In December 2023, as Chanukah approached under the long shadow of Oct. 7, the holiday felt heavy.
It was layered with emotion, grief and care. Families in Israel were still waiting for loved ones, for news, for some sense that the world had not moved on without them. At the time, I was deeply involved in the Bring Them Home Now campaign, alongside a committed group of women in Austin who were actively supporting hostage families and carrying this work into our local community.
The stories, the waiting, the responsibility followed us everywhere.
Around that time, Lily Saad, a longtime pillar of the Jewish community in Texas, reached out. Lily has a rare ability to connect people who are holding different pieces of the same question, and she sensed that something needed to come together. Through her, I connected with Hillary Lande, a young American Jewish mother who was searching for a way to mark Chanukah that felt honest in the face of so much pain.
It was Hillary who asked the question that changed everything. What if, for one night of the holiday, children didn’t receive gelt, but gave it instead?
That question stayed with us.
We chose the final night of the holiday, the eighth candle. The moment when the holiday is technically ending, yet the light remains at its strongest. For us, it was a way of saying that care does not disappear when the candles burn low, and that those most affected by Oct. 7 would not be forgotten once the holiday ended.
We called the initiative “Share the Light.”
That first year, our focus was immediate and human. Children from southern Israeli towns and kibbutzim had been displaced by the Oct. 7 attacks, living in hotels, motels and temporary housing. Many had fled with nothing. Chanukah arrived without home, without routine, without the quiet stability that allows childhood to feel safe.
Through “Share the Light,” these children received modest gift cards. Not as symbols but as choices.
I remember hearing about a boy who used his card to buy soccer shoes. He had escaped barefoot, leaving behind the field where he spent his afternoons. The shoes did not undo what he had experienced, but they allowed him to step back into a life he recognized. To move, to play, to belong again, even briefly.
The response to that first year was deeply felt. What began as a one-night act became a tradition.
For Chanukah 2024, “Share the Light” turned its attention to the orphans of Oct. 7, children whose parents were murdered in their homes. Partnering with organizations on the ground in Israel, we supported families who took these children in, helping with school needs, early-childhood care and the daily work of rebuilding stability.
As for this year’s holiday, the meaning of the eighth candle continues to evolve.
The war has ended. Hostages have returned. Some families are beginning the long process of healing, while others carry losses that will never fully resolve. Those who emerged from captivity are living reminders of how fragile life is and how persistent it can be.
This year, “Share the Light” is honoring children entering their bar and bat mitzvah year whose lives were shaped by Oct. 7. Teens from families of hostages. Teens who waited. Teens who lost. Some who were even taken themselves.
To support them, we are partnering with the La’Aretz Foundation, which has provided direct assistance to more than 1,000 Israeli families since Oct. 7. Their rapid, dignified and low-bureaucracy approach makes them a natural partner in this work, ensuring that support reaches families swiftly and personally.
Since Oct. 7, Jews in the Diaspora and Israelis across the globe have shown up for these children and their families. “Share the Light” grows out of that responsibility. It reflects a partnership between communities, between families here and families in Israel, between children giving and children rebuilding.
On the final night of Chanukah, when the menorah is fully lit, the light is at its peak. It is a symbol of hope, growth and the belief that even after devastation, a future can still be shaped with care.
