Jack be nimble, Jack be quick.

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These candlesticks have little or no value. They are not made of precious metal. They’re only 1″ high. And yet, I treasure them.

They were a gift to me around 1970 or 1971. I was 9 or 10 years old. A good friend, a neighbor gave them to me. I really don’t know why. I wasn’t particularly religious or interested in Judaism at that time. (It was before youth group involvement, too.) I did have some miniatures and dolls. But I can’t imagine that’s why she gave them to me.

And I can’t really figure out why I still have them.

And more than that? I’ve always, and I mean always known where they were. Through college years. And then through 6 apartments, 1 house, 1 apartment (yes, again), and now 3 houses later (phew) I always knew where these candlesticks were.

Is it a coincidence that the little girl who gave these to me became a very observant Jew as an adult? And is it a coincidence that I light the Shabbat candles with my family nearly every week?

If I look closely, I can see some wax in the metal from when I lit birthday candles there.

And it makes me smile.

I’ve considered giving these candlesticks to a someone, maybe one of my amazing nieces, but truth be told, I can’t imagine anyone caring for them as I have.

Why do I have them? Why do I care?

I don’t know. But I do.

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