The match lives for but three seconds.
It lies sleeping for months, maybe years,
in a sealed and dry box,
deep in a kitchen junk drawer,
just waiting for the moment when its
light
E * X* P*L*O*D*E*S!
in a puff of electric blue and dandelion yellow,
producing unparalleled energy,
and for that fleeting time while it glows so brightly
in that quiet darkened room,
before it sputters,
and is snuffed out.
Oh, what power that match has
for it kindles the candle
that shimmers and shines,
reflecting a message of hope
in the eyes of a small child
who watches
and believes in the power of miracles
The match,
the tiniest gift that ignites others
and then is gone,
but its message lingers on.
Image created by AI
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלוֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם אֲשֶׁר קִידְשָׁנו בְּמִצוֹתָיו וְצִיוָּנוּ לְהַדְלִיק נֵר שֶׁל חַנֻכָה
Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tsivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah.
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יי אֱלוֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם שֶׁעָשָׂה נִסִּים לַאֲבוֹתֵינוּ בַּיָּמִים הָהֵם בַּזְּמַן הַזֶּה
Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, she-asah nisim la’avoteinu bayamim hahem bazman hazeh.
A post about potato latkes and my grandparents! I hope you enjoy it!
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