of the cultures. Without explaining to them that the American is similar in many ways to the Syrian-Greek culture, let them try to assemble the puzzle. With a little thought, they can figure this out for themselves. I have used this puzzle with religious school kids in the USA with profound results.
Print the puzzle out (card stock is best) and cut it apart. As always, you can make as many copies as you want at no charge. A color printer is not necessary. The object is to arrange the pieces in the most sensible way. Give kids absolutely no other instructions; with thought they will figure it out.
If you disagree with your child, ask why he or she arranged a piece as s/he did. Sometimes this is due to a misunderstanding. However, often a child has excellent, valid reasons for arranging them differently than you would. But if they have not understood, simply give them more information and let them figure it out for themselves.
I learned about this kind of puzzle from The Workshop Way, www.workshopway.org. Their educational system is outstanding. It was designed by nuns; the principles work with anyone. The system is worth investigating.
Happy Hanukkah!
Hanna, I wish you could publish this!
As usual, very poignant story and the editing! I had nothing from you in my spam folder. AND, I always thought Hanukkah was aligned with the Christmas story. Thanks so much for all the enlightenment from you. I was always interested in the Jewish way of life and religion. I love your traditions. Remember when your Mom took me to your temple. Still remember things. The temple in Lexington is now huge and not in an historic house like it was in the late 50's. You're awesome, Hanna!!