It’s the eighth night.
Chanukah is almost over.
It always slips by so quickly.
Not for the hostages.
They are desperately waiting to see the light of day.
What are we doing to help them?
Have we called the President today?
Have we called the Red Cross?
Have we engaged in good deeds in their merit.
Have we prayed?
Tonight, the last night of Chanuka, and tomorrow, the last day of Chanuka, has a special designation.
It’s called Zos Chanuka.
Literally translated as
THIS is Chanuka.
If Chanuka has slipped through our fingers, don’t worry, this is the most important part.
There is a Chasidic parable about a Rabbi who came very late to an appointment as the day was waning.
A cynical bystander asked if the appointment was of little consequence and therefore the Rabbi had just pushed it off and waited til the last minute to make his meeting.
Quite the contrary, answered the Rabbi, we know when we go to the market place all the best deals are available just before closing, so I am showing up now to get the most for my money, in this case arriving late will provide the most impact.
So too the last day of Chanuka.
There is still so much spirituality to be gained.
There is still a chance to change and connect.
The Rabbi of Ruzhin compares Zos Chanuka to Yom Kippur and says that on THIS day, a regular person can achieve the same heights that a holy person can achieve on Yom Kippur.
What do we do?

We want to hold on to the light and energy of Chanuka as we face the difficult days ahead.
We need to electrify ourselves with our personal efforts to grow to be the better version of ourselves. And just as our homes receive electricity via the thinnest of wires which are attached to the electric company miles away, we can take upon ourselves the smallest of commitments in personal and spiritual growth which will tether us to the light of Chanuka all year long.
Historically, the Chanuka miracle was the last overt miracle which Gd wrought.
It seems that the inspiration we were to derive from it was powerful enough to last until the arrival of Moshiach.
But in case we need inspiration, all we need to do is look at our heroes and heroines in Israel who are fighting for our survival and our producing an ephemeral light with their actions.
On October 7, Amichai Schindler was grievously wounded in his battle to save his family and his community. In 6 hours of fighting, Amichai, along with ten other men, were able to defend themselves against a massive onslaught of over 200 terrorists armed with rocket propelled grenades and heavy machine guns.
They prevailed.
In what was literally called a Chanukah type miracle, it was the many falling in the hands of the few.
Amichai lost both his hands in the battle.
His main concern is how he will hold his children.
And this week he was focused on how he would light a Chanuka candle.
He is using his days in a rehab facility, awaiting the opportunity to be fitted with prosthetics, by learning Torah and and as a social worker, bringing comfort to other wounded soldiers.
He is a Chanuka miracle and a light all wrapped up in one Chanuka gift.
Today, in Israel, the young, newly minted, widow of Major Elisha Levinstern was arriving at his funeral, accompanied by her small children.
She turned to the crowd and addressed them.
“You are coming to the funeral of a hero in Israel who rescued soldiers from a burning tank. Keep your head up high. We are not in exile, we fight and we will win.”
This heroine in Israel is a bonfire of light. Her courage and strength will add to all the other lights that will help illuminate our path forward.
Chanuka may be coming to a close, but it’s reverberations continue to bring light into a dark world.
May that light overcome and prevail.
Dear hostages.
May you soon witness the light of day very soon.
We haven’t forgotten you.
We are praying for you.
And the Jewish nation is fighting hard to bring you out of the dark.
Chanuka lives.
Shabbat Shalom and so much love.