But picture books that use animals as metaphors for human identities have not gone away. Seuss probably wasn’t referring to us specifically it might have been an allegory for the civil rights movement, or a generic vision of anti-discrimination, or a belated attempt to soften his racist legacy. There are more Jewish picture books now than there were when I was a kid, and Dr. Since I didn’t have any other books about Jews (with the excellent exceptions of Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins and The Mouse in the Matzah Factory), it makes sense that I would do the work necessary to connect the dots between the star-less Sneetches, kept out of the best beaches and hot dog parties, with my rudimentary grasp of Jewish history. I knew that Jews were a minority, given that I was always the only one in my entire class and my classmates often didn’t even know what Jews were. Thrifting Judaica allows Jewish memories to live on through the use of these objects during our holidays it helps bridge the gap between Jewish communities of the past, present and future.When I read The Sneetches as a kid, I decided that it was about anti-Semitism. Of course, much of my understanding of the previous owners is completely speculative - but I’m still able to learn about each piece’s history, and I love to connect the dots and imagine how they came to be a part of a family before landing on a secondhand shelf. Adding to this small collection of mine, which currently features five menorahs and a seder plate, has given me a chance to connect with past Jewish communities in a way I never thought possible. While I’m not necessarily looking for these pieces when I pop into a thrift store, I’m always delighted when I find them. But I know that it was well-loved by its original owners, and I hope that I can show it the same respect and appreciation. I have no way of knowing when it was last lit, or by who, or why it was sent to an antique store to find a new home. This particular piece shows its age and use through the collection of dust and cobwebs that surround the candle wicks still peeking out of each cups. This area features Jewish day schools, Hadassah chapters and a Jewish community center, which leads me to believe this menorah was once central to a loving and active Jewish community. Based on the zip code located on the sticker, this menorah was sold near the Kensington neighborhood, which has had an established Jewish community since before WWII. The pewter one, however, has a sticker on the bottom that says it was made in 1994 in India and sold by Aviv Judaica Imports, Ltd. I’m not sure when it was made, but the back is stamped with “Oppenheim” and “Israel,” so I at least know the manufacturer and location of production. A blue one with brass accents is bright and vibrant, reminding me of the way you feel when you celebrate Hanukkah with your loved ones. While much more demure than the the Godinger, these menorahs are special to me in their own way. My most recent finds come from antique malls located in a Florida town where I wouldn’t have expected to see any type of Judaica. How this piece made its way into a thrift store, I’ll never know, but I like to think the traditions of whatever family may have owned it are now being kept alive: It still sits on a windowsill every year for the holiday. Their Hanukkah celebrations would have included the best of Bubbe’s homemade latkes with all of the applesauce and sour cream in the world, piles of gelt for the kids to play dreidel, and a collection of presents and toys to accompany their celebration of the Festival of Lights. Looking at this piece, I imagine the family who owned it enjoyed extravagant things. It had a touch of tarnish from age, bits of candle wax still nestled deep inside each of the cups and a sticker on the base that told me I could take it home for just $9.99. It caught my eye immediately, standing out among the various knick-knacks and tchotchkes that surrounded it. One of the very first pieces I found, and arguably my favorite, is a Godinger silver-plated tree of life menorah produced sometime in the ‘90s. Dreidels with the paint wearing off, seder plates that have been through countless Passovers, chipped ceramic Shabbat candle holders, menorahs with remnants of candle wax from Hanukkahs of yore - each piece tells a story, one that I hope to connect with through my collection of such items. Going to a thrift store and finding a piece of Judaica, whatever it may be, feels like finding a piece of home or family I haven’t met yet.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |