Last Sunday, one week before the start of Hanukkah, my 10-year-old and I were driving back from his performance of Finding Nemo Jr. when he asked,
“What are those Hanukkah doughnuts called again?”
“Sufganiyot,” I said. Sufganiyot, if you haven’t partaken, are jelly-filled, powdered sugar-topped doughnuts that I’m guessing people eat all year round, but my family eats only at Hanukkah. Also, full disclosure, I fill my sufganiyot with Nutella instead of jelly because my kids like it better, meaning they probably aren’t even actually sufganiyot – but we live in a state with very few Jews and I’m married to a Catholic guy so my boys don’t know the difference.
“Yeah, sufganiyot,” he said. “Can we make them?”
“Sure,” I said. “We’ll make them during Hanukkah.”
On Thursday, three days before the start of Hanukkah, my 10-year-old and I were driving to his performance of Finding Nemo Jr. when he asked,
“Can we make sufganiyot?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Can we make them tomorrow?” He said.
“No, not tomorrow,” I said. “We’ll make them during Hanukkah.”
On Sunday, which was both the first night of Hanukkah and the last day of Ten’s show, I sat on the couch in my bathrobe sipping my coffee. Ten sat down next to me and asked,
“Can we make sufganiyot?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Great,” he said. “Because I want to take them today.”
“Take them to where?” I asked.
“To the show,” he said. “To the cast party.”
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” I said. “No.”
Ten was instantly heartbroken.
“Babes, I’m sorry,” I said. “You have to be at the theatre in two hours and I can’t make 40 sufganiyot in that time. Also, I don’t think your stage manager would be happy if I brought pounds of powdered sugar to that nice, clean dressing room. And also-also, there aren’t any nuts allowed and jelly is really messy.”
Ten was still very much heartbroken. But then,
“What about dreidel?” He asked. “Can I bring dreidel?”
“Oh,” I said, realizing that he wanted to share Hanukkah, not treats, with everyone. “I don’t know.”
Dreidel is played with a little four-sided top with a Hebrew letter written on each of the sides. All of the players are given candy of some kind – usually chocolate coins. A player spins the dreidel, and whatever side it lands on tells them what to do. If it lands on the shin, for example, you put one of your candies in. If it lands on the gimel, you get everything in the pot. It’s fun for about five spins because spinning a top isn’t that magical and at some point you realize you could just eat your portion of candy skip the rest of the nonsense.
Dreidel is a game we play at Hanukkah, but it’s not religious – and it’s only tangentially connected to Hanukkah (its origin story places it during the Greek-Syrian occupation). It’s just a game. A not-particularly-fun game.
A million years ago, my mom would go into the elementary schools and talk about Hanukkah and teach everyone how to play dreidel. She called in “Jew on the Move” and her props included a menorah, a gallon-sized bag of dreidels, and enough Hershey’s Kisses for everyone to have three for playing dreidel. Afterwards, my class would make cornflake Christmas wreath ornaments and color pictures of Santa and sing Christmas carols. It was always a great time.
However, that was a million years ago, and cornflake Christmas wreaths and Jews on the Move in public schools are L-O-N-G gone.
“My director said it’s okay,” Ten said. “She said it was okay if I brought in doughnuts for Hanukkah.”
“Bringing in doughnuts and bringing in dreidel are two different things,” I said. I glanced at the clock; it didn’t feel like there was enough time to email the show grownups and ask for permission.
“Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaassssssseeee,” Ten said.
I looked at Kyle.
“It’s pretty innocuous,” Kyle said.
“Okay, you can bring dreidel,” I told Ten. “But don’t bring God or Hanukkah into it. Only dreidel. Ask the grownups first, and if they say no, then put the dreidels away and share the candy as a treat.”
“Deal,” Ten said, running off.
Two hours later, we delivered Ten, a bag of dreidels, and enough Hershey’s Kisses for everyone to have at least three each to the theatre. I sat in the alleyway for a few minutes and did a little prayer that I hadn’t just created a problem.
After the show and the cast party, I asked Ten how it went.
“Oh, it went GREAT,” he said. “I played dreidel with everybody, and then they played dreidel with each other. They really liked it.”
“Good deal,” I said, relieved. “Did you give out all of the Kisses?” I asked.
“Yes,” Ten said.
“All but one,” I said, kissing Ten on the cheek.
If you watched my segment on North Dakota Today this week, you know that I am holding a fundraiser for the Fire Hall Theatre in Grand Forks. The Greater Grand Forks Community Theatre has been absolutely amazing for my ten-year-old (click here for my Herald article, and click here and here for two of my other stories), and I’d love to help them ensure they can continue their programming for years to come.
Through January 2, 2026, if you make a donation of any amount to the Fire Hall Theatre, Kyle and I will write you a “Roses are Red” poem on the topic of your choosing. Here’s how you do it:
- Make a donation by clicking here.
- Let me know you made the donation through the contact page on this website or by messaging me on social media. Also include your poem topic choice and whether you’d prefer the poem hand-written or in a font (both options will be sent digitally).
- Bask in the glow of supporting the arts.
Thank you in advance!
This week on North Dakota Today, we talked about Jessica Salinas and Love in Action, my Nice Person of the Week, as well Marty the Elf and his partner, Deputy Steve Austin, my Nice Elf of the Week. (Valley News Live)
Here’s the first paragraph of last week’s Grand Forks Herald column: “It’s the most wonderful time of the year for my 10-year-old; December means curtains up on the Greater Grand Forks Community Theatre’s Children’s Musical. This season Ten and his fellow castmates are putting on a performance of “Finding Nemo Jr.” I don’t think I’m being biased in saying that it’s probably the cutest and bestest iteration of this particular show and/or any marine-based stage play ever performed.” (Grand Forks Herald)
A group of snowmobile enthusiasts restored a rare John Deere Liquidator with the purpose of auctioning it off in support of the Snowmobile Hall of Fame. (Valley News Live)
Cold hands +warm hearts = 9,700 wreaths laid. (KFYR TV)
Friends of Randy Fyllesvold came together to combine his 1,400 acres after his passing. (NY Post)
Dickinson’s Aspen Roadarmel earned a perfect score in the vault and uneven bars at the Dickinson Invite. (Dickinson Press)
The Ward County Library is the home to a Creative Clique. (KFYR TV, found via Oops Only Good News)
Wahpeton’s third annual Suicide Awareness event drew over 100 people and $6,000. (Wahpeton Daily News, found via Oops Only Good News)
Speaking of Wahpeton, Wahpeton High cheerleader Cadence Hill was one of 900 cheerleaders across the country at the National Pearl Harbor Memorial Parade. (Wahpeton Daily News)
North Dakota Nice 
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