For a big box, it's surprisingly lightweight and so at first I'm thinking Ostrich Pillow. The reality turns out to be even more mind-blowing. It's a menorah, complete with wax drippings. I feel a ruach-ish jolt of recognition.
I grew up with several menorot on the family bookshelves, including one that looked exactly like this gift from the Hansens. The likelihood of inheriting that one is minimal. Mommy Dearest disowned me a couple of years ago in an exquisitely crafted typed letter with impeccable punctuation -- yet another upside of being formally disowned by a professional copy editor.Ironically, she did quasi-offer the wooden menorah someone on her side of my clinically nuts family smuggled out of a now non-existent shtetl in Eastern Europe. The Hansens know nothing about this twisted part of my abundantly twisted family of origin.
Clearly, a Power Greater Than All of Us does. My evidence? This handwritten note from David:
"In September 2008, I went to Galveston Island as part of the Lutheran Disaster Response relief effort following Hurricane Ike. After a cleaning a home (throwing most water logged possessions away) the home owner gave me this -- his family menorah. I knew you would appreciate it & use it."Indeed, amen, dayenu, and thank you.
