Shabbat Candle Experiences & Stories

I have not lit the candles for the Shabbat or for the Jewish holidays since my pacemaker operation nine months ago. I was afraid of dropping the match and causing a fire—or so I told myself. But I am going to light the Shabbat candles tonight.

Everything had changed. What was holy and productive one minute, was negative and destructive the next. It is not just about the action, it is about the timing . . .

It all starts with the candles. The flames passed from generation to generation. Only now, looking back, can I appreciate the significance of a practice that connects us to the past, the present and the future . . .

She wanted to show Yona the impact she had made on her life, to tell her how her encouragement, kind words and warmth were coming to fruition 32 years later...

"The very last time zone is at the furthest point on earth, which is the Aleutian Islands. And the Aleutian Islands is the very last place in the world every Friday to have the opportunity to light Shabbat candles! You and your mother have this opportunity-to usher in the light of Shabbat for the entire Aleutian Islands."

So why was I there? How did I fit into this picture, and what was I going to do to ensure that I was making my contribution to our community and our nation?

In the silent moments of my candle-lighting, I imagine many Jewish women around the globe also lighting their candles. I feel we are unified for one small moment in our week. We may not speak the same language, and we may live at opposite ends of the globe, but we, each of us, are connected by this seemingly small act that we do on Friday nights. Each small act performed together makes a pretty big whole . . .

I attended Catholic school, and I was instructed by my parents not to believe anything they taught me but to follow along. To say the least, I was a spiritually confused child...

Time was running out, but I thought I would give it another go. "Please, Sharon, you will feel better by adding some more light to your world..." Unfortunately, none of the arguments won her over...

A woman living on Ocean Avenue in Brooklyn wrote to the Rebbe to ask for Shabbat candlesticks. The letter arrived on Friday. On Friday afternoon, he asked his secretary to see to it that this woman had the opportunity to light Shabbat candles that very Friday afternoon.

Pamela lit the Menorah for the first time that Hannukah, a little Menorah that Mrs. Shaffer brought us. And then she continued lighting her candle for the Sabbath every Friday. Without fail, ever . . .

On Shabbat morning I would sit beside my grandmother in synagogue, and the exhaustion of the week would melt as we prayed. But as soon as Shabbat ended I would go back to my struggle to create a picture perfect life instead of a real one...

Six days a week I have an incredibly hectic schedule. There are so many things going on that six days of my week can pass and I won't even notice how much my children have grown. I won't have time to talk to my husband, not about my work or the grocery shopping, but about us, life, our dreams, our goals...

Every Friday she made two little candles from the margarine she saved and did not eat, and took some threads from the bottom of her dress and lit them . . .