By Ellen Kaner Bresnick, WLCJ Executive Committee, Convention Programming Vice Chair
During the years when I was growing up, my mother always told me that I was born on the first night of Chanukkah. She recounted how I, her first child, was her special Chanukkah gift that year. Many years later, I did find out that actually my Jewish birthday was on the third night of the holiday, the evening of the twenty-seventh day of the month of Kislev. That revelation did not deter me or my celebratory inclinations in any way, though. I gravitated towards that holiday because I realized that I could include the months of Kislev and Tevet, the two that included Chanukkah on the Jewish lunar calendar, as extensions of my birthday celebration time.
As a child this attitude usually worked very well for me as any parties on my secular birthdate were often delayed because New England weather, and in particular that of Massachusetts, was pre-disposed to frequent December blizzards. 
On the one hand, those snowy events meant “no school” announcements, a last-minute gift for all children who really needed that day off, and certainly a special gift for a birthday girl who was pre-disposed to wanting to spend more time in a warm bed reading whatever favorite mystery book, usually an Agatha Christie or later a Mary Higgins Clark, had been given to her as part of her birthday or Chanukkah gifts. But on the other hand, with such a day off, only my family instead of my friends could easily wish me “Happy Birthday” and usually, those greetings came as I was thigh-deep in the icy snow trying to shovel it off our driveway rather than finding myself in the warm confines of my bedroom.
I think that it was from all of those blizzard birthdays that I decided in the future, in my own house, I would have numerous Chanukkiot as part of any Chanukkah celebrations. The lights and the flames emanating from the colorful holiday candles always enhanced the happiness I was feeling as I got a year older, and they certainly gave me at least another week when I felt as if I could legitimately celebrate my birthday for longer than the single day afforded me on the secular calendar. In my young mind, my special day was forever intertwined with eight more days to celebrate, even if Chanukkah did not present itself immediately before or after December 13.
Later, as an adult who had moved to places with a variety of weather conditions, I quickly realized that the length of time on which I celebrated my birthday was no longer determined solely by snow-related conditions, and I needed to adjust my expectations about how long I could actually celebrate. Furthermore, I also came to realize that every Jewish holiday, both minor as well as major ones, needed to be accorded its own importance and could not become subservient to my personal birthday celebrations.
One of the catalysts for this change was my realization that horrible events were happening around me, with some of them occurring very close to my birthday. In particular, on December 14, 2012, terrible shootings took place at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut. After having spent so many years as a classroom teacher who was always surrounded by her students, I could not help but think repeatedly of the terror that those heroic teachers and students endured that day, and it was then that I found I no longer wanted to celebrate my birthday in quite the same way I had when I was younger. Additionally, I needed to “take stock” of who I was so as to gauge how I was coping with my life and with these shocking events that all of us were unfortunately experiencing so routinely. And I knew that my birthday could serve as the perfect occasion for this close examination.
Many of you who know me well have heard me expound frequently on the topic of “Taking Stock” writings. I am a true believer in this kind of writing which often forces us to reflect on how we spend our days on earth especially during those times when we might not have the clarity we need in our thoughts. For me, these writings become a place where I can safely thresh out the complex emotions I am experiencing at any time. As other school shootings, once thought to be impossible events, have become so frequent, I have often wondered in these writings whether we have become horrifyingly immune to the effects that these events have on us. Furthermore, I know our Jewish hearts and souls have broken into innumerable pieces since October 7, 2023, and lately we have been wondering if anyone else is out there to help us try to put our world back together. Our fully-developed “Taking Stock” writings can at least work with us to find the person within us during those moments when one might feel very alone.
For many years, I saw great value in doing this kind of writing only a few times during the year. There was never a very specific time when I did it. Often, if I could not sleep, I would complete a “Taking Stock” list in my head. This worked for a while for me, but in recent days I have found that many of the negative events in my world have affected my ability to create such a list in any form.
Instead, I have found that a more detailed “Taking Stock” written on or near our birthdays can also put me in touch with what I have accomplished or not accomplished over certain established time periods in my life. In much the same way that I give an accounting during the High Holy Days of how I have filled my days during one particular year, I like to look at my birthday as another opportunity for doing this. I try to keep elements of growth in it, but certainly there has been less of that positive tenor in my writings as many strongly negative events have taken hold so firmly in my daily life. And because as a child I had already gotten used to having a longer period set aside for celebrating my birthday, I had established a built-in period for this more enhanced kind of writing.
I even found a reference in one of my books that suggested that a person’s birthday should be viewed as a mini-Rosh Hashanah, the holiday which celebrates the birthday of the world. This writer was a proponent of the idea that we should spend our birthdays reflecting on our lives as we do on Rosh Hashanah. He further stated that in fact, many of the tefillot (prayers) that we recite during the High Holidays actually suggest this “Taking Stock” writing style by listing the kinds of sins that we may have committed during this pre-selected time period. There is no escaping how we have spent a specific time in our lives when we are confronted with such a list that begins with the words Ashamnu — I have sinned.
I recognize that I still have to begin my writing for this year but I already know that it will be more difficult to do. I did not complete one of these birthday “Taking Stock” writings last year because I was still recovering from being in the hospital and in a coma for six weeks and I had to process all of that as well as the savagery of October 7 and the anti-Semitism that followed it in this country. But I have promised myself that this year, I will do this writing.
I know how important it is.
Shabbat Shalom, Everyone!
Ellen Kaner Bresnick
WLCJ Executive Committee, Convention Programming Vice Chair
ebresnick@wlcj.org
