Lighting the Path of Leadership: A Hanukkah Reflection
Hanukkah has always meant something different to me than it did to most kids I grew up with.
I was raised in Kalamazoo, Michigan, and in my elementary school, there were exactly two Jewish kids.
Me.
And my brother.
That was it.
Everyone else had Christmas trees. Everyone else had stockings. Everyone else talked about Santa and what they hoped he’d bring. And even though I grew up going to synagogue with plenty of Jewish friends, at school I often felt… other.
I remember asking my parents, “But what do I say when kids ask me what I’m doing for Christmas? We don’t celebrate Christmas.”
They didn’t miss a beat — they handed me a book.
A now-classic little treasure by Jerome Coopersmith called “A Hanukkah Fable for Christmas.”
And every year, reading it became our ritual.
It begins:
“’Twas the night before Christmas, and down on my block,
every window was glowing with five-and-ten-cent stock.
Every window but mine, which was natural and right.
They don’t make colored light bulbs for Hanukkah night.”
I won’t paste the entire poem here (though trust me, I was tempted), but the essence is this:
A young Jewish boy wishes — secretly — for something magical like Santa… not because he wants Christmas, but because he longs for a symbol of belonging.
A symbol of light.
A symbol of wonder.
And then — through a magical Hanukkah dreidel ride across the world — he discovers that everyone has a holiday where they light up the world in their own way. Some with bells. Some with candles. Some with dragons. Some with drums.
No two the same.
All meaningful.
And the boy finally sees that his light belongs too.
Why this story still matters to me
My point in sharing this isn’t that I felt lonely at Hanukkah (though sometimes I did).
It’s this: Hanukkah is a season that reminds us that every one of us has the power to light the way for someone else.
It reminds us that:
✨ Light multiplies when shared.
✨ Miracles happen when we act beyond what our circumstances predict.
✨ A single spark can ignite something far bigger than we can see.
And after the year we’ve all had — with burnout, rough transitions, layoffs, uncertainty, emotional load, and the heaviness so many leaders are carrying — I think we need a season like this.
What Hanukkah actually celebrates (and why it matters for leaders)
Historically, Hanukkah celebrates a miracle after the Maccabees reclaimed the Temple in Jerusalem. They found only one small jar of oil left — barely enough to burn for one day.
It burned for eight.
Against all odds.
Defying circumstances.
Illuminating the darkness longer than anyone believed possible.
In leadership terms?
A miracle is something that happens outside your current reality, something your circumstances cannot explain.
And yet — these “miracles” often begin with the smallest actions:
✨ Opening a door for someone who is struggling.
✨ Sending a text to a friend who’s been quiet.
✨ Taking a breath before reacting.
✨ Giving someone the benefit of the doubt.
✨ Offering warmth without knowing who really needs it.
I don’t know what miracle someone else needs.
You don’t either.
But maybe…
just maybe…
your one act of light is the thing that changes the trajectory of their day.
Or their week.
Or their life.
Traditions, Lights
One year, during a Rite Aid 70%-off fire sale (the best kind), I bought about 20 pairs of gloves, socks, and warm essentials. I kept them in my car.
And I gave them away.
Not in a grand gesture, but one at a time.
One moment at a time.
One spark at a time.
And every time I handed a pair to someone who needed it, it reminded me:
Light doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful.
Sometimes it’s as simple as saying:
I see you.
You matter.
Here’s a little warmth for the road.
Why I created the “Eight Candles of Leadership Giveaway”
This season, I wanted to offer you something that goes beyond a holiday promo or year-end email.
I wanted to give you eight small sparks — one each night of Hanukkah — to help you reconnect with yourself, your values, your courage, and your joy.
Because leadership isn’t just a skill.
It’s a series of moments where we choose to bring light.
Each candle comes with one small gift from my library:
🕯 Presence
🕯 Clarity
🕯 Boundaries
🕯 Voice
🕯 Self-Trust
🕯 Resilience
🕯 Joy
🕯 Legacy
And at the center — the Shamash candle, the helper candle — is where we place your 2026 Intent Letter.
Because it’s the light you’ll use to illuminate every day of the year ahead.
If you’d love to receive these eight gifts (and be entered into the giveaway), you can join right here:
My hope for you this Hanukkah
May you experience miracles this year — the kind your current reality cannot explain.
May you feel seen in the places you’ve felt invisible.
Held in the places you’ve been carrying too much.
And illuminated in the places you’ve been dimming yourself.
And may your leadership — your courage, your truth, your ridiculousness — be a light that someone else needed more than you know.
