"Two Jews, from across the room..."

 Early in December of last year, the activity department at my job, which I am a member of, had their holiday party. These parties always take place at least a few weeks before Christmas, I believe in an attempt to be as inclusive as possible (many people are on vacation later in the month). I use the word inclusive in a bit of a tongue-in-cheek way, because these holiday parties are really, as far as I am concerned, Christmas parties, featuring music and decorations pertaining only to that holiday. 

   The distinction between party types is not just a matter of semantics for me, but is important because I often feel like an ethnic afterthought in other people's minds, being the only Jew in the department, as well as possessing a predisposition to feeling invisible, with me since childhood. I know that I am neither physically nor psychically invisible to most people that I know, but it does feel that way more than I  wish it did. 

   So, there I was at this party, feeling uncomfortable, when it was announced that we'd play a raffle game with the tickets we'd been given when we arrived. As the first numbers were called, I realized that I held the winning ticket, and as I went up to claim my prize, I was guided by one of the well-meaning supervisors towards a particular package. I presumed this package held the "Mensch on a Bench" toy that I had been informed might be one of the prizes by this same supervisor earlier in the week.

   I returned to my seat and opened the gift, and felt immediately happy at the stuffed toy inside. The people clapped, and I honestly felt like I suddenly belonged among this group of familiar people listening to Christmas music. Although it was only a toy, and a kind of joke gift at that, to me it was as if someone that I knew and really related to had come to give me support amidst a room of indifferent strangers. I know that seems odd, but I felt as if my circumstances and emotional life at the time had been completely transformed.

   I placed the "Mensch on a Bench" on the table I was sitting behind so it was facing me, and I looked at it. With it's left arm raised as if waving, it seemed like we were destined to be near each other at that moment.

   My feelings of isolation in that peopled room fell away as I looked at that mensch, like the box I pulled him from had opened the one that had previously contained me.

The mensch, at my apartment, watching over the Chanukah candles.