The Menorah

Devorah Goldstein parks up her black Lincoln town car. She anxiously looks around the streets on both sides turns around and looks out to the car's rear. The neighborhood spooks her, even though it's her city. She isn't comfortable traveling outside her community. Devorah is conscientious she stands out and is an easy open target. On such trips, she likes the security of company but today she's alone. She waits until a group of three nattering women pass by. She nervously repeats her scan of the surroundings.

Devorah alights the car, locks it, and again anxiously looks around her. She is fifty-nine and never has been so afraid in her city. She's conscious she sticks out around here. Every blade of hair is covered with a black head scarf. Her five-foot-three-pound frame is covered in a tailor-made formal black dress that extends to her ankles, accompanied by a matching suit jacket. Her black designer-framed glasses complement her chubby face with checks that conform to create a double chin.

She waddles at an increased pace she struggles to maintain. An invisible shadow follows her, terrorizing her that at any moment she'll be verbally or physically assaulted. She clutches her designer handbag tightly. Her breathing grows more labored with every step and pounding heart. Her chest tightens with fear as a male approaches in the distance.

She spots the sign for the Antique Store, She scurries into the doorway and rings the bell. The man walks by spitting on the ground. She gasps horrified.

On hearing the doorbell Vanessa looks at her CCTV. She smirks at the sight of the stout orthodox lady. Vanessa grew up in rural Alabama two hours outside Montgomery Alabama. Her Parents ran a small gas and service station off Highway 82. They attended Church every Sunday however, despite the Christianity, the kkk had a strong presence in the area. Those that didn't fit their racial profiling didn't fit in and didn't belong and one group in particular was responsible for it all, Jewish people. With time those prejudices appeared to vanish however the tensions in the Middle East over the past year opened up those prejudices she thought she had buried away.

She grabs her black-and-white Palestinian keffiyeh, which she wears with pride at all the Free Palestine Rallies. She scowls at the CCTV and decides to make her wait a little bit longer—she is early after all.

Devorah checks the time on her Rolex. It is 9.58 a.m., and her anxiety levels reach a fever pitch. She looks inside the store, but there is no sign of anyone. She rings the buzzer again, waits a few seconds, and knocks.

As Vanessa adjusts the Keffiyeh on herself, she asks herself 'Vanessa what are you doing?', with a change of heart she removes it.

Devorah squints as hard as she can into the store, eventually she can see a tall athletic blond lady about thirty-eight dressed in a blue jumpsuit and athletic build slowly come to the door.

"Shalom I have an appointment" gasps Devorah.

Vanessa slowly looks her up and down She stares at the expensive gold Star of David necklace and designer handbag. Upon seeing this lady is wealthy, she symbolizes everything that her old prejudices thrived on. She licks the inside of her mouth while her mind wafts with greed, and decides to toy with the lady.

"There are no appointments this morning" she lies with a false tone of sweetness.

Devorah recognizes the insincerity in her tone, she has experienced it numerous times before "Oy Vey! This is Meshuggeneh, I rang on Monday, and I will plotz if I came all this way for nothing" She extends out her hands "Can you be a mensch and accommodate me" she pleads.

Vanessa frowns and angles her head faking contemplation "Come in!" a hint of hostility purposely added to her tone.

Vanessa moves aside, directing Devorah in. Her mind plots extracting as much money as she can from this rich woman who symbolizes everything she hates.

Devorah's muscles tense and her breathing labors in anticipation of the hostility that awaits her. She shuffles in anxiously despite this she promises herself 'I will not be treated like a shmatte by this Golem. I'll get what I came for

Vanessa powers ahead, behind her the sound of Devorah's heavy breathing as she struggles to keep up
"I shlepped from Williamsburg, it's now" Devorah determined not to be denied her time due to prejudice.
Vanessa grimaces at her New York Yiddish accent and her constant use of Yiddish. A language she doesn't know or care about. She intentionally ignores Devorah, enjoying undermining her.

Vanessa stands behind a standing counter "Sorry, I never asked what the name was?" her tone far from apologetic.

Devorah sighs in disbelief "Devorah Goldstein" as she glances around the tightly shelved antique store with items from bygone times. Her mind is focused only on finding the item she thinks to herself 'This is a Shande, treating me like this, if you don't like us don't sell our history, you Putz'

Vanessa opens a black A4 diary, flicking through pages and pretending to be looking through her schedule. "Let me see GOLDSTEIN!!" Her tone is antagonistic. "Ah GOLDSTEN", "of course yes, apologies a misspelling" a blatant lie that Devorah can spot a mile away.

Devorah feels a lump in her throat, hurt and horrified at this reaction to her presence. Adjusting her posture to a more upright position and pursing her lips in defiance. Despite the temptation to say 'My Geld has the same value as everyone else', she lets it slide, deciding best not to give her a victory and get involved in her childish game. Instead, she responds with "I knew I wasn't the Klutz!"

Vanessa closes the diary and puts an artificial smile on her face. "So Mrs Goldstein" in her false tone of sweetness "what in my wonderful collection interests you?"

Devorah shakes her head in annoyance "Making me Schvitz and wait with your Schtick, the Menorah"

"The Menorah OF COURSE" Vanessa's sneery voice dripping in sarcasm. She points towards a three-foot square oak table and matching chairs on each side "Take a seat, Mrs Goldstein, I'll be with you shortly!"

Devorah pulls out a chair and sits. The chair creaks underneath her weight. She rests her left hand on her breastbone. She thinks about her five children "Shlomo, Yosel, Moshe, Golda, and Heneh. She wonders if at her age they too will be inexplicably discriminated against.

From behind a shelf of oriental vases, Vanessa glares at Devorah's back. Her mind raced on how she could extract a huge sum from Devorah. She remembers her Keffiyeh, she thinks about returning wearing it but abandons the thought as it might affect closing a very profitable deal.

The hairs rise on the back of Devorah's neck and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat with the uneasy feeling that Vanessa or someone else is watching her, she dares not turn around. In her community, she is a well-respected mother and businesswoman in the garment industry for women and children with shops in New York, Israel, London, Paris, and Vienna. However, outside her community, she's nothing and made feel like nothing. She wonders how others are treated here, no doubt better than she is.

Vanessa carefully lifts a worn teak cabinet with double doors that when closed form the Star of David and places it on a trolley. She stares at the box again '$600 for it!' The Menorah came with the box but she's going to use the box as an extra cash cow. She can hardly contain herself.

Vanessa returns with a trolly carrying a worn teak cabinet with double doors that when closed form the Star of David.
Devorah stares open-eyed at its beauty. If the cabinet is this beautiful what is the Menorah like?

"Before I start presenting the Menorah Mrs Goldstein the box is not included and is an additional $600".

Devorah adjusts her glasses and gives a slight laugh, Vanessa's stunt isn't lost on her.

Vanessa removes two pairs of white cotton gloves from the trolley "Mrs Goldstein if you wish to touch the Menorah, you will have to wear a pair of these which come at a cost of $20"

Devorah gapes in disgust at this preposterous demand "Your Chutzpah is Nish keet with this Meshuggeneh demand but I'll pay it, I've no choice" extending her hands outwards in dismay.

Vanessa is clueless about what she means but she doesn't care she places a pair of gloves towards her on the table but far enough that she has to lean forward.


Vanessa slowly opens the cabinet with the double doors swinging outwards. The inner light blue velvet lining housing a silver Menorah gleaming as good as the day it was first made".

Devorah is immediately drawn towards it, her eyes swell with tears. A 1920s Menorah by Emil Hermann. Vanessa carefully lifts it out. Devorah raises her hands towards it like a mother getting to hold her child for the first time after giving birth. "It's heavy, be careful!" warns Vanessa.

Slowly she places the Menorah into Devorah's shaking hands. Devorah feels the energy of her ancestors some who perished for their faith and others who just about survived radiating from the Menorah. She gently traces her fingers along every part of it. It sounds just like the one her ninety-four-year-old mother describes, except this one has a Star of David in the Middle.

For as long as Devorah can remember every year at Hanukkah her mother repeats the same story, as she gently caresses the Menorah, she plays the story in her mind. Munich Tuesday 24th, 1940, Zofia Fischbein stands with her family as they light the first candle on the Menorah. A wedding gift to her parents from her paternal grandparents. Her mother would stare at it mesmerized by its beauty as she would trace each of the elements along it. Two nights later her mother Chaya woke her up at two am. "Shhhhhhhhhhhhh Zofia, we have to go" her mother helped her dress, in the other room her father frantically dressed her other younger sisters Brina and Mirele.

By the rear Kitchen door stood one large brown suitcase and one smaller shoulder bag. Her father kneeled in front of the girls, worry etched over his face "Girls we are going on an adventure, you must be quiet at all times". Silently their mother opened the kitchen door. At the bottom of the garden, a small wooden gate hung opening onto a back alley. They slowly opened the gate and gently shut it. At the foot of the alley was a truck with a tarpaulin green canopy. The driver was examining the engine. A tiny section of the canopy was pushed back behind the driver's cabin. They squeezed into the tiny space and pushed the tarpaulin back into position. The driver tied up the tarpaulin and began to move.
They sat cramped in a tiny corner of the truck, hidden by large wooden pallets of bottled beer. Throughout the journey, they dare not speak just stopping twice in two very remote areas for brief toilet breaks. After 7 hours on the rickety old truck, it began to slow. Her mother could still visualize the anxiety on her parent's faces. Eventually, the truck stopped, outside the sound of male voices talking in German. They could hear the main tarpaulin cover at the front being opened and swiftly closed, the truck began to move again.
Thirty-five minutes later, the truck came to a halt. They sat nervously as the tarpaulin rope beside them was untied. They made it to Switzerland.
A member of the Ładoś Group picked them and they hid again in the back of a small pickup truck, finally to a safe house hidden in the Alps. Her mother could still feel the cold. Six days later they received their fake Argentinian passports and boarded a flight to Buenos Aires. They waited for days in a dingy apartment somewhere on the city outskirts, unable to leave. One day there was a knock on the door, her father rushed into the dark living area "Gather your stuff, we are going." The man gave flight documents to her father and dropped them at the airport. They flew to New York where a member of the American Federation of Jews from Central Europe met them and helped them with their refugee status.
Her mother spoke of her disappointment that this beautiful Menorah never made the journey with them.

Vanessa's smile doesn't reach her eyeballs, she delights at the emotional connection Devorah has with the Menorah, as the dollar amounts in her head just multiply. She doesn't get her connection, in her eyes it's a rich old lady fawning over what will be an overpriced candlestick.

Up until High school she worked helping in her Parent's service station, eventually, she got bored of the quiet rural life and at eighteen decided to move to Montgomery and get a more action-packed life. Here she got a job in a small antique store, she was fascinated by international glassware, artwork, and, furniture. She saved up and traveled around Europe and Asia, and suddenly her mind was open to new cultures and Ideas. She wanted to stay and get more so she returned home worked again, completed an online course for teaching English, and got a job teaching in France. Here she toured the art galleries and antique stores in her spare time. Eventually, she managed to get extra cash from the hand job working in an antique store in Paris. Her love of antiques grew stronger and stronger. She returned home, determined to continue her love, and completed an Education program on antiques. Once completed she got a job working for an internationally acclaimed antique dealer in the UK. After ten years she decided to return home and set up her own. She now had an extensive contact list to do so. She set up shop deep in suburban Yonkers.

She settled in, her past prejudices well in the past until October 7th, 2023. The day Hamas entered Israel, She watched in horror. Then came the Israeli response, and her horror multiplied. She joined the first Free Palestine Rally. As the war went on her rage towards Israel intensified. Slowly her old antisemitic prejudices began to root again.

Vanessa looked at her watch, she wanted rid of her. Her fawning was boring her now "You have quite a bond with this Menorah Mrs Goldstein" forcing herself to make small talk "Have you nice plans for it?"

Devorah runs her fingers over the perfectly crafted decorations in awe of the master craftsman who completed the work "My son Shlomo is to wed the Rebbe's daughter Rochel, I will gift it to them"

"Congratulations", Vanessa wishes insincerely as she calculates in her mind how much extra this news can increase the price tag.

Devorah smiles with pride "I've kevelled like a yenta. The Rebbe and Rebbetzin are Mishpocheh to us."

Vanessa rolls her eyes to Heaven she hasn't a clue what she means "I'm sure it will look nice in their new home."

Devorah adjusts her glasses " Yes, when they make Aliyah. Shlomo will continue his Rabbinic studies and Rochel wishes to rebuild Kibbutzes after the October pogrom"

Vanessa rolls her hands into tight fists, her teeth grit, and her eyes narrow onto Devorah who is paying her no attention. 'No you don't, no you don't' she says to herself. With her mast firmly on the Palestinian side, she removes the Menorah from Devorah and places it just outside the box.

Devorah paralyses with fear as she stares at the fiery glare from Vanessa who slides a manila envelope towards her on the table "All documentation is in this".

Devorah shakes opening the envelope, she tries to hide her fear but can't. Hate for her flowing from Vanessa like a river. She reads through the documentation, the history, its journey, and the authentication of originality.

Vanessa took a few breaths, she reels back in her anger, such aggression will not help her financial extraction plan.

Devorah composes herself "Why do you sell this beautiful Menorah?"

Vanessa checks the time on her watch, she wants her money and her out "It's all there. A contact in London is retiring, he had stock he wanted to sell off, and he convinced me to take it from him.

Devorah puts the paperwork back in the envelope. She stares in awe at the Menorah and prays quickly to herself that she will touch it again. Her heart drops at the thought of how this woman could so cruelly whip it from her grip. It's ideally placed in front of her, close enough for her to see but far enough for her not to touch.

Vanessa crosses her legs confidently and steeples her hands "So Mrs Goldstein you clearly have a connection how much? Her voice and body language oozes confidence and arrogance.

Devorah sits back and rests her palms on her stomach contemplating. She opens out the palms of her hands "What is your price". Devorah braces herself for the inevitable markup.

Vanessa smirks delighted the game is on "$10,000"

Devorah shifts uncomfortably in her seat at the price but she isn't shocked. She realises whatever she does she can't win.

Devorah clears her throat making eye contact with Vanessa "That's a lot of Gelt, it isn't $10,000"

Vanessa half smiles "Your right it isn't $10,000, more like eleven or twelve!".

Devorah gasps at her arrogance and shakes her head in disgust shaking her right index finger at her "You're trying to kvetshn me".

Vanessa clears her throat and leans forward "Give me a cash offer Mrs Goldstein?"

"I don't carry cash it's not safe"

"Such a shame Mrs. Goldstein", sarcasm oozes from Vanessa's tone "Cash is King, there is a bank three blocks down".

Devorah clenches her fists, her voice quivers, "This is not a second-hand car sale this is an important piece of my heritage"

Vanessa angles her head at her delighting in the rise she is giving "Mrs Goldstein, I would not dare disrespect your heritage" her tone openly insincere "But I'm a businesswoman and if you aren't in a position to make a cash deal it leaves me very little wiggle room".

Devorah fumes at this blatant lie "I'm a businesswoman too and I know when someone is Schlepping me, your Chutzpah is Meshuggeneh. I am not some Bubbe that's your cash machine".

"Mrs Goldstein" Vanessa's tone direct "You either want it or you don't, if you do, NAME YOUR OFFER!".

Devorah rubs her double chin as she eyes up the Menorah, she really can't leave without it, she accepts she will pay over the value but it the over the value she needs to control. She knows $5000 is a more reasonable price but she won't get it "$6000 is a fair price!"

Vanessa laughs hysterically there is no way she is going to sell at that price "Mrs Goldstein, seems to be that I value your heritage more than you!".

The comment cuts through Devorah like a knife "Golem!" her voice trembles with anger "You know Bupkis about my heritage! You treat me like a Shmatte. You want to nosh on my Gelt that's all." She bangs her right fist off the top of the table in anger "You will never experience the horrors of my people!"

"I can see the Menorah is highly personal to you" and in a tone as condescending as possible "The best I can do is $9000 and I will throw it in the cabinet for free"

Devorah zones into the Menorah, she has to have it, it's never been so close yet at the same time far away! She thinks to herself 'Hesham has answered my Daven, yet this Golem tries to extort me'. Tears well up in her eyes, her plans for her mother to present the Menorah to Shlomo and Rochel. At Hanukkah, they return from Israel briefly and her mother will light the Menorah. It's so identical to the one that your mother talks about, it can't get away not now.

"My Mamele and her mishpocha, fled the Shoah" her voice shakes with emotion. She points at the Menorah "They had one like that. For eighty-four years she daven to Hesham to see it one more time! She has Schlepped all this time for this! The one thing that connects her with our lost mishpocha slaughtered in the Shoah". She looks towards Vanessa and pleads "The next day after Mamele and her mishpocha fled, Goyim looted the house, stole the Menorah amongst other things, they took every photo and every book and burned them. For the last 84 years, the only images my Mamele has of those murdered are the images in her head and they are getting weaker and weaker".

Vanessa's emotions are split, for the first time she feels emotions of pity, she doesn't know exactly what Devorah is referring to but she knows it's a connection for those murdered in the Holocaust. She realizes the Menorah isn't just a cash cow for a rich lady she detests but a symbol for an old woman who has suffered and carried the weight of pain for years. The love Devorah has for her religion, her faith, and her family. The other side is the bad side, she doesn't want this lady to get the better of her.

Devorah places her hands forward with her palms outstretched "Please, Please be a Mensch and not a Golem".

Vanessa sighs and looks downwards, unable to look at her with shame and guilt. From her pocket, she draws a packet of tissues. Her conscience tells her she can't let this woman who has searched her life for this walk away without it. What sort of human would she be?

"Okay Devorah" for the first time her tone was genuine "Let's meet halfway $7500, the cabinet is free, the gloves forget, I'll wrap it nice and securely. As a goodwill gesture if you want I'll have it delivered for free". She picks up the Menorah and hands it back to her.

"Is that a deal?" Devorah's hands tremble as she receives the Menorah, she knows the lady is making a tidy profit but is relieved to see she has some humanity and says "Yes" at last it is hers.

She left Devorah alone, to allow her to bask on her purchase. After a few moments, she returns to complete the paperwork.

Do you need a courier, asks Vanessa. "No thanks" replies Devorah in disbelief that her mother's lifelong chase was now over. "I'm going to wrap this good and tight for you".

She wraps it up and presents it to Devorah. They give each other an awkward smile.

Devorah lifts the Menorah boxed and securely wrapped. The weight of it quickly weighs her down. "Wait!", it's Vanessa, she stops and turns around. Vanessa takes the Menorah from her and places it on the trolley. On her shop, she puts up a sign 'Back in five minutes'. Come on she says I'll bring it to your car.