Friday

Candlesticks


They are not beautiful or shiny like other candlesticks you may have seen. As a matter of fact, they wobble a bit from side to side – uneven in their old age. And as I look at my grandmother’s brass candlesticks, I know with all certainty that they are priceless.

Dorothy Malkin was love. She was pride. She was confidence and humor. She was intelligence and dignity. She was Dove soap and Clinque face cream. Broiled salmon and steamed broccoli. Story teller. Advocate. Secret-keeper. Junk food dealer. Dream believer.

When I got married, she gave me her grandmother’s candlesticks. I am not sure if my grandmother lit candles each Friday night, or whether her mother did. It is possible these tall and solid pieces were not used regularly for decades. Before the wedding she told me that they were to be my gift. She shared that she had intended to leave them to me when she left the world but a friend suggested she give them to me then and there…so that she could watch me enjoy them. And in my home, the candlesticks have been put to use each Friday night.

She was there for all of my dance performances and school plays, my graduations and applications. Banged up bicycles and backflips. Bellyaches and boyfriends. She was there to walk down the aisle and to share in the joys of my new marriage. She was there to witness the birth of our miraculous firstborn. To rock and sing to him, feed him cheerios and laugh at his energy.

And then, she was gone. Taking with her all of the light, joy, and miraculous ability to make each and every person in her path feel entirely perfect and wonderful and special. And she was not here when our second beautiful son was born. She was not here for the purchase of our first home where the candlesticks proudly stand. She was not here when I started a business inspired by hers. She was not here for the birth of our precious baby girl Dorothy, named after her, just months ago.

But each Friday night, I light. I light the candles she gave me and I pray a special prayer for each child. And I know that one day our little Dorothy will light candles in these very special candlesticks. I pray that through my genes and Hashem’s miraculous wonders … each of our children, and their children and theirs and on forever…will have as much of my grandmother in them as is possible - that candles in these candlesticks will continue to shine bright on Friday nights far into the future.

They may not look worth their weight in brass but they are priceless to me.

--Bergenfield, NJ