My father came to America just before he turned 16. His life in South Africa was filled with corruption and anti-semitism. Although he lived a very suitable life in Durban, it did not excuse the fact that he was hit and spit at every day because he was Jewish. But when this happened to him, he thought of what his great grandparents had gone through to get him there. When Jews left Lithuania, they left with a small bag filled with few clothes, and their candlesticks. His granny Razelle was given the Menorah from her parents. They left Lithuania to start a new life where they wanted to succeed. My great-great-grandparents also left with their menorah. This menorah has been passed from generation to generation and very soon it will be in my hands. Since the first Hanukkah I can remember, we have brought down the silver menorah and my dad told us a story about Razzelle. Every time my dad talks about her, his eyes light up. She was the first woman in South Africa to have a chapter of women’s international Zionist organization named after her. She was an activist for women’s causes and most importantly she was beloved by everyone that knew her. She passed that onto my dad who is known for having a kind heart. This menorah is not just an object. It represents the love, passion, and obstacles my family has gone through in order to get me where I am today.

– Eden Monk

Relationship:  Child of im/migrant Child of im/migrant