In light of the mini-kerfuffle over Natalie Portman’s Christmas tree, I offer this recycled post from two years ago. (New something coming soon, but this will do for now…)
When we were little, my sister and I really wanted a Christmas tree.
We did not want Christmas.
We had no problem with Christmas, but we were perfectly happy with Hanukkah. We liked being Jewish. We loved potato latkes and we got eight night’s worth of presents. So we never felt as if we were missing out on that score. Plus, as a religious minority, we got to partake in a fair share of Majority Culture’s fun. We sang Christmas carols in the school concert and participated in classroom gift exchanges.
Outside of school, Mom let us stand in line so we could sit on Santa’s lap (we always told him we were Jewish and he always wished us a Happy Hanukkah). And our parents took us on an annual nighttime ride around the city during which we oohed and ahhed at houses and houses dressed for the season. They’d pull over, leaving…
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the sentence factory 