He said nothing. He hugged Ben, and they both cried
My face hurt. Just the left side, but it hurt. I didn’t complain though; the boy standing across from me was hurt a lot worse.
Ben was sobering up. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. His hand was shaking. From the cold or from what he was about to do?
Neither of us spoke. What were we doing here, standing in the dark and cold on a deserted dirt road in the middle of nowhere?
Years ago, I worked several days a week at a yeshivah for boys who struggled with issues like ADHD, trauma, and substance abuse. Even after I left, I stayed in touch. On Chanukah I decided to join them for the traditional mesibah. There was singing, dancing, doughnuts. I love Chanukah — it’s a chag that is just filled with hope and connection.
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