The Chanukah Clown 4 0f 8

As a Chanukah Gift, here is part four (of 8) of the Chanukah Clown. Copyright Steve Schatz 2018 From  Share with others. Sign up for the mailing list and I will let you know the next time I serialize a story.

The Chanukah Clown by Erica Berent


The clown art is from my dear friend Erica Berent. Check out her art work at


Then his eyes fell on the little clown. He did not pounce. He did not shout. He just looked at the happy figure poised in its blue box and he smiled. He said, “This is the one. This little Chanukah Clown.”

A moment later, the clown was boxed and wrapped and bagged and tucked under the man’s arm as he hurried to the hospital.

Bursting into the hospital room, the old man waved the package at the two grownups standing sadly beside the bed, arms entwined as if trying to hold each other up, looking down at the dear child who lay so still. The child did not notice them or the menorah full of candles, ready for the lighting at sundown or the pile of gifts on the table nearby. She lay so still…within the touch of their hands, yet so far away and her mother and father could do nothing for her but watch and hope and pray.

“I have it! I have it!!” shouted the old man, braking through the quiet sadness which filled the room.

“Albert. There you are,” said the moth. “We thought you would miss the lighting of the candles. What do you have?”

He pushed the box at them. “It is a preset, but not just any present. It is THE present. It is the just exactly right, perfectly special and wonderful present, the one which will bring our sweet one back to us!”

The father’s eyes were angry as he grumbled, “What is this nonsense?”

“It is no nonsense. It will work. I am sure it will. Come, it is sundown. Let us light the candles and then you shall see.”

“Mother, I’ve had about enough of this brother of yours. What do you mean coming in from whatever end of the earth you have been wondering around to disturb us at this, our hour of sadness with some false hope? Why, I’ve got a mind to …”

“Papa. Papa. It is sundown. Put aside your differences. It is time to light the candles.”

And so they did. They lit the candles and thanked G-d for the miracle wrought so many years ago and for the continuous miracle of their being. They lit the candles and they remembered and they were thankful – as Jews all over the world were doing and had done and will do. And they were quiet and still as they looked at the menorah with its eight candles burning brightly and they believed in miracles.

“It is time for the gift,” said the old man at last and brought forth the box. With great ceremony, he pulled off the wrapping paper – all the while looking at the girl and then, with a slight hesitation, opened the box, pulled the clown out and held it out to the little girl.

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