Sukkot

Sukkot – A Time of Family

The joy of sitting together in a decorated sukkah with the immediate family,
and also visiting and hosting the extended family.

Each year, the memory of the Sukkot holiday I experienced in my childhood returns to me, in the most fascinating place of all — at my grandparents’ home (“Zeide and Bubbe,” as we lovingly called them) in the Meah Shearim neighborhood of Jerusalem.
It is the true and authentic place where memories begin, already from the eve of the holiday.

As the eldest granddaughter, I often came to their home, spent time by their side, and helped them on holiday evenings.
In this way, I absorbed a Jewish way of life unlike any other.

Fathers and sons were enthusiastically busy building enormous sukkahs that filled every courtyard and corner, creating something like winding pathways between them. They were decorated with magnificent handmade creations, crafted by talented young men through woodworking and electrical work.

As a young child, I was captivated by the lights that illuminated the wooden creations they had painstakingly carved — such as the zodiac signs and the Ushpizin — amazed at how young men who had never formally studied a craft could create such perfect works.

I experienced the constant activity and effort that filled the air: the hammering to strengthen the sukkah boards, the dragging of palm branches for the roofing, a blend of delicious aromas drifting through the space…
an electrifying atmosphere on the eve of Sukkot.

Over the years, when my younger brother would join my father in buying the Four Species, I felt that I was missing out on an experience.

They would spend hours together and return with sealed boxes, happy and proud smiles, and fascinating stories from the market.

And when I grew older, on my way to my grandparents’ home — Bubbe and Zeide — I too was fortunate to catch a glimpse of the vibrant Four Species market in Meah Shearim.

An abundance of makeshift stalls laden with lulavs, myrtle branches, and etrogs.

Distinguished men, magnifying glass in hand, carefully striving to choose the most exquisite one — consulting, discussing…
Children selling koyshiklakh they braided with their own hands, the joyful bustle of a holiday eve.

Scenes absorbed into me in childhood later emerged through my paintbrushes in adulthood.

One of my roles was to hang the decorations in Zeide and Bubbe’s sukkah.

Every few years, I would renew their decorations with colorful flowers made of layers of shiny paper, folded and cut with small tabs, threaded together.
Such a popular decoration — one that never went out of style!

One year, I made them a giant flower from an entire sheet of paper! It was made of eighteen layers of colorful, shiny paper in varied hues, combined with gold and silver papers. The creation was very impressive.

It was hung with great ceremony and festivity in the center of the sukkah, and I waited eagerly for the uplifting feedback from family members who were expected to visit during the holiday.

Already on the first day of the holiday, heavy rains fell. My heart fluttered as my thoughts wandered to their sukkah.

How sad it was to hear, at the end of the holiday, that my new creation had become completely soaked. The colors blended into one another, and the colorful drops of water stained the white, freshly ironed sheet covering the sukkah boards in a burst of colors. From the perfect flower, only a few wrinkled inner layers remained.

And another memory:

My grandparents had in their sukkah a “Sukkaleh,” which was the main attraction of both hosting and conversation. What is a “Sukkaleh”? Can you guess?

My grandfather built a small sukkah, about 25 × 40 cm, made of wood — an exact miniature replica of their large sukkah.

It was identical in the number of its walls and in its deep green color. The windows of the “Sukkaleh” were placed exactly where the windows of their sukkah were, including the curtains. The roofing was made of thin palm branches, identical to the roofing of the large sukkah.

The tiny, adorable decorations hanging on the walls were made by me.

A tiny lamp hung from the center of the roof, casting a yellow glow even in the dark.

At the center of the “Sukkaleh” stood a miniature table and chairs, a lace tablecloth spread over the table, a pair of candlesticks, a wine bottle, and a cup.

Each year, my grandmother baked very small challahs for the table — that was her contribution.

My grandfather was very proud of the “Sukkaleh” he had built with his own hands. It rested on a shelf in the sukkah, and every guest was invited to take a look and enjoy my grandfather’s handiwork.

Every year during Sukkot, these pleasant memories rise to the surface, bringing feelings of delight, joy, and longing. Every family and its memories — each family has its own magic.

Would you like to share?

What pleasant memories and moving experiences will we give our children?
Our grandchildren?