How I Saved Hanukkah Read Online Free PDF

Lucy said she did, and Ned was wildly excited.
    They acted stupid on the way there. They thought they were so funny, walking like elephants, then apes, and making animal noises. What if someone saw us? I started walking faster and Lucy told me that I was being an old poop. Ned thought that was hilarious.
    I walked even faster and got to the library first. I was inside, looking at some books, when I saw them SWIM through the door like fish.
    I couldn’t believe I’d thought of that girl as my best friend! It made me totally ill to think I’d be stuckwith her twenty-four hours a day for three more days.
    I hid from them behind the stacks. Then I sneaked up to Ms. Mindy’s desk.
    “Do you have any books on Hanukkah?” I asked in a whisper.
    “Oh, yes,” she whispered back.
    She led me around to a shelf. “Well, here’s one, sort of,” she said. “At least there must be something about Hanukkah in here . . . .” It was a short book on Jewish holidays. “Teachers check them out this time of year,” Ms. Mindy apologized.
    “Well, how about music?” I asked. “Jewish music, like for horas?”
    Ms. Mindy brightened up. “We do have that!”
    I checked out the cassette and the book and slipped out of the library without Lucy or Ned spotting me.
    I was in my room, listening to the tape on my Walkman and trying to guess how to do the hora, when my mom came in.
    “Where’s Ned?” she asked, instantly worried about her precious baby.
    “Who knows and who cares,” I said.
    “I do, so tell,” she said. “Now.”
    “He’s at the library. With Lucy,” I said. “All right?”
    “Not all right,” she said. “You march right back to that library this instant, Miss Marla, and get your brother—”
    But just then we heard the front door open and Ned and Lucy came in. My mom shot me a look, then turned and walked out of my room. She forgot to close the door behind her, so I did—SLAM.
    Even I know the hora is a circle dance and not something you do alone, so I turned off the music and read a little. I wrote in my diary about Lucy being such a traitor. I polished my nails, and looked in the mirror for pimples. Then I was bored. Then I was really bored. Then really, really bored.
    I heard my mom tell Ned to get in the car to go to the market with her.
    He said, “No.”
    She said, “Yes.”
    He said, “No.”
    She said, “I’ll buy you a cookie.”
    I heard the car pull out of the driveway, and then I heard nothing at all.
    There was a lot of silence. I wondered if Lucy had gone to the store too. I opened my door a sliver to hearbetter and there was Lucy, fist raised, about to knock. We both jumped back, surprised. I don’t know which of us laughed first. Me or my best friend.
    *    *    *
    When we went into the kitchen at dinnertime, my mom said she’d been cleaning the grease from the stove for hours, so we could forget a latke encore. “Anyway, the leftover potato stuff turned creepy-looking in the fridge,” she said.
    We made tuna sandwiches, lit the candles, and sang our song. Then I told everyone I had a surprise.
    “Menorah music!” Ned said.
    “Hora music,” Lucy corrected him. “Ms. Mindy told us.”
    “She tattled?” I asked. “Ms. Mindy?”
    “Well, I guess I went up to her right after you did,” Lucy said, “and we both asked for books on Hanukkah, and she knows we’re best friends . . . .”
    I decided not to be mad.
    “Hora music, eh?” my mom muttered, shaking her head.
    We all looked at her. She shrugged and said, “If we must, we must.”
    As we trooped into the living room, my mom said, “I’m going to have to dig pretty deep to remember this. I probably haven’t danced the hora since Uncle Larry’s wedding, so bear with me.”

    We put on the tape and took hands, and it seemed like my mom remembered instantly. Her feet turned this way then that and gave a little jump and a kick. And she dragged us stumbling around and around in our circle of