A prayer for Chanukah

Master of the World, the days are short and the nights are long, and we light candles. One candle on the first night, and one more each evening, until the window is full of light.

And I stand before the small flame and ask not to rush. To look at it for a few minutes, quietly, the way one gazes at the candles and does not make use of their light.

Let me learn from these candles. I do not need to drive out all the darkness at once. I need to add one light, and then another: a kind word, a small deed, a short prayer.

There are dark places in my life that I prefer not to look at. Let me bring a little light there, without fear and without shame.

And let me not put out other people's light. Not to belittle, not to criticize quickly, not to weaken whoever is trying to shine in their own way, even if it differs from mine.

And when we stand before the candles with the children and sing, let this moment be engraved in them. Let them remember not the gifts and not the doughnuts, but the feeling that the light passes from hand to hand and from generation to generation.

And let the light of our home go outward, to the street, to whoever passes by and sees. Let us be a source of light in the world, and not of more darkness.

And let me believe that a small light can drive away great darkness, and that my small candle too has a place in the world, and that light given to others does not grow less.